Page 59 of Donovan

But Kit was already shaking his head. “You don’t know that.”

“I do.” My voice rose, desperate now. “You know Declan. The kind of man he is?—”

“The kind of man he was,” Kit corrected. His gaze burned with conviction. “But he’s a vampire now, Donovan. And you can’t tell me for sure that he didn’t do it.”

I stared at him, something in my chest twisting into a painful knot.

Kit wasn’t just here as a friend. He was here as a hunter. And the Guild was already building a case against Declan.

If they thought he was responsible…if they decided he needed to be eliminated…I knew exactly what came next.

Kit’s eyes locked onto mine, his expression grim with finality.

“Come back with me,” he said. It wasn’t a plea. It was an order wrapped in the thin veneer of concern.

I exhaled sharply, rolling my shoulders back, forcing myself to stay calm. “Kit.”

“You need to come back and explain your side of the story,” he pressed, his voice steady, his stance unyielding. “The Guild?—”

“The Guild doesn’t care about my side of the story.” My voice was sharp, cutting.

I continued, “They’ve already made up their minds. I go back, and they’ll see me as one of two things. A liability or a traitor. And we both know how they deal with either.”

Kit’s jaw clenched. “That’s not true.”

I laughed, but there was no humor in it.

“Isn’t it? Look me in the eye and tell me the Guild will just listen, that they won’t throw me in a cell, interrogate me, bleed me dry for answers before deciding whether I’m worth keeping alive,” I said.

Kit didn’t say anything.

That was answer enough.

I shook my head. “No. I’m not going back.”

Kit exhaled harshly, dragging a hand through his hair. “You’re being difficult, Donovan.”

“I’m not one of you anymore,” I said, softer now. “And let’s be real, Kit. You didn’t come here to bring me back for my sake. You came because the Guild told you to. You came to drag me home.”

My lips twisted. “But that place was never home to me. Not really.”

Kit flinched. He might have argued, but we both knew the truth.

The Guild wasn’t family. It was an obligation. A burden we’d carried since the day we were old enough to hold a blade.

And I wasn’t carrying it anymore.

“My place is with Declan,” I said, finality settling into my bones. “That’s not going to change.”

Kit’s expression darkened. “Even knowing what he is?”

I stepped closer, holding his gaze. “Especially knowing what he is.”

For a long, tense moment, neither of us spoke. The forest around us had gone deathly quiet, as if the trees themselves were holding their breath.

Finally, Kit exhaled through his nose, his mouth pulling into a tight line.

“Fine,” he said, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a slip of paper. He shoved it into my hand, his touch rough, almost angry.