Page 97 of Begin Again
She doesn’t even glance back. “Damn right, I am.” And then she’s gone.
The game is over.
Now it’s war.
25
Theo
The living room at Selene’s place is thick with tension and quiet, but not in a peaceful way. It’s the silence that comes before a storm. The last time we were here was game night a few days ago when we got the worst confirmation of our lives.
Valkyrie paces restlessly, sniffing at shoes and nudging hands for attention, oblivious to the storm brewing in the room. She’s always been good at reading a room, sensing moods before anyone speaks a word.
I sit on the couch, elbows on my knees, staring at the floor. The weight of what we’re about to do presses against my chest like a stone. Across the room, Orion stands near the window, arms crossed, jaw tight. Mo leans against the dining table, unreadable. Bennett twirls a pen between his fingers, deceptively casual. Next to me, Celeste absently scratches behind Valkyrie’s ears, her gaze flickering toward the newcomer.
The guy Orion brought with him, he just introduced him as a part of his team. He stands near the door, taking everything in with an almost lazy posture. But I know better. There’s a sharpness to his eyes, a quiet calculation behind the easy smirk. He’s built like a man who’s seen his fair share of fights and walked away from all of them. His dark hair is long and pulled back in a tight braid, and there’s the shadow of stubble across his jaw. I don’t know his real name yet, only what Orion introduced him as, but I do know one thing—hehatesbeing called Lucy.
I glance at Celeste just as she shifts slightly, her gaze flicking over him like she’s sizing him up. Or appreciating the view. She’s subtle about it, but not subtle enough for me to miss. And I’m not the only one.
He catches her looking. One corner of his mouth lifts, slow and deliberate. Celeste, unbothered, just raises a brow like she’s daring him to speak. Instead, he just chuckles under his breath, shaking his head slightly before looking away.
Well. That’s interesting.
The late afternoon sun filters through the windows, casting long shadows across the wooden floor. The scent of our coffee from breakfast lingers in the air, but it does nothing to settle my stomach. The weight of what we’re about to do sits heavy on all of us.
“So, we’re doing this on their anniversary?” Selene asks, leaning against the wall with her arms crossed.
“It’ll be the best chance we’ve got,” Orion says. “She’s going to be at Gabriel’s grave for sure. She won’t be expecting anyone else to be there, let alone all of us.”
I exhale sharply, dragging a hand down my face. “I don’t know if I’m ready for this.”
Mo’s voice is gentle but firm. “You don’t have to be. But we do have to do it.”
Bennett finally speaks up. “She’s not going to react well. The moment we bring up Gabriel, my existence, or your father, she’s going to deflect or try to spin it.”
“She’s spent her whole life manipulating people,” I mutter. “She turned an entire town against Cassie because she needed a scapegoat. She’s not going to crumble the second we confront her.”
Valkyrie huffs dramatically and flops onto the floor, making Celeste chuckle. “Even the dog’s exhausted just thinking about it,” she murmurs.
The giant watches the exchange, one brow raised. “Cassie,” he muses, his voice low and even. “That’s the woman she framed?”
I nod.
“She still in town?”
“Yeah,” I answer. “She almost lost her job, but she has a house up near the mountain.”
Goliath hums in acknowledgment, tucking his hands into his pockets. “Convenient for Aubrey. She’s going to test you. If she’s as good as you say, she’ll sniff out any uncertainty and use it.” His eyes flick to Orion. “This operation requires control. Are we sure everyone here can handle that?”
I look up at him, meeting his gaze. “We don’t have a choice.”
He studies me for a beat before nodding slightly. “Good answer.”
“Yeah, yeah, Lucy, we get it. Control is key,” Orion says, smirking slightly.
The guy’s entire body tenses. His jaw tightens, and he shifts just slightly like he’s debating whether it’s worth it to react.
“Don’t call me that,” he mutters.
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