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The layout was open-concept and luxury modern, with vaulted ceilings and dark-stained beams arching high above us.

To the left, a plush ivory wraparound couch faced a massive flat screen mounted above a sleek black fireplace.

Adjacent to it sat two game tables—pool and shuffleboard—both custom-built in matte black with natural wood finishes.

The kitchen lined the back wall, all white oak and matte black accents, anchored by a large island and barstools perfect for late-night snacks or post-swim breakfasts.

There were three bathrooms in total: one just off the main living space, another attached to the single bedroom, and the third, a beautiful, enclosed outdoor garden shower.

Cade stretched with a satisfied groan and turned to his brother. “You wanna shower in here? I’ll take the outside one.”

“Doesn’t matter,” Ryder replied, bending beside me to untie his sneakers. I slipped mine off too, lining them neatly near the shoe bench.

We all headed into the bedroom to grab clean clothing.

I made a pit stop and dropped my phone and Ryder’s jacket onto the bed before joining them.

The closet off to the side was spacious, always fully stocked.

This had been our go-to since middle school, between games, parties, and everything else.

The boys moved with familiar ease, pulling open drawers and grabbing changes of clothes like muscle memory.

Cade snagged a Crowsfell tee and sweatpants.

Ryder pulled out a charcoal shirt, matching flannel joggers, and a fresh pair of socks and drawers.

There wasn’t any small talk. Only quiet, shared glances and the comfort of people who’d done this a hundred times before.

Cade nudged me with his elbow when they were on their way out. “Closet’s all yours, Little Sanj.”

I smiled faintly as they disappeared.

Once they were gone, I crossed to my usual drawer and opened it.

The grin came instantly. My mom had come over and swapped out more of my summer things.

Right on top was my favorite fall set, soft ribbed pajamas printed with pumpkins and little dancing Snoopys, folded so perfectly it made my chest ache.

I couldn’t wait to see her and Dad. Sometimes, no matter how old you are, you just need your parents.

I scooped everything I needed into my arms, pressing the top to my chin so nothing slipped as I walked toward the bathroom. I was ready to wash off the day and finally breathe without the weight of someone watching me do it.

The hot water helped.

I scrubbed every layer of the day from my skin, let the steam ease the tightness in my shoulders, and closed my eyes for longer than I probably should have.

For the first time in hours, I felt like I had a moment that belonged only to me.

When I finally stepped out of the bathroom, towel-drying my face with one hand, my toothbrush tucked away and hair twisted into a lazy top bun, the rest of the world felt quieter.

I padded through the bedroom, the electric fire crackling in the corner adding another familiar comfort I hadn’t realized I’d missed.

Ryder and Cade would shower and crash like always, staking their claim on the oversized wraparound couch.

The bed had always been mine. Even after various remodels over the years and sleek upgrades, stone finishes, underlit shelving, and a ridiculously plush rug that felt like walking on clouds.

I crossed the room slowly, eyes drifting to the wide windows along the far wall.

They looked out onto the trees behind the Voss estate—tall, silent, unmoving.

Nothing stirred out there. No lights. No signs of life.

I reached for the cord on the long drapes and tugged them closed.

It wasn’t quite fear that drove my actions, but unease.

I knew no Huntsmen were lurking in Ryder’s backyard, but something inside me still bristled like I was being watched.

I crossed back through the room and paused at the bedroom door, fingers brushing the frame.

For a moment, I considered leaving it wide open in case Ryder or Cade needed something or wanted to talk, but that felt presumptuous.

Maybe they’d want a second to decompress.

To just be with each other. I cracked the door instead. A quiet compromise.

I shuffled to the bed and flopped down on my stomach with a low sigh. The plush mattress absorbed me instantly. After a minute, I rolled onto my side and reached for my phone. A few notifications lit the screen.

One from Cloe Tagging me in our group chat.

Cici

@Sanj you okay? Text if you need anything.

Then Ari.

ARI

I know you’re safe with them, but still checking in. Love you!!

A tired smile tugged at the corners of my lips. I wasn’t going to dump any more of the Hunt stuff on them tonight. I would fill them in the next morning.

All good here. How are you guys doing?

It didn’t take long for Cloe to reply.

Cici

Currently deep in the trenches of this project. Considering academic emancipation.

I huffed out a quiet laugh.

ARI

About to crash. Just finished that book I was telling you about with the twin timelines and the creepy boarding school. The ending was better than I expected.

My smile faded a little.

I didn’t tell her the guys had been reading that same book earlier, specifically the smuttiest passage. That moment was still too fresh, and I wasn’t ready to relive the secondhand embarrassment or pass it along to Ari.

There wasn’t anything new from Roxxi, but a photo—her grandmother, in full glamor mode: silk pajamas, hair in curlers, a full fan of playing cards in one hand and a drink sparkling like liquid diamonds in the other.

I didn’t have to ask to know it was mostly vodka.

We went back and forth for a while, then I let the phone rest on my stomach and stared at the ceiling, toying with my half of the best-friend necklace.

One minute, I was debating whether to get up and grab a bottle of water from the mini fridge in the corner, replaying the day in my head like maybe it would make more sense on the thousandth run-through. Next, I was blinking slowly into the dark.

The soft hum of the electric fireplace filled the silence, its glow casting flickering shadows across the ceiling like dancing ghosts.

A spare fleece blanket was draped over me.

It smelled faintly of fabric softener. My mouth was bone dry, my hair had slipped free from its bun, and the heaviness in my limbs told me the remaining soreness I’d been bracing for had finally arrived.

I shifted, momentarily disoriented. I was more tired than I realized. I never slept this much.

I turned my head toward the door, still cracked just like I’d left it.

Sitting up, I ran my hand over the blanket and mattress, trying to find my phone.

Frowning, I glanced toward the nightstand.

I spotted it plugged into a charging cable.

Someone must’ve moved it. Probably Ryder, knowing how paranoid he was about me sleeping with electronics balanced on top of me like a human charger.

I scooted over, grabbing it with one hand while the other pulled the blanket tighter around me.

12:42.

I slept longer than I thought, but not long at all.

Swinging my legs off the bed, I crossed the room slowly, making my way to the mini fridge.

I cracked open a bottle of Fiji and downed nearly half in one go.

The water was cold and heavenly against my throat.

I padded back to the bed, slipping under the blanket again and turning my phone to night mode to dull the glare.

A few more messages had rolled into the guys’ group chat, mostly Cade and Xander bickering over a fantasy league trade, Nick chiming in with a meme that barely made sense.

I swear he lived in his own world half the time.

Rook was still silent, but it wasn’t unusual for him to go dark.

Nothing new from the girls.

Layla text: Let’s talk soon.

A few minutes after that, Ashton had texted again.

Goodnight. Miss you.

I stared at Ashton’s message for a second longer before exiting out and cursing myself for not turning off our read receipts.

Idiot.

I was halfway to setting the phone aside when the urge hit. Call it a hunch or a pit in my stomach. I tapped back to see if my Huntsman had sent anything else. Sure enough, they had.

I almost ignored it.

I was going to ignore it.

I’d gotten good at pretending these messages didn’t make my skin crawl, but before I could expand the thread, my eyes caught on two words sitting right there in the preview.

Pool house.

The blanket suddenly felt too warm. Too heavy.

I clutched the phone tighter, pulse kicking up into that familiar, sickening rhythm of dread.

They knew where I was. That wasn’t a general "you're in town.

" They knew exactly where I was. I swallowed hard and forced myself to breathe.

Deep. Steady. I mentally called a meeting of the minds before I flew off the handle.

The side of me that wore metaphorical glasses and believed in logic, facts, and psychology textbooks told me this wasn’t something to spiral over.

It wasn’t hard to figure out I’d be home this weekend.

The far more reactive, slightly unhinged counterpart pointed out the obvious.

Sure. Maybe they knew I had come home with the Voss brothers.

How the hell would they know I was in the damn pool house right now?

Unless it wasn’t a guess.

Against every shred of better judgment I had left, I tapped the message, bracing for static, a scream, or something cursed straight out of a horror movie. All I found were two texts, and both were worse than any of those things.

1031

Beautiful home. Nice view too.

And below it:

1031

You’re safe for now. But what about when you close your eyes again? You can’t stay awake forever.