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“Look at you,” Brodie spits. “You really are a monster.”

I imagine I must look hellish.Good, I think. He wanted a monster, and now he’s fucking got one.

I lean in closer, still holding his now-trembling wrist, keeping it suspended in place where it sits aimed straight for my stomach. I hear Key shouting my name again, but it’s lost to the rushing of blood thumping in my ears, the roar of the monster that wants to see this man bleed.

“Aye, I’m a monster,” I growl. My lips curve into a smirk, and I bend even farther, allowing the tip of his knife to touch my skin. “And I’ve got you right where I want you.”

33

Keyanna

I watch in horror as Brodie and Lachlan reach a standoff—Brodie’s knife is so close to Lachlan’s stomach that it would take only the tiniest movement for it to run him through. Panic claws at my chest as I try to think of what to do, how to help, but I’m frozen in place, having seemed to have forgotten how to move.

I call for Lachlan again and again, but he ignores me as he continues to grip Brodie by the wrist, keeping him from stabbing him but also not actually removing himself from harm’s way. They say something to each other, something I don’t make out, and I see Lachlan lean in closer, the knife at his belly practically touching him now.

I let out a scream when Brodie bucks up suddenly, taking Lachlan off guard and managing to flip him so thatLachlanis now the one pinned down, and my limbs remember how to work as the fear of actually seeing Lachlan run through with that wicked-looking knife courses through me.

I spin on my heel and sprint in the other direction, trying to find something familiar to let me know what I’m looking for. At first, all the headstones look the same, but once I find the barbed wire fence that Lachlan helped me under only a few weeks ago, I’m able tobacktrack from there, finally standing in front of what we’ve all been searching for. All this time.

And it’s been right here under our noses.

I don’t have time to take in the intricately carved bust of a horse, the detailing in the headstone obvious even in its weathered state—but I can’t help running my fingers over the name that’s nearly rubbed off, remembering it from the last time I was here.

TheTis clearly visible, and even though the rest of the name is still almost impossible to read—I know it now. He’d been here all along.

Tavish MacKay.

I reach for the ancient-looking leather strap that rests on the horse head, properly adorned as if you could urge the animal to get up and go even now. I’m gentle as I remove it, knowing it now for what it is, and even holding it in my hands—it’s kind of hard to believe. It looks so worn, so plain…it looks nothing at all like some all-powerful artifact.

But I don’t have time to dwell on that.

I hold it up high over my head as I run back to the clearing where Lachlan is still snarling under Brodie’s weight, fighting back against the gravity of Brodie’s knife as he tries to drive it downward right into Lachlan’schest.The organ inmychest lurches at the sight. I watch in horror as he puts all his body weight into it, Lachlan onlyjustmanaging to shove Brodie’s hand away so that the knife pierces Lachlan in the shoulder instead of through the heart.

Lachlan’s cry of pain guts me, the immediate blooming of red on his sweater forcing my mouth open.

“Brodie!” I yell, holding the bridle higher. “Stop it! This is what you want!”

He blinks at me when he notices what I’m holding; his arms relax a fraction even as his knife remains lodged in Lachlan’s shoulder, and I hold out the bridle in offering.

“Don’t hurt him anymore,” I tell Brodie, “and you can have it.”

Brodie’s eyes narrow as if this is some sort of trick, but with Lachlan still hissing in pain beneath him, his sweater becoming more and more drenched with his blood by the second—he seems to let down his guard. He tugs the knife free without any finesse, earning another pained grunt from Lachlan, who he ignores as he rises to his feet, stepping away from him.

“S’good choice,” Brodie tells me, pointing the knife my way defensively. I have to actively not look at it, the sight of Lachlan’s blood making me feel sick. “Now hand it over, Key. I don’t want to hurt you. You did nothing wrong. You’re avictimhere, don’t you see?” He gestures back at Lachlan’s prone form. “He’sthe monster.”

I nod slowly, not daring to answer; the crazed look in Brodie’s eyes doesn’t spark the desire to try and reason with him. I hold out the bridle with only slightly shaking hands, my gut twisting as he takes it gingerly. His lips curl in a maniacal grin as he stares down at it, his hand that holds the knife dropping to his side as he appraises the leather with his thumb.

I’m already moving around him to go to Lachlan, desperate to try and heal his wound, but am taken off guard when Brodie kicks out his leg, tripping me and forcing me down to the ground. I grunt in pain as I collide with the solid earth, hearing Brodie tsk above me.

“You’re still choosing to be ignorant, then?” He grips the bridle in one hand, shaking his head disappointedly. “I really did like you, you know. It’s a shame.”

He wipes Lachlan’s blood on the leg of his pants unceremoniously,turning back to Lachlan with a murderous intent in his eyes. I don’t even let him make it a step before I reach out and grab for his ankle, holding it as tightly as I can to try to stop him from going.

He looks down at me, amusement playing out over his features. “You don’t know when to give up. Do you?”

I close my eyes, blocking out his voice, trying to concentrate. He says something else, something with that same condescending tone, but I keep my hands around his ankle, drawing on that energy, filling that well inside as I give all my focus toone single purpose.I feel it when it happens, the heat rushing down my arms and through my hands until the burning is a physical thing, and then I smile to myself even as Brodie continues to bluster above me.

And that’s when his pant leg bursts into flames.