Chapter Twenty-Seven
Hope Is a Dangerous Thing
IMOGEN GALLAGHER
The boundary of the white stones is just a footstep away, but it feels like a chasm stretching out before me. Beyond it, the world vibrates with a subtle hum, the air inside the circle almost tangible, saturated with a powerful energy that calls to the wolf inside me.
I hesitate on the edge, my white flats scuffing the dusty ground.
The two O’Connor enforcers approach, the ones Aiden handed me off to. They want me to cross into the coven. They’ve already opened the gateway.
Eleanor waves them off and walks closer, taking up space at my side. “We need to go in.”
With a deep breath, I press my foot forward, my heart pounding in sync with the thrumming energy. The gateway slides across my skin and the world inside shifts and takes on more vibrant colors.
Straight ahead, Rachel stands in the center of the dirt road, her expression sad, and the dam inside me breaks. My heart shatters. How can I exist without him?
I sink to my knees. I dig my fingers into the dirt and let the pain out in a mournful scream.
“Gen!” She runs toward me.
“There was an explosion. He...he’s gone, Rachel. He’s—”
She dives to the ground next to me and pulls me against her in a tight hug. “No, Gen.” Rachel’s voice is firm. “Liam isn’t dead.”
The silence that follows seems to stretch into eternity.
The breeze picks up, rustling through the branches above and stirring up a soft symphony of nature’s whispers. The scent of pine and damp earth fills the air, mingling with the faint, comforting thickness of magick.
“How...how can you be sure?” A pitiful thread of hope finds its way into my words. “My father said—”
“He doesn’t have Liam,” Rachel interrupts again, her tone unwavering and still so sure. “Bast and Jackson found out. They got Liam out of the SUV. He’s alive, Gen. Jackson texted me.”
The world tilts around me again.
Rachel’s strong grip is the only thing keeping me from curling up in the dirt. Relief floods through me, leaving me weak and shaky, but a new fear blossoms in the pit of my stomach.
“He’s here?” I don’t want to let myself hope.
She shakes her head. “Bast and Jackson are on their way with him.”
I turn back toward the small circle of stones—the entrance and exit from the magickal space the coven calls home.
“He’s alive. He’s coming here.” I look back at my best friend and wipe the tears from my cheeks.
She nods. “We didn’t have time to get you out of the wedding. Aiden made the choice to keep it going as long as possible so your father wouldn’t know we were onto him taking Liam.”
Rachel’s words swirl around me, coalescing into a new and complex reality. They knew. They saved him. She urges me to my feet, her hands warm on my bare arms.
I sway for a moment, unsteady, my legs acting boneless. “He’s alive,” I repeat, my voice trembling with emotions I can’t even begin to untangle.
Rachel repeats it again, firm and unwavering, “He’s alive.” Her certainty is a balm to my raw nerves.
My wolf surges forward, her strength flooding my veins and reinforcing my unsteady legs. I draw myself up next to Rachel, clutching her hand like a lifeline as we gaze together at the circle, the gateway. Time turns sluggish, moments melt into minutes, and minutes stretch into hours.
“He’ll be here soon. They all will,” Rachel assures me, giving my hand another squeeze, but it’s not enough to ease the gnawing dread coiling in my stomach.
A sudden ripple of air, a shimmering flutter around the stone ring, yanks my attention back. Bast emerges from the gateway, his face grimy and expression cold. His clothes are stained with smears of blood, and he’s carrying Jackson cradled in his arms like a child.
My breath halts, catching in my throat as I strain my eyes, scanning the void behind them for a glimpse of Liam.
But there’s no one.
Then another shimmer, another figure. Aiden materializes and I hear Eleanor’s deep sigh of relief behind me. Her son is safe.
I wait again. Each second stretching into an eternity. Liam...he has to be next. I let go of Rachel’s hand, every step toward the trio like walking barefoot on shattered glass.
“Liam?” I breathe out, willing him to materialize through the magick.
Bast’s sorrowful eyes meet mine like a physical blow and my hope evaporates. I barely hear his words over the rushing sound in my ears.
“Gen...your father’s enforcers got him back.” He looks from me to Rachel. “I need a place to put Jackson’s body.”
Jackson’s body? He’s dead. He’s carrying his dead brother...
A painful sob slips from Rachel’s lips. “Oh, Bast!”
But I can’t feel that right now. I can’t grieve for Jackson in this moment. In this moment...right now...all I feel is the crushing reality that my father has Liam. My legs buckle. I collapse to the ground and curl into myself. The screams are silent. I hear them in my head, but nothing is coming out of my mouth.
The texture of the dirt, the silkiness of my dress against my cheeks—they’re sensory anchors in a reality I can’t accept. The horrifying images of Liam in my father’s house assault my mind relentlessly.
“We’ll get him back, Gen.” Aiden’s confident voice cuts through the torment. His arms scoop me up, sharing his physical strength like an anchor in a stormy sea. “We’re going to get Liam back.”
His words are an offered lifeline. But I know my father. His ruthlessness. His vengeance. The true cost of defying him. My mind paints an image of the morbid spectacle he’s no doubt orchestrating right now—me watching Liam die.
But I can’t bring myself to crush Aiden’s hope. So I just nod, pressing my face deeper into the fabric of his shirt, allowing despair to wash over me once more.
Aiden carries me across the coven grounds and into one of the quaint stone cottages that dot the space. The inside is homey and soft. Floral wallpaper, a rustic wooden kitchen table, and soft throw rugs make the space inviting.
Lila’s voice ripples through the quiet space. “I’ll go fetch some fresh clothes for Gen.”
“Bring her here, Aiden. I need to get her out of this dress.” Alice gestures to him to follow her behind a room divider.
Aiden lets my feet drop to the ground in the bedroom, but I struggle to stand. I can’t think. I can’t see past the looping future vision in my mind of my father torturing and killing Liam.
“Hold her up.” I’m aware of Alice undoing the buttons and laces down my back. The weight of the dress falls away from my body, leaving me in nothing more than a corset and panties, vulnerable and laid bare, just like my soul.
The other men who brought me here, Aiden’s mother—their voices are distant. I can’t hear Bast. Rachel took him somewhere else.
Aiden shifts his weight, holding me gently under my arms like I’m a toddler testing standing for the first time.
The dirty dress at my feet disappears from view and Lila, Alice’s mother, appears next to me with a dark mug in her hand and an armful of clothes. She holds it to my lips and tips it forward. “Drink, love, it will help.”
The smell is bitter, and the taste is worse, but I swallow it all. I don’t feel anything. Certainly no help.
Alice removes the rest of my clothes, but I still can’t feel anything past the pain inside my mind. I’m numb. Barely present.
“These should fit.” Lila hands Alice a pair of jeans and a fluffy pink sweater.
“Aiden, lift her off her feet a little.”
He lifts me and my toes don’t touch the ground for several seconds. The fabric is soft, the scent of flowers is soothing. I want to thank them, but I can’t find the words.
Then I hear Bast and Rachel talking. They’ve come back into the cabin, but I can’t see them.
“Move her to the bed. Give her a little while. Her mind isn’t with us right now.” It’s Alice again, I think.
Aiden carries me across the room, this time laying me gently on a soft mattress. He covers me with a blanket before backing away.
Aiden’s voice is low but clear from the other side of the cabin. He’s arguing with Bast and the other men. The door closes and the voices change to a dull roar in my ears.
“What did you give her to drink, Lila?”
“Something to help her see past the pain. She’s stuck in a loop right now. If you’re going to get that boy back from Oliver, you’re going to need her help. No one knows that tyrant or his house better than that young lady right there.”
My help. Lila’s words sink deeper, past the fear. My head clears just a little.
Liam needs our help. My wolf pushes against the images freezing me inside my mind.
Our mate needs us.
Get.
Up.
He’s not dead.
We haven’t lost him yet.
Fight.
I sit up in the bed and look straight at Aiden, who’s standing next to Lila.
He meets my gaze and his body tenses. “Gen?”
“I know how to get into the house.”