Page 27

Vero strode toward the main lodge, his boots crunching on the packed snow, his eyes narrowing at the conspicuous absence of guards. He stomped up the steps, shaking loose ice from his boots before stepping inside. The lodge felt eerily quiet, its emptiness prickling at his instincts. Frowning, he moved swiftly down the hallway toward Lyrica’s office. The room was dark, her chair empty. He scanned the space for signs of life but found none. His mind began to chu rn with unease.

A glance at his watch showed it was well past ten at night, which was late but not unusual for her to still be working. Perhaps she had gone to bed early? His chest tightened as he jogged up the stairs, heading for the living quarters. His bedroom remained empty. The silence in the house grew oppressive, his unease sharpening into suspicion.

Yanking his satellite phone from his jacket pocket, he dialed Lyrica’s number. The faint ring echoed from her office below. Perfect. He clenched his teeth, jogging back down the stairs. He’d handed her the sat phone for a reason, yet it proved completely useless now. Shaking his head, he punched in Jon athan’s number.

“Where are you?” Vero demanded when Jona than picked up.

“We’re about two miles from headquarters, near the more remote cabins,” Jonathan replied, his tone calm. “I was just abou t to call you.”

Irritation scratched down Vero’s throat. “What the hell are you doing out there?” he snapped, his voice hard as he stepped outside into the fr igid night air.

“We found another body by one of the newly built family cabins,” Jonathan said grimly. “A human female. She’s…frozen to the ground. We’re trying to extr icate her now.”

Vero stopped midstride, his breath visible in the cold air. “Wait a minute—” He spun toward the side of the lodge, heading for his stashed snowmobile. Jogging through the knee-deep snow, he cursed under his breath. “Why didn’t you call m e immediately?”

Jonathan coughed. “We’ve set up the lights and calmed Lyrica down. She felt deeply upset at finding yet another dead human female. I was just abou t to call you.”

“Give me your coordinates,” Vero barked, forcing his growing anger into a cold, controlled edge. The mention of Lyrica made his chest tighten. He imagined her, dark-haired and defiant, braving the brutal cold. “Lyrica is out in this weather? Tell me she’s at least staying warm.”

“She’s fine. Want t o talk to her?”

“No,” Vero muttered through gritted teeth. “Before I forget to tell you, I released Silas a few minutes ago. I’m going with my gut. He didn’t bring that female into the territory.” He’d known Silas forever. The guy w asn’t a killer.

The sound of crackling ice came over the line. “Silas was in custody when this female died. Well, maybe. I guess she could’ve been frozen any time,” Jonathan said.

“I’ll be right there.” Vero ended the call and shoved the phone into his pocket. He straddled and ignited the sled, pulling away from the building and onto the main drag. His grip on the handlebars tightened as he opened up the throttle, spun around, and drove past the lodge. The freezing wind whipped him as he pushed the snowmobile harder, leaning low to avoid the worst of the biting air. He hated not having Lyrica within arm’s reach, especially with an unknown enemy targeting them.

The mark on Vero’s palm pulsed faintly, as if echoing his frustration. He flexed his hand, grimacing. Silas had given him no leads on the experiments with demonesses or the scientists involved in the project. If his uncles and father had eliminated everyone who knew anything, Vero had no idea where else to search for answers. The mark itself—a demon surname starting with C —was another mystery he couldn’t solve. What demon family names began with that letter? What did i t mean for him?

Ahead, lights flickered in the dark, and Vero leaned into the ride, picking up speed. He crested a ridge and spotted the scene below. His jaw clenched at the sight. Lukas and Ralstad moved between a nearby cottage and a lifeless figure lying in the snow. Strong floodlights had been affixed to nearby trees, illuminating t he entire area.

Jonathan crouched over the frozen body, carefully pouring steaming water around her t o melt the ice.

Vero slowed the snowmobile to a stop and jumped off, his fury rekindling as he surveyed th e surroundings.

Steam rose as the water hit the ice, and Jonathan worked methodically to free her feet.

The UTV idled nearby, and Lyrica stepped out, her cheeks pink from the cold and her dark hair flecked with melting snow. The sight of her stirred something primal in Vero, the pulse in his palm intensifying with heat. She wrapped her arms around herself and trudged through the snow, teeth chattering. “Do we almost have her free?” she as ked, shivering.

“Yes,” Jonathan said with out looking up.

Vero’s gaze locked on her, his jaw tightening. “Get back in the UTV. It’s too cold out here.”

“I’m fine,” she retorted, though the blue tinge on her lips told another story.

He stepped toward her, towering over her. “Get back in the UTV, or I’ll put you there myself,” he growled, his voice low and dangerous.

Her glare faltered, and after a tense moment, she spun on her heel and stalked back to the vehicle. “Fine. I want to speak with Maeve, anyway.” She climbed into the driver’s seat with a huff, slamming the d oor behind her.

Ralstad watched her go, his jaw hard. “That female’s a free spirit.”

“No kidding,” Vero muttered as he crouched b eside the body.

Ralstad ducked and began pouring water near the female’s bare thighs. “You should take Lyrica in hand before she comes to harm, Vero.”

Vero narrowed his gaze on the older Kurjan. “Is that a threat?”

“Of course not. It’s a statement.” Ralstad leaned back to study the breaking ice. “We have enemies all around us. Nobody is safe. Especially unmated human females.”

An unfortunately true statement. With Paxton gone, Vero was currently running the entire Kurjan nation, and things had certainly gone to shit. The brand on his palm pulsed. He’d bitten her during sex the night before. Had he transferred the brand? He really didn’t know. Lyrica might not be so unmated, after all. The UTV stopped at the cabin, and he watched her jump out, possessiveness flowing through him, dark and sure.

Jonathan poured more water, pulling Vero’s focus back to the sad disaster at hand. The victim’s feet were almost free, but the ice around her shoulders remained stubborn. He accepted a fresh bucket from Jonathan and began pouring water with d eliberate care.

Another victim. A nother mystery.

And sti ll, no answers.

* * * *

Lyrica pulled up to the cottage, her teeth chattering despite the brief warmth of being in the UTV. Turning off the engine, she jumped out, her boots landing on a freshly shoveled path dusted with light snow. The wind cut through her layers, and she hustled as fast as her aching, frozen bones would allow. Reaching the door, she knocked firmly.

Maeve answered almost immediately, her eyes widening. “Oh, my goodness, get in here.” She ushered Lyrica inside, pulling her out of the biting cold. “You’re freezing. Take off your outerwear, and I’ll fetch you a bit of tea.”

The warm, cozy living room was a stark contrast to the icy night. Lyrica quickly removed her coat, boots, scarf, and mittens, hanging them neatly in an alcove near the door. Padding in thick socks through the inviting space, she entered the kitchen, which had been painted a cheerful yellow. Maeve was already bustling around, pouring tea into a delicate cup.

“Please, sit.” Maeve motioned toward a small wooden table in the breakfast alcove. “I’ll s toke the fire.”

Lyrica settled into one of the chairs, wrapping her hands around the steaming mug Maeve placed in front of her. The wild berry tea was fragrant and sweet, its warmth seeping into her frozen fingers and soothing her aching lips. Maeve moved to the fireplace that bisected the living room and kitchen, adding logs with practiced ease. The crackling flames sent waves of heat into the room, instantly banishing the wors t of the chill.

“Thank you,” Lyrica murmured, sipping the tea. The warmth spread through her, chasing away the deep cold that had settle d in her bones.

“Of course.” Maeve poured herself a cup before joining Lyrica at the table. Tonight, Maeve wore a floor-length gown patterned with delicate blue flowers, its waist cinched just so. Her twin braids added a youthful softness to her face, which had pinkened from the heat of the fire. “Did they free the poor lass yet?” Concern c oated her tone.

The vision of the poor victim made Lyrica’s heart hurt. “Not yet. She’s still frozen to the ground,” Lyrica replied, her teeth still chattering slightly. The tingling in her feet became painful as warmth began to return to them.

Maeve shook her head, her brow furrowing. “Ah, what a dreadful thing. Who could’ve gone and done this?”

“I don’t know,” Lyrica admitted, gripping the mug tighter. “It doesn’t make sense. No one knows how she got here.”

The two sat in contemplative silence for a moment. Lyrica glanced around the sparkling clean kitchen, gathering her thoughts. “Actually, I was hoping to get a chance to speak wi th you anyway.”

“Oh?” Maeve tilted her head . “What about?”

Lyrica hesitated, shifting uncomfortably in her chair. “I was…worr ied about you.”

“Worried about me?” Maeve asked, her eyebrows lifting. “Why? Sure, I’m grand altogether. ’Tis a fine little cottage in a lovely, snowy place. Believe it or not, I’ve a great fondness for the snow. Though, truth be told, I’d take the rain any day.”

Lyrica managed a faint smile. There was something starkly beautiful about these frozen mountains. Still, she pressed on, trying to find the right words. “It seems like Ralstad doesn’t give you much freedom, and…I’m worri ed about that.”

Maeve scrunched up her nose. “Ah, there’s nothing to be fretting over. I’m happy as can be. Not everyone’s got the itch to wander the wide wo rld, you know.”

“No, but don’t you want your freedom?” Lyrica asked cautiously. She shifted in her chair again, unsure how to broach the subject without c ausing offense.

Maeve shrugged, taking another sip of tea. “None of us truly has freedom, you know. We’re all tied to somethin’—be it kin, commu nity, or duty.”

“What about love?” Lyric a asked softly.

Maeve’s gaze grew distant, and she nodded thoughtfully. “Ah, love holds us fast as well. Maybe more than anythin’ else, it does.”

Lyrica frowned, uncertain if Maeve truly understood her point. Did Maeve even realize she had a choice? That she didn’t have to stay with Ralstad simply because of a centuries-old deal her father had made? Lyrica leaned forward, lowering her voice. “He just…he seems like the kind of male who’d hurt you if you disappointed him. I need to ask.”

Maeve’s eyes widened. “Ralstad doesn’t harm me, so don’t be puttin’ that notion in your head.”

“Are you sure?” Lyrica pressed gently, her concern deepening. “What about the boot warmers? You wanted them and he said no. Who would keep you from a necess ity like that?”

Before Maeve could answer, the door swung open. Ralstad stepped inside, his broad shoulders filling the frame. Maeve stood quickly, setting her cup down. “Would ya like a bit of coffee, then?” she asked, mov ing toward him.

He shrugged off his outerwear, hanging it in the alcove, and stepped toward her. “I’d love som e,” he replied.

“Sure, aren’t ya glad we stocked up earlier?” Maeve hurried to pour coffee from a pot warmin g on the stove.

Tension spiraled through Lyrica as Ralstad glanced her way. His presence dominated the room, the earlier warmth suddenly fe eling stifling.

“Did they free the woman?” Lyrica asked, breaki ng the silence.

Ralstad accepted the mug from Maeve, his dark eyes sharp. “They’re working on it. They need the UTV to transport her back to the med ical facility.”

Lyrica finished her tea and stood. “Did you recognize her?”

“No,” Ralstad said firmly. “I’ve never seen her before.” His gaze flicked to Maeve. “It’s late. You shoul d be sleeping.”

Maeve flushed, glancing at Lyrica. “We’ve a guest, we do.”

“I need to be going anyway,” Lyrica interjected quickly, moving to the alcove to put on her boots and coat. She zipped her jacket with shaking fingers, pulling on her mittens. “Ralstad? You have Kurjan hearing and senses. Did you notice anything odd? Hear anything?” Was it possible he could’ve missed the woman being dumped on his property? She had a feeling he di dn’t miss much.

“No,” Ralstad answered, taking a big drink of his coffee. “I have no idea where she came from.”

Lyrica wished she could smell lies. Did Ralstad bring her in? “I noticed a snowmobile to the side of your house.” Not many in the nation had their own snowmobiles yet. Vero had yet to bring a bunch in. “It’s odd to ha ve one, right?”

Ralstad shrugged, his focus solely on her across the short distance. “I requested one since we li ve so far out.”

A likely story, but if someone was snowmobiling in victims somehow, that narrowed the suspect list significantly. Lyrica forced a smile. “Maeve, would you like to go on a walk tomorrow? I was hoping to meet some of the othe r new couples.”

“No,” Ralstad said flatly. “Maeve is other wise occupied.”

Maeve hesitated, looking from him to Lyrica. “I can’t tomorrow, but maybe later in the week, aye?”

Lyrica ignored the bristling Kurjan male. “That would be great. How about Tuesday?”

“Ah, sure, I’ll need to have a look at me schedule,” Mae ve said softly.

Ralston’s lips pressed into a thin line, his eyes darkening to a deeper purple.

The air grew heavier, and Lyrica decided not to push further. “Thank you for the tea, Maeve. We ’ll talk soon.”

Without waiting for a response, she stepped outside and pulled the door shut behind her. The biting cold stung her face, offering a sharp relief from the oppressive tension lingering inside the cottage. She climbed into the UTV, fired up the engine, and let her thoughts churn. Something felt deeply wrong, and she intended to uncover exactly what.