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“Stop!” I finally snap, pushing him back hard as the barn makes its last, furious groan.

Tears course down my face, dust is choking me, and all the fury I absorbed is bursting from beneath my skin.

“ Stop ,” I sob, shoving him back again, though he isn’t doing anything anymore. “Why didn’t they...”

Then he sighs.

And gruffly, he says, “Come on. You can do better than that, sugar.”

My nails dig into his arm and more hot tears spill out. “They kept them out in a barn , Jayk. It’s so cold out here. They?—”

The cold was probably the last of their worries.

I spin away from him, but Jayk yanks me back in, and the small scream that leaves me is animal pain. Pure fury. I shove him back again, then hit his chest with both fists.

“They what ? Come on, Miss Manners, I saw you today. You wanted to gut him.” Jayk grips my chin and looks me in the eye. “I would have fucking loved to have seen it.”

Sawyer, and his wheedling, smarmy fucking cowardice.

I did want to kill him. I had my knife in my pocket, and he had the nerve to compare the scum that died here to my Dom. The nerve to try to manipulate us, manipulate the women here, our civs, Jennifer, me .

If Jasper hadn’t held me back, I’d have buried that damn knife in Sawyer’s throat.

More wrathful tears spill over my cheeks, and Jayk’s expression is rough, knowing , and so full of its own rage.

“Hit me, Eden. Show me how you would have done it,” he orders.

Sawyer.

I lift my hand to slap him, but he stops it, adjusting my hand into a fist.

“Don’t fucking slap me. He didn’t steal your lipliner. Hit me,” Jayk snaps, and the fury snaps through me.

I throw the punch, and it connects with Jayk’s stomach hard enough to bruise my knuckles. The pain of it thrills through me. The brutal relief of connecting, of having a target, pumps my veins.

And it’s not enough.

I punch him again, and Jayk grunts at the contact.

Sawyer’s face as he cringed away from the barn.

“He didn’t even have the balls to look at it!” I snap, punching him again. This one he catches, tossing me back, then gestures at me to try again.

So I do.

“How dare he act ashamed,” I growl as I make contact again, lost to my fury.

“How dare he act like a guilty, sad fucking child when he’s been doing this for years ?

Where does he get the audacity ? To trap and use and sell people and act like he’s the victim?

How am I meant to act like I don’t want to fucking kill him? ”

Nodding once, Jayk adjusts my arm, then kicks my leg back for a different stance as I rage.

For the next hour, he lets me slake my rage on him.

Until he’s covered in bruises, and I’m trembling with exhaustion.

Until we both curl up on the grass together in grim, understanding silence.

Until air finally fills my lungs, and the ash has settled back to the earth, ready for the next wind to stir it.

And as I nurse my aching hand and gratefully kiss Jayk’s bruises one by one, I decide the women don’t only need a witness.

They deserve justice.

I stop in the middle of the field, kneeling in the grass as I tug the map out of my pocket. Wedging the phone between my shoulder and my ear, I measure out the coordinates and make a mark on a small patch of green. A cow eyes me sideways from the next pasture, but I shoot it a frown then ignore it.

Even the cows have ears.

“Okay, so that’s by the red silo. What time?” I ask as Dom crouches beside me.

He’s sweaty and dirty from the last fight—he only got back from it an hour ago, but he decided to go for a walk with me instead of cleaning up. His eyes narrow on the map, and I put the phone on speaker.

“They’re forty-five minutes out. Twenty-two of them. All are fair game. Mateo is with them. Don’t shoot him,” Alastair advises curtly.

Dom’s jaw tightens, and he plucks up the phone as he stands. “We need more fucking notice than that. You’re three hours out. The least you can do is tell us when they’re leaving.

“You Rangers are rapid deployment, aren’t you? Rapidly deploy ,” Alastair bites back.

Dom’s brows flatten, and I take the phone back from him before he can rip into Alastair. I hold it against my chest.

“Do you have what you need?” I ask Dom calmly, and he stares at me for a long, hard moment.

“Yes.”

I nod, softening my expression. “Be careful then, please.”

Dom eyes my face, and a touch of wry humor spills into his irritation. He kisses my forehead.

“You’re managing me,” he mutters, and I try not to smile.

“No, sir. I wouldn’t dare.”

Dom’s brow kicks up. “Right back to camp when you’re done. No detours.”

Camp is quite literally in the next pasture, far away from any Reapers or Sinners whatsoever, but I nod to him anyway.

He smacks my ass hard and leaves me smiling as he speaks into the little radio on his kit. “Steel Rain, this is Boss Man...”

I bring the phone back up to my ear, watching Dom head for camp.

“Dom is on his way. We’ll take care of it,” I tell Alastair, and I hear his testy exhale.

“Fine.”

Before he can end the call, I quickly say, “Alastair?”

“What, Eden? I don’t have much time here. I have more ammunition for you, by the way. I’m having Mateo leave it by the silo during this attack.”

The small white flowers under me are crushed, and I stare at the bruised petals with a frown.

“Is everything okay on your end? Forgive me for saying so, but you sound...” Snappish. Cold. Distracted. “Tired.”

There’s a long, taut pause on the other end.

Then Alastair sighs briefly. “Heather and Sullivan are whipping up more trouble than expected. Their influence is growing, and it’s becoming more... difficult... to contain. But we’re managing it. It’s been an effective distraction for Bane as well.”

Heather? Is this about the rebellion Alastair mentioned?

I sit back against the fence, running through the worries and dangers and implications of that. The sun is dazzlingly hot for the time of day, but it’s not the only reason I feel sweat beading on my skin.

“Don’t underestimate her, Alastair,” I tell him urgently.

“I know Heather lets her emotions rule her, but she isn’t stupid.

I really, really think you need to let her in on what’s happening.

This could get out of hand so easily, and that’s not to mention how much I loathe that she’s being lied to?—”

“What, exactly, do you want me to tell her?” Alastair snaps back.

“I told her your captain is alive, that I didn’t kill him, and she refused to believe me.

I’ve told her, shown her in a dozen different ways that I’m protecting the captives here, that I’m keeping her safe.

I’ve shown her the kind of future I want to build.

Bentley has tried, Mateo has tried—the stubborn fucking woman won’t believe a word.

I am her villain , Eden, and she will never let me be anything else. ”

Slowly, I close my mouth, stunned.

Alastair isn’t just obsessed with Heather.

The man is head over heels in love with her.

These days, I know very, very well what that sounds like.

The cow sidles over to me, nudging me with its heavy muzzle, and I absently rub it back.

Alastair draws in a deep, shaky breath, and I can practically hear him regretting his outburst. He’s not the type of man who has them often.

But with enough pressure inside it, every bottle will burst at some point—and I somehow doubt he shares these feelings with Mateo.

“I’m sorry, Alastair,” I tell him, meaning it.

And I am.

I know how deeply Heather loves... and her hate burns just as fiercely. There’s no hope for them. He’s fallen for the wrong woman.

“There’s no truth I could give her that she’ll accept... not when the one truth she cares about is the one that broke her heart.” Alastair’s hushed voice is almost too soft to hear, like this is a confessional, and I’m his priest. “That one truth will condemn me.”

Thomas.

I stroke the cow’s soft nose, trying to choose my next words carefully. If there’s no chance of him or Bentley bringing Heather around, then her being there is only a liability to our plans. If she’s insisting on working against him, she’s also working against us .

“You need to free her, Alastair. Send her to us,” I coax him softly. “It’s the kindest thing to do for everyone. Then she can see it for herself. She can?—”

“She won’t leave the captives,” Alastair says bitterly. “She’s had her opportunities to leave, and she won’t take them.”

“Then put her on the phone. Let me talk to her, or Dom. We could?—”

“ No !”

The word is loud, a break in his hush, and the sudden difference frightens me—it frightens me despite the warmth in the air and the soft nose under my fingers and the fact that he’s hours away.

He’s not a man I ever feel easy around, even though I believe in his code.

Because that code is still a cold, violent thing.

Alastair’s wintry voice burns down the phone. “If Heather has a death wish, then she’ll pursue it with me . If she wants a villain, then I’ll be hers... because it means I am hers. She’s safe, Eden, and she’s made it clear this is where she wants to be. Don’t bring this up with me again.”

The call cuts off with brutal finality, and the phone trembles in my palm.

Their hate could kill us all.

“No!” Alastair snaps on the other end of the line, his usual control as frayed as ours. “We can’t take any more losses right now! The small raids on the outbuildings aren’t enough .”

Dom’s face darkens, and he bends over the maps strewn over the table. “You’ve killed over fifty Reapers. You burned the wheat fields. It’s not like it’s one-sided here.”

We’re all back in his tent. It’s late, too late, but we need to get the next few battles ironed out, and Sawyer’s been sticking annoyingly close to our camp lately.

When I sigh, Lucky kisses my cheek absently, like it’s a habit, and I lean back into him.