Page 2

Chapter One

C allan’s blood is still under my fingernails.

I scrub my hands raw in the hospital sink, but it won’t come off. Not the blood, and certainly not the memory of him twisted in that wreck, half-conscious and calling out for Avery.

Aidric leans against the tiled wall, arms crossed, jaw ticking. "How the fuck did this happen?"

"She called me," I mutter, eyes down as I watch the blood run down the drain. "She was screaming so loud I could barely make out what she was saying."

I'm not sure I'll ever forget the sound of her screams.

We got to the scene of the accident before the fire fighters even cut him out. I can still hear the metal shrieking as the jaws of life peeled open the driver’s side door. Avery was barefoot, fighting to get past the barricade.

She was the first one on the scene, and she dialed 911 on the way.

We pulled up as she was grabbing a fire extinguisher from her car to try and keep the flames away from Callan.

Once they died down, she tried to climb through the window to him, screaming for him to stay awake.

His eyes stayed on her the whole time, and when we were forced back by the emergency crew, Avery nearly lost her mind.

Aidric had to hold her back while the paramedics swarmed Callan. Once he was on the stretcher, we were able to see him before he was loaded into the ambulance. I remember grabbing his bloody hand, promising him he'd pull through this. And he will.

But the wreckage doesn't chill me nearly as much as the figure I saw running into the trees, away from the scene as soon as we pulled up.

He was wearing one of our black ceremonial cloaks with gold stitching at the collar, along with one of our masks.

Not the knockoff ones or a Halloween costume—it was one of ours because they have a special crest stamped into the side of them.

In my gut, I know the masked figure had something to do with it all.

I didn’t even notice the fucker until Avery threw the fire extinguisher into the tree line, not wanting to let it near the flames or hot surfaces.

Even in an emergency, she seemed to be thinking straight.

Despite all of her screaming, she was the only one of us who was actually prepared for the scene.

Before we got into our car, I told the cops to check the brake lines.

Avery said Callan was on his way to her because someone broke into her dorm and left a cryptic note with a bloody arrow.

She said he couldn’t stop, that he was slamming the brakes and nothing happened.

It wasn’t hard to do the math and I have an inkling that the masked asshole in the woods is who we'll be searching for.

I figured the cops would brush me off and chalk it up to paranoia or assume that Callan was driving impaired, but I brought it to Mr. Cromwell anyway.

Callan’s dad has some pull here and there was a quick report sent his way just minutes after Callan arrived at the hospital. Sure enough, the brake line was cut.

I haven't told Aidric about the masked figure yet. I'm not sure why. Maybe it's because part of me is still hoping it wasn’t one of us—an Ice Lord. Even if, in my gut, I know better.

Aidric sent one of the newest recruits to Avery's dorm to clean up the mess. They were told to bring anything that looked out of place straight to The Chamber. When we found blood on the arrow shaft, we immediately had one of our insiders run it through the system. Now we wait.

This wasn’t just sabotage; it was a message from one of our own, or someone pretending to be. That’s the thought that has been plaguing me, wondering if we really have a traitor in our midst and who would be after Callan specifically.

My skin is red when Aidric shuts off the water and places a hand over mine, a clear warning in his gaze that I need to stop. Even I know I’m spiraling, but there's nothing I can do about it right now.

There was so much fucking blood.

"Let’s go," Aidric says, and I follow him to our best friend's side, the one who has been with us since the moment he stepped into the world of the Ice Lords. He isn’t just a friend to us; he's a brother, which is why this is all the more excruciating.

Time passes as we just stare at him, waiting for a change. It's been hours and he hasn't even moved. Avery sits in the chair beside him, her hand in his and her eyes bloodshot from how closely she's been watching him.

I stare at Callan in disbelief, wondering when everything got so fucked up.

His face is almost unrecognizable beneath the bruising, burns, and bandaged jaw.

Aidric stands, taking Avery by the shoulder even as she scowls.

"You can give me that face all you want, Little Devil, but you need to get something to eat or at least drink."

I’m shocked by his tenderness with her, but I’m even more shocked when she slowly stands, her legs wobbling slightly as she obeys him. He doesn’t let her get far before he puts a hand on her back and helps her along.

Aidric isn't one to touch girls like that, not gently. But after he saw what she did for our boy, I think we are both looking at her a little differently—at least, for now.

I take the seat beside Callan, my legs tired, like they’ve been carrying someone else’s weight.

"You look like shit," I mutter under my breath.

He doesn’t respond, obviously, but I keep talking because the silence is too damn loud.

"Callan," I say softly. "If there’s any part of you still in there, wake the fuck up. We need you. I need you."

I chuckle. "Look at me getting all mushy and shit. You see what the hell you've done?"

I bite the inside of my cheek and drop my head. "You always knew when something was coming," I whisper. "Even before the rest of us saw it. So what the hell, man? Why didn’t you see this?"

I lift my eyes to the bandage stretched across his chest, hiding the bruises along his ribs. Thankfully, he was seat belted in. That’s probably the only reason he’s still breathing.

Fuck. That mask won’t stop replaying in my head.

I lean in, voice dipping low. "One of them was there, Callan. One of us. Wearing the cloak and the mask. I don’t know if it was real, or some twisted replica, but they were there."

My fists clench at my sides. Guilt rises like bile in my throat. "I should’ve told Aidric and Avery, but I didn't because I don’t know who the hell to trust anymore."

My eyes lock on his. Still closed and still too quiet.

"I know it’s not Aidric," I mutter. "But it could be someone else, someone close. Someone we’ve looked in the eye.

" I exhale, slow and sharp. "But I also know it’s not her." I say the words like a line drawn in blood. "It’s not the girl you fell for—the one you’d set the world on fire for. Avery’s hands are clean. "

My jaw tightens. "But someone’s aren’t. And we’re running out of time to find out who the hell it is before someone else gets hurt."