Total pages in book: 102
Estimated words: 100493 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 502(@200wpm)___ 402(@250wpm)___ 335(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 100493 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 502(@200wpm)___ 402(@250wpm)___ 335(@300wpm)
Leon drags his hands down his jeans, leaving scarlet streaks across black denim. “Then you need to call Emeric. Before he finds out through other channels, because if this was an ordered hit, he’d know.”
Footsteps hit the porch.
Asher fills the doorway, rain darkening his hair. Scanning the room, those pale blue eyes find Nonna first before they lock on me.
His face changes, the last scrap of ease going cold, and I swear the air in the room turns thin.
“Gone.” His jaw sets on the word. “Whoever it was is gone.”
Dropping into a crouch beside me, glass crunches under his boot.
His hand closes around the back of my neck, locking me in place. “We’ll find them.”
That’s a promise in the only language I understand. Violence.
Water pounds my shoulders, shifting from pink to red to clear as I scrub Nonna’s blood from my skin. With every pass of my hands I shudder, the world tilting as her final words cycle on repeat.
“Le Boucher will take care of you Ivy. He always has, he’s the only one you can trus—“
It’s nothing new. I know he takes care of me, I know he’s built these systems for our own good. The rest of the family don’t get it. Can’t see past the monster to find the man.
My forehead hits the tile as water continues pelt against my shoulders.
I should call him. I need to.
The bathroom door opens. I don’t need to look to know who owns those footsteps. They’ve always been weighted and deliberate. Back then I chalked it up to athleticism.
Now I’m wondering if I had it wrong from the start.
“Venom…” His hand flattens against the shower glass.
I don’t answer.
The door slides open, and he stands there a beat, jaw locked so hard the muscle jumps. His eyes drag over me, stopping on my face, and whatever anger he’s been carrying cracks open.
His hand flexes against the glass.
Whatever internal battle he’s fighting flashes over his face before he gives in with a deep exhale and steps under the water fully dressed, shrinking the space around us.
Two fingers slip beneath my chin, tipping my face toward him. Water runs from his dark lashes, tracing the hard line of his cheek.
I jerk free. “I’m fine.”
His face softens. “You’re bleeding.”
I look down, finding my knuckles torn open against the tile. When did that happen? I can’t remember. Blood stains the water around my feet, and my knees give way.
Asher catches me before I drop, fingers digging into my ribs as he hauls me up.
I want to fight him off. Want to claw at his chest for being here, for watching me break apart.
Arms slide under my thighs as he scoops me up, and we’re out of the shower before I can process, his foot kicking the faucet off on the way.
He sets me on the bed like I’m fragile, and I almost laugh because these hands he’s so worried about have ended more people than he can count.
“Tell me…” His knuckle drags slow along my jaw. “What did she say?”
Find the lawless butcher that terrifies most people but took care of us.
My throat closes around the truth. “She said goodbye.”
Asher slowly blinks. He knows I’m lying but can’t call me on it.
I should look away, maintain the make-believe boundary we both pretend exists, but then I remember what it felt like to not have him. His absence isn’t something I can handle right now, despite whatever hatred he has toward me.
Moving to his luggage, he grabs one of his shirts. “Arms.”
I obey without thinking as he tugs it over my head like I’m five years old, before pulling back the covers.
His brow lifts. “In.”
I push up onto my elbows. “I’m not—“
He glares. “Get in the fucking bed, Ivy.”
I slide between the sheets, curling into myself, knees drawn tight.
Don’t cry. Don’t you dare.
Asher climbs in and hauls me back against his chest. His arm locks across my ribs before I can even think to protest.
“What happens now?” His mouth moves against the back of my neck. “With Nonna.”
I sniffle, the fight draining out of my body. “There’s protocol.”
“Protocol.” His tone goes flat. I know it’s because he’s trying to make sense of my choice of words.
“Yeah.” I stare into the dark. “And it’s absolute.” Pause. “Even if we don’t want to...”
He doesn’t move, but his thumb circles my arm. “Wanna explain?”
My spine goes rigid. “I can’t.”
Not won’t. Can’t. The Codex doesn’t allow it. Emeric’s rules, and they’re carved into my back. Literally.
His arm tightens around me. “Ivy—”
“Please.” My throat works around it. “Just... not tonight.”
He’s quiet for a long moment. Then his grip tightens, pulling me closer. “Okay.”
I wait for more questions, more demands. They don’t come. Just his steady breathing, his heartbeat against my spine, the weight of his arm holding me while everything else falls apart.