Chapter Twenty-Two
Kayden
I watch her get out of the car, and all I want is to flip the damn thing with that smug bastard inside and set it on fire. Watch him scream while it burns.
"Don't," Asher says without looking at me.
He knows me too well.
But fuck, it's hard to hold still when she walks up like nothing happened. She looks fine, calm, composed, like she didn't just rip our trust to shreds.
I lean against the porch railing, jaw clenched. Asher's at the door, arms crossed, pretending to be a statue, but I know better. He's just as wrecked inside. We both are. We've been played.
The car rolls away. I don't take my eyes off until it disappears from view.
When Sage reaches us, Asher speaks first, voice measured and controlled. "Are you all right, Sage?"
She nods. "Yes. I'm fine."
She steps inside and tosses over her shoulder, "Lay it on me. I know you've got some things to get off your chests."
"You don't say." I slam the door. The patch on the arrow hole rattles. "Unless you were kidnapped or having a psychotic break, you've got a whole lot of explaining to do, sunshine."
She runs a hand through her hair, already exasperated. "Not kidnapped. Not crazy. I had to talk to him, and I did. That's all."
I move toward her on instinct, but Asher steps in, holding out a hand. Always the damn mediator.
"You had to?" he asks, voice low but lethal. "So it's true. You planned this… meeting?"
"At the event, Darius promised a truce if I spoke with him. I took the chance. And now we have that truce. It's secure. We can move freely again. No more attacks." She tries to sound steady, diplomatic, but her voice wavers, and it only pisses me off more.
"Oh, how sweet." I laugh bitterly. "Wining and dining with your ex-fiancé while we're tearing our hair out wondering whether we'll find your body in a ditch. Not that I can grow gray hairs, but fuck, you're trying your best to push me there, wife." I spit the word like a curse.
Asher's calmer, but colder. "You didn't tell us."
Her voice is small. "I knew you wouldn't let me."
"You're damn right we wouldn't," I growl, stepping past Asher. "He could've done anything. You walked right into his hands."
"But he didn't," she fires back, eyes tired, voice fraying. "He kept his word."
"Oh, fantastic. Let's throw him a parade. Invite him over for afternoon tea and a pity fuck since he's apparently so trustworthy," I snap.
Her head jerks up, green eyes blazing. "Stop it, Kayden. I did this for all of us."
"No," Asher cuts in, quiet and sharp. "You did this without us. That's not the same."
She sags, as the guilt catches up to her.
"And what about you?" she asks, turning to Asher. "You watched the bar behind my back. Didn't tell me either."
Asher's jaw flexes. I speak first. "Different levels of betrayal, sweetheart," I mutter, stalking toward the cabinet. "Yours involved sitting alone with the guy who marked you like property."
I grab a bottle and a shot glass as my mind spirals into chaos—rage, hurt, and that soul-deep ache that only betrayal can evoke.
Fuck, why do I have to love her this much?
I down one shot. Then another. It barely burns.
She asks carefully, like she's stepping through a minefield, "Are you two okay? What happened?"
Asher's arms cross like steel. "You know something happened?"
She nods, hesitant. "He promised not to harm you."
I bark out a laugh. "What a gentleman. Maybe you should go back to him then," I say, venom laced in every word.
Her eyes widen like I slapped her. Maybe I did. Not with hands. With something worse. She looks away, lips pressed together like she's swallowing a scream.
I pour another glass. My palms brace the counter. Fuck, I'm a mess. But when I'm hurt, I lash out. That's what I do. I bleed and bite.
And no, I'm not apologizing.
Asher takes over, voice even but cold. "We were lured by illusions. We thought we saw you in the woods. We followed. Got separated. Time slipped."
She nods without lifting her gaze. "That's faun magic. In the forest, you're inside a life-bound domain. Their powers are strongest there."
"Faun?" Asher asks, brow raised. "You mean the young guy? The one who brought the invitations?"
She nods. "Johnny. Fauns are like… less powerful satyrs, but stronger than nymphs when it comes to illusions and nature-based magic."
Oh, I remember him. That smug, pretty-faced bastard.
I've imagined gutting him slowly and watching the life drain from those eyes more times than I care to admit.
"Lovely," I mutter, pouring again. "Just lovely to know we're the playthings of your nature-hugging psycho coven. Tell me, Sage, whose side are you on these days? Because I'm starting to lose track. Do you know?"
She exhales, rubbing the back of her neck like she's caught between guilt and a migraine. "I don't want anyone to get hurt. I was trying to find a bloodless way out. If they wanted to hurt us, they could've. They're a team."
"Exactly," Asher cuts in, his tone like a slap. "They're a team. One that doesn't go behind each other's backs."
He stares at her. Then: "Why didn't you write? Call? Let us know anything?"
She rubs her temples, guilt seeping into her voice. "He took me to a restaurant. Private place. Heavy curtains. I couldn't see outside. Some kind of Faraday setup—no signal got through. I didn't notice how much time had passed."
I laugh again. It's dry and broken.
"Charming. Really. A manipulative bastard with ambiance. Maybe he even picked the wine for you. Wait, I'm sure he did. And it was the most expensive one on the list."
She snaps to me again, voice rising. "I know he's a manipulative bastard. I told him that to his face. But he kept his promise. I'm standing here, not bleeding, not broken. And so are you."
"What did he tell you?" Asher asks, tone cool but probing. "Since you had such a long, illuminating conversation."
She drops onto the couch like the weight of everything finally settles on her. "He explained some of what I didn't understand. Things I never got answers to when I left. Missing pieces."
I scoff. "Let me guess—he spun a pretty little tale where he's Prince Charming, and we're the evil stepbrothers keeping you locked in a tower."
Asher cuts through my ramble, "Did he tell you whether he used influence on you?"
The room freezes. She hesitates just enough to sting.
Then, quietly, she says, "Only once. To calm me when I first came there. I was… not well."
Asher shuts his eyes. I tighten my grip on the glass until I think it might shatter in my hand.
Then Asher drops the question I don't dare to ask. "Do you regret running from him?"
Her answer comes too fast. "No. No, I don't. There were… misunderstandings. Things I didn't know. But no, I don't regret it."
I stare at her for a long time, and I honestly don't know what I see. Is she lying? Or is she not sure herself?
I salute her with a mock toast. "Thank you for this beautiful little gift you've wrapped for us, sunshine."
I toss back the last of my drink and set the glass down hard.
"I need some time to unwrap it," I mutter, and turn on my heel, heading for the door before either of them can stop me.
Because there's only one thing that can quiet the ache in my chest right now—someone needs to bleed.