The sooner we reached the caves, the sooner he could get the desperately needed help. And the sooner I could rid myself of this tormenting proximity to Reyna.
Her secrets tantalized me, just out of reach. She knew things—about Osman, Roman, and this tangled web we found ourselves in. What power did her silence hold? Why did she withhold her words as if they were precious gems locked away in a fortress?
“Reyna, how did you meet Osman?” I tried again, probing for any sliver of connection, any hint of her thoughts. But she was like a statue behind me, her presence both comforting and maddening. Her lips parted, a breath as if she might speak, but then sealed shut again, trapping whatever secrets lay within.
I sighed, resigning myself to the void between us.
“It’s alright. You don’t have to say anything. Osman will be so happy to see you. He’s missed you terribly,” I said, though the words tasted bitter on my tongue.
That bastard.
Osman, the unworthy recipient of her affections. How could she choose him when someone likeme—someone who truly understood the allure of danger and passion—was beside her?
All I could do was ride on, the silence an unyielding barrier, and my desires a silent storm raging within.
The cave loomed before us, its gaping maw swallowing the last rays of twilight. As we drew near, figures emerged from the shadows, their faces alight with hope and relief. Roman sprinted toward us.
“By God’s grace! You found them both,” he said, rushing to his brother’s side. “Thank the heavens.”
Properly in his composure, Osman approached with a restraint that belied his excitement. His eyes found Reyna, and with a grace that mocked me, he reached up to help her down from the horse. But when she winced at his touch, my heart clenched an echo of pain for her discomfort—and a surge of jealousy for the intimacy I craved but could not claim.
That should be my woman, not yours. The thought snarled within me, wild and untamed, a beast caged by duty and circumstance. In moments like this, the hollowness in my chest felt infinite. Love, I realized bitterly, was an illusion—a cruel mirage. My job and my duty were tangible and grounded in reality. But this ridiculous, tormenting thing called love? It would never find a home within me.
Roman crouched beside Marcellious, concern furrowing his brow.
“What have they done to you?” He looked at me. “He looks awful. We need to get him to the estate, and everyone will be relieved to see him alive.”
“Let’s move,” I said, voice edged with urgency, pushing aside the distraction of my longing.
“Reyna should ride with me,” Osman interjected, calm but firm. He glanced in my direction—an expression that might have been apologetic if I cared enough to dissect it.
Reyna climbed onto his horse without a word, and they settled together. The sight of her so close to him sent another surge of jealousy coursing through me, but I swallowed it down.
We set off into the dark, the rhythmic pounding of hooves on the earth the only sound to punctuate the silence, each of us racing toward an uncertain fate.
As stars pierced the veil of night, we arrived at Mathias’ doorstep. Roman didn’t bother with formalities; he threw open the front door and bellowed, “We need a doctor!”
Oliva, Alina, Emily, and Mathias poured from the house and gathered around Marcellious, their faces a tableau of shock and fear. But beneath the alarm on Alina and Mathias’ faces, something else lurked—something I recognized all too well. The faintest flicker, a glint in the eye, spoke of deceit. They played their parts admirably, the concerned family, yet I knew the truth of their hearts. They had cast Marcellious into danger with purposeful intent and carried resentment that he was alive.
My jaw tightened as I watched them, the weight of unsaid accusations heavy on my tongue. The night wrapped around us, a cloak of secrets and lies, as I watched a scene rife with betrayal.
Mathias’ voice was a barrage of urgency as he bore down on me with question after question. “What happened? How did you find him? Where was he?”
His eyes, dark and probing, sought the truth in mine.
I ignored him. Emily’s eyes shimmered with relief, her hands clasped over her mouth as if holding back sobs. Stoic and silent, Lee lifted Marcellious from the stretcher with Roman’s help. Osman left Reyna’s side to assist while Emily fluttered behind like a concerned bird. They moved grimly up the staircase.
Amid the swirling chaos of concern for Marcellious, Reyna—pale and wincing—seemed to fade into the background, forgotten even by her betrothed. Osman’s focus had become an echo of the household’s collective obsession with Marcellious’ condition. Only Olivia seemed to notice Reyna’s quiet suffering.
“Immediately draw her a bath,” she told a maid.
In stark contrast to the flurry of movement and voices, Mathias and Alina remained unnervingly composed. Their calmness was sharp, deliberate, and too perfect. It was a thin veneer of tranquility that only emphasized the treachery simmering beneath their polished exteriors.
“Malik, how did you find them?” Mathias pressed, his voice cutting through the din of the hallway.
“The night called for blood,” I said, my voice low and even. “I went to kill. I needed sustenance. But fate led me to them, broken and bruised on the forest floor, teetering at death’s edge.”
My hand instinctively moved toward Reyna, a silent gesture of protection, a shield against the scrutiny she didn’t deserve.
