Page 24

CHAPTER 23

I pull Avery into me, holding her tight against my chest. My hand finds the back of her head, stroking gently, trying to calm the tremble in her body. She’s crying, and not the kind of tears that come from mental pain. I know her, and no words would make her react like this.

“What happened?” I ask, bracing myself for the worst as I stare into her eyes.

She’s obviously distressed, shaking uncontrollably and barely holding it together. It’s not often I see Avery cry. And I sure as hell don’t like that it was at the hands of someone else.

Fuck. Truth is, I don’t like it at all.

Not the tears, not the vulnerability, and certainly not the way it makes something twist deep in my chest. No matter how many games we play, how much shit we’ve thrown at each other, seeing her like this gets to me.

The only sounds that escape her are stuttered breaths as she clings to me.

I shift, sliding an arm around her waist and moving to her side. “Come with me,” I whisper as I lead her to the staircase. We move slowly, weaving through the crowd as people pass by, laughing, drinking, completely unaware of the storm curled against my hip.

A minute later, we’re at my door. It’s already cracked open so I give it a gentle kick and guide her inside, straight to my bed.

She sits on the edge, silently shaking. I pull the string on my bedside lamp and sit beside her.

Her head hangs low, eyes fixed on her lap as she fumbles with her fingers. She’s fragile in a way I’ve never seen and I fucking hate it.

“Hey,” I say softly, tipping her chin up with my thumb so I can see her face. “Was it Sebastian?”

She shakes her head.

“Aidric?”

A small, reluctant nod.

Just like that, something manic twists in my gut. I clench my jaw, grinding my teeth to keep the rage from spilling out. My hand fists the sheet beside me, gripping it tightly.

Hold it together, Callan. It might not be as bad as you think.

But that small voice of reason is drowning in a sea of crimson because no matter what happened, Aidric did something to hurt her.

Avery makes a move and I pull back, watching every motion as she grasps the side of her shirt. Her fingers curl around the hem, and she lifts it slowly, pain etched on her face.

That’s when I see it.

“Jesus Christ,” I growl, forcing myself to stay and not bolt out of this room to hunt Aidric down.

Right below her breastbone, etched into the soft skin of her side, is a stamp. Our stamp.

He didn’t just hurt her, he branded her. No! He fucking binded her— to us.

Rage surges through me, washing out every rational thought. I had a feeling this might happen if she kept stirring the damn pot, but I don’t tell her that. The less Avery knows, the better. She’s already in too deep. And whether she realizes it or not, Aidric just sealed her fate. Because once you wear our mark, there’s no escape.

“What does this mean?” she asks, voice cracking as she looks down at the burn. It’s red and welting a bit around the edges. He clearly pressed too fucking hard and she no doubt fought him every step of the way.

“I’m not entirely sure,” I tell her truthfully because I really don’t know the details.

What I do know is, The Society’s rules have never specified gender, only that the branded shall be one of us.

However this plays out will be a surprise for all of us. I don’t think Aidric even realizes the extent of what he just did.

“I’ll find out,” I say softly. “You’ll be fine. I’m not gonna let anything happen to you.”

Something’s shifted in me over the last couple days. I don’t know exactly when it happened, or why. Maybe it was seeing her bound on that altar, stripped of her fire. Whatever it was, something cracked open.

It was subtle at first, but now it’s impossible to ignore. I’ve gone from loving this girl, to hating her, to…whatever the hell this is. I don’t even have a name for it. All I know is, I don’t like it.

This would be so much easier if I could be like Aidric. If I could just revel in the chaos, break her down piece by piece, and walk away with no guilt.

But I can’t do it anymore because somewhere along the way, I stopped wanting to hurt her and began wanting to protect her. Even if that does make me the biggest threat of all.

She doesn’t say another word, just lies back, curled into a ball like she’s gone numb.

I watch her for a moment, then reach out and gently stroke her hair until her eyes begin to close.

And when they do, I ease my arms beneath her, cradling her against my chest. I lift her carefully to the top of the bed, settling her down like she’s something breakable. Because right now, she is.

Moving slowly and quietly, I go to my bathroom and grab a jar of salve. When I return to her, I scoop out a fingertip’s worth and set the jar down beside my bed.

Lifting her shirt slowly, I rub the salve on her burn. She winces, but doesn’t wake. Once I’m done, I lower her shirt, pull the blanket over her, and lie down beside her.

Close, but not close enough. And that’s probably for the best because if I let myself get any closer, I might not be able to pull away.

“Where’s Benson?”

I shoot up, panic blooming in my chest. “What?” I gasp, blinking over at Avery, who’s now sitting upright beside me.

“Benson,” she says again, her voice sharp and urgent. “Where the hell is he?”

I sigh, dropping my head back onto the pillow. “He left after the lap dance with a group of guys he knows.”

I watch as the tension in her shoulders drops, but she doesn’t lie back down.

“How’d you sleep?” I ask.

She shakes her head. “Slept fine. But please tell me last night was just some twisted nightmare.”

“Afraid not,” I mutter, rolling onto my side to face her. I tuck my hands under the pillow, keeping my mouth low so she doesn’t get a whiff of my heinous morning breath.

She didn’t ask, but I slept like the dead. First full night’s sleep I’ve had in a while. No tossing, no nightmares clawing at the edge of my mind. Seems like sleeping next to her was the antidote.

“This is fucked up, Callan,” she snaps. “I’ve got a third-degree burn on my side, which is going to scar in the shape of your satanic cult’s branding.”

There’s the feisty Avery I’ve grown to like.

I don’t respond because she’s right, this is fucked up. But I’ve got nothing to say until I talk to Aidric and Seb and figure out what the hell any of this actually means. Until then, there’s no point in diving into a conversation I’m unprepared for.

So instead, I lighten the mood. “Want breakfast?” I ask, like everything’s normal.

“No, I don’t want breakfast,” she huffs, clearly annoyed. “I want answers, but even more than that…” she begins as she peels the blanket off her and stands. “I wanna go home.”

She stumbles, grabbing the sides of her head. “Ugh,” she groans. “I don’t feel so hot.” Then, in the blink of an eye, she’s hauling ass into the open bathroom. The door doesn’t even shut behind her before I hear the sounds of her throwing up.

I swing my legs over the side of the bed and stand, adjusting my morning wood with a sigh. “You okay?” I call out as I head toward her.

She’s curled over the toilet, hair draped in front of her face like a curtain. I move beside her, gathering the tangled mess into my hands, holding it back as another wave hits.

I’m forced to look away because suddenly, my own stomach’s not feeling so hot either. Funny how blood, bruises, and broken bones don’t faze me in the slightest, but the smell of alcohol-soaked vomit curls my stomach like nothing else.

Once she’s done, her head lifts and I let go of her hair, watching as it falls into place, framing her face.

She groans, mutters something under her breath, and reaches for the hand towel lying on the floor beside her.

Shit.

I immediately remember using that towel to clean up after I jerked off yesterday morning. I open my mouth to say something, but before anything comes out, she’s already wiping her mouth with it.

Fuck it. Not like she won’t be tasting my jizz at one point or another anyways. We’ll just call this a little preview.

Dropping the towel back down and after flushing the toilet, she murmurs, “I think I’m better.” She shifts, pushing herself up, and I slip my hand under her arm, helping her to her feet. Her weight leans into me for a beat longer than she needs to, and I don’t move.

“There’s some toothbrushes in the top drawer,” I say, keeping my tone even.“Clean towels in the cupboard, if you wanna freshen up.”

What I don’t say is how much I want to pull her into the shower, scrub the night off her skin with my hands, and feel her back pressed against my chest. But knowing her, she’d knee me in the balls, curse me out, then throw up on my feet. So yeah. Maybe not today.

Avery nods and drifts toward the sink. I follow, grabbing my toothbrush and dragging a smear of toothpaste across it.

I catch her side snarl in the mirror, watching me like I’m some stray dog in her territory.

Smirking, I stick the toothbrush in my mouth and start brushing, feeling the coolness of mint against my tongue. For a second, I’m tempted to reach out and poke her side, something stupid to make her laugh like she used to. Back when things were easy. Back when we didn’t have to tiptoe around each other like strangers with too much history.

But my hand stays still because that was then and this is now. We’re not those kids anymore.

Once we finish in the bathroom, Avery follows me into my room and out to the hallway. There’s a guy passed out on the floor three doors down with a beach towel tossed over him. I don’t evenblink because it’s just another morning at this house.

We head down the stairs, but I pause halfway, catching the full extent of the wreckage from last night. There are cups and trash littered everywhere, glitter glistening on the couch. There’s a sticky liquid splattered across the hardwood, and someone's shoes are stuffed into the cupholders on one of the recliners.

It looks like a war zone, but the cleanup crew is already on it. By the time I get back from dropping Avery off, I bet it’ll look like a party never happened here.

Stopping in the kitchen, I snag a couple bottled waters from the fridge and hand one to her.

“Thanks,” she whispers, so soft I almost miss it.

We slip through the side door into the garage, the scent of motor oil thick in the air.With a click of the remote, I watch as one of the sleek black SUVs lights up, and we waste no time hopping in.

As I back out of the garage, one hand grips the wheel while the other slides behind Avery, resting on the headrest. Yeah, I’ve got a backup cam, but I’m old-school in that way.

Out of the corner of my eye, I catch her unzipping her purse. She pulls out her phone, except something else slips out with it.

My gaze lands on the numbers, the lines. What the hell? Before she can shove it back, I reach over and snatch it right out from under her fingers.

“Where’d you get this?” I hold the map up between us, my voice sharp.

Her throat bobs, lips parted slightly. “I found it last night.”

My eyebrows shoot up. “You found it?”

She nods.

“Avery, you didn’t just find this. You went looking. You sought it out, didn’t you?”

My foot slams the brake pedal as I throw the SUV into park, only halfway out of the garage.

My head drops back, eyes closed for a second too long. “This is why he marked you, isn’t it?” I turn to her again. “Aidric caught you down there. Didn’t he?”

She nods again.

Fuck.

I flip the visor down and slide the map into the crease, then snap it shut. She watches me, eyes narrowed like she’s already planning how to get it back.

I catch her gaze and level her with a look of warning. “Don’t even think about it,” I stammer. “Haven’t you already gotten yourself into enough trouble?”

I shift into drive and ease us out of the garage, jaw tight. With any luck, the surprises will stop long enough for me to make it down the fucking driveway.

“When the hell will you learn to leave well enough alone?” I ask, tone flat.

“It’s hard, Callan,” she says, and for once, there’s no fire in it—just sheer exhaustion. “I just want to know everything. I need to know what I’m up against.”

I let out a dry, bitter scoff. “Up against, huh? So that’s still the plan? You still think you’re gonna take us down?”

“No,” she snaps, fast and hard. “Not really. I mean, I’m not dumb enough to go blabbing about what I know. But I’m also not naive enough to think we’re all playing on the same damn field.”

“We are now,” I mutter under my breath.

She doesn’t catch it, or maybe she does and just chooses not to respond.

I don’t think she fully realizes it yet. Hell, I’m not sure I do.

This isn’t just about the Ice Lords. This is about something older and more powerful. Something even I’m impervious to.

“Look,” she says point-blankly as she turns in her seat, one leg tucked under the other. “I’m not angry with you about this part, Callan.” She lifts her shirt, a fresh reminder of what she’s done. Of what he’s done.

“I know Aidric and Sebastian pull reckless, split-second shit that’s downright deplorable. I don’t blame you for that,” she says, voice steady but threaded with hurt. “But why the hell do you let them get away with it?”

One hand stays firm on the wheel as my eyes flick between her and the road. “It’s not about letting them get away with anything. It’s about loyalty, Avery. We’ve been over this. I have to protect this fucking society at all costs!”

“This isn’t you.” She shakes her head. “No. This cold, hard exterior you walk around in is just armor, it’s not the truth. You think I haven’t seen through it?” She leans in. “And don’t you dare tell me I don’t know you. Because I do.”

Her voice cracks slightly. “You might pretend you’ve turned into this hollowed-out version of yourself. But I’ve seen it, Callan. I’ve seen the real you pushing through the cracks again and again. No matter how hard you try to bury him.”

Her words hit somewhere deep, a place inside me I don’t let people near. Hell, I don’t even let myself look there too often.

The worst part is, she’s not wrong about me, or the cracks.

They’ve been showing more lately, no matter how hard I try to patch them over. And now she’s sitting there staring right into them like she’s not afraid of what she’ll find.

Her eyes search mine. “Why do you allow them to hurt me like this when it clearly hurts you too?”

Her words squeeze at my chest. “Have you considered the fact that everything I’ve done is to try and keep you from getting hurt?”

“No.” She chuckles dryly. “Because you’ve hurt me too, Callan. So if you really believe you’re protecting me, well…you’re not.”

I open my mouth to speak, but she barrels on.

“I just don’t get it,” she presses. “Why? Why rip into me, push me away, tear me down? Is it revenge because you think I hurt you?”

“You did hurt me.” The words slip out before I can stop them, and just like that, I can’t even look at her.

She shifts in her seat, straighter and sharper. “How, Callan?” she demands. “How did I hurt you?”

I can’t take it.

I swerve the car to the shoulder, tires kicking up gravel as I bring it to a screeching stop. “You fucking walked away from me, Avery!” My raw voice rips out like it’s been trapped for years.

“I was crazy about you, didn’t you see it? Fuck!” I shout, raking my hands through my hair, heart hammering. “I thought I was falling in love with you,” I say, the words landing heavier than I expected. “And then it happened. First time ever for me, I might add.”

Her head jerks slightly, eyes widening just enough to tell me she had no idea. Not that I was falling for her, and definitely not that she was my first.

“I had no idea,” she says softly, confirming what I already knew.

And maybe that’s what guts me the most. Because she didn’t mean to wreck me…she just did.

“Anyways,” I continue. “I finally had what I’d been craving, and in the next breath, you looked me in the eye, called it a mistake, and ran.”

I turn toward the windshield, jaw clenched. “You didn’t just leave the room that night. You left me.”

There’s a long beat of silence that feels like it’s wrapped around my throat, cutting off my air supply.

Then, she breaks it.

“You were falling in love with me?” Her voice is soft and emotion-laced.

I take a deep, audible breath, head shaking in small, defeated movements. “Maybe,” I say quietly. “Fuck. I don’t even know what it feels like to be in love.” I glance at her for a second. “But if I had to guess, then yeah, that was probably it.”

She reaches toward me, fingers trembling slightly. But when my gaze snaps instinctively to her hand, she pulls back fast, like she thinks I might bite her.

Her hand drops to her lap, and we sit in heavy silence.

Should’ve just kept my damn mouth shut. My heart’s pounding like it’s trying to punch its way out of my chest, and my palms are slick, sliding against the wheel. I hate this. Hate the way I’m cracked wide open in front of her, exposed in a way I swore I’d never be again. I just gave her the power to break me for a second time, and I’m not sure I can survive that shit twice.

“Why didn’t you just tell me all this?” she asks, finally breaking the silence.

I let out a bitter laugh under my breath, eyes fixed on the road ahead. “You never gave me the chance. And because of that, I was too busy hating you. I guess somewhere along the way, I convinced myself that it was easier than just telling you the truth.”

My grip tightens on the wheel, knuckles white as I wait for her response.

It doesn’t come fast enough, though.

Say something. Anything, dammit.

“I was supposed to visit my mom that day,” she says quietly.

My eyes shift to her, drawn in by the way her fingers wrap around the strap of her purse like it’s the only thing keeping her grounded.

“Brogan asked me to stay, so I figured missing one visit wouldn’t hurt. Besides…” She lifts a shoulder in a small shrug. “…I was excited to see you. Always was, back then.”

I swallow hard, trying to keep it together like I have for so long.

Avery looks at me, eyes red and rimmed with tears. For the first time in a long time, I see her. Not the girl I built walls against, but her .

“I didn’t see it until after I got out of your bed,” she says, her voice cracking. “The text. It was about my mom. She’d gotten into a fight with another resident at the facility. Scratched the woman up pretty badly and took a few hits to the face herself.” Her hands tremble in her lap. “They admitted her to the hospital for observation, and all I could think was, if I’d just gone to see her that day, maybe her mood would've been different.”

Her tears break free, sliding down her cheeks. Before I can stop myself, I reach across thecenter console, my fingers closing gently around hers.

“It’s not your fault,” I say softly, meaning every word. “There’s nothing you could’ve done. I know this,” I continue, voice low, “because I beat myself up the same way, over and over after my mom died.”

Her eyes flick to mine.

“I wasn’t there,” I admit, my throat tightening. “Everyone else was, but not me. I was at a friend’s house down the street, playing fucking Fortnite.” I laugh, but there’s no humor in it. Just self-loathing. “When I came home, she was gone.”

“I’m so sorry, Callan.” She sniffles, shaking her head like she’s trying to undo the weight of everything. “I didn’t mean to?—”

“No,” I cut her off, my thumb brushing over her knuckles. “Don’t be sorry. You didn’t do anything. Not then, and not now. Back then we were just kids trying to make sense of too much shit too fast.”

She nods, and for the first time in a long time, I feel the past loosening its grip on us. It’s not gone, but it’s not choking us either.

Silence hangs between us. I sit in my thoughts, and she sits in hers. But it’s not heavy anymore. It's just…still.

Slowly, I reach across and shift us back into drive, never letting go of her hand.

The car eases forward and I pull out onto the road, driving at a leisurely pace. There’s no rush, no pressure.

Maybe this won’t last. And I know things will never be what they were. But maybe they can be better.

I pull up in front of her dorm and put the car back in park.

Avery turns to me, her face no longer streaked with tears. “What now?” she asks, a small shrug lifting her shoulder.

I bite the corner of my lip, one hand draped lazily over the wheel.

“I’ve got a game on Saturday,” I say, watching her carefully. “Wanna come watch me?”

She lets out a soft chuckle, eyes dropping to her lap. “Haven’t I told you before, I’m not a hockey fan, Callan.”

I grin, tilting my head. “Any chance we can change that?”

She lifts a shoulder again, but this time there’s a hint of a smirk tugging at her lips. “We’ll see.”

With that, she pushes open the door and slips out. I wait, eyes following her every step as she crosses to the dorm entrance.

Just before she disappears inside, she tosses a quick glance over her shoulder, and it’s impossible to miss the smile on her face.

We dragged a lot of shit into the light today. I don’t know what comes next, but whatever it is, it has to be better than what’s come before. Even with the unknown still hanging over Avery. Whatever fate’s got lined up for her, I’ll make damn sure it’s better. I’ll take care of her.

I flash her a wink then I throw the car into gear to head home. Because as soon as I walk through that door, I’m tearing Aidric’s ass apart.