Page 73

I sat there completely still, heart jackhammering beneath my ribs while my brain scrambled, some thoughts rational, others far-fetched scenarios. My eyes darted around the room, landing on every corner, every shadow, every possible hiding spot where a Huntsman-shaped nightmare could be waiting.

“Breathe. Just breathe,” I whispered to myself, clutching the blanket tighter like it was body armor.

As if it could actually shield me from everything.

I could’ve cried right then, full-on panic, sobbed.

I didn’t know what I was supposed to do.

Creep out into the living room like I was six again, dragging my blanket and whispering to Ryder or Cade to check the closet?

A soft thud echoed from somewhere beyond the bedroom, making me jump.

My breath caught, lungs suspended in place as I listened.

All I got was silence. Seconds ticked by like hours.

I was moments away from flinging open the bedroom door and sprinting through the Voss backyard and down their driveway to my house, demanding Ryder and Cade wake the hell up and run too.

But that would be top-tier idiotic. Yes, let me run outside, barefoot and unarmed in the middle of the night, where a stalker probably is.

Genius, Sanj.

Absolutely genius.

Just as my pulse was reaching DEFCON 1, I heard a snicker I could recognize anywhere.

Cade.

I nearly had a full-body stroke from the relief that hit me.

My muscles sagged, but the adrenaline didn’t ebb.

My heart was still pounding, and the texts didn’t magically disappear.

Someone still knew exactly where I was. That wasn’t something I could ignore.

I moved to slide out of bed quietly, my feet brushing the floor.

I caught the low hum of voices beyond the cracked door.

I stopped, hyper-aware of how sound was carried in the pool house.

Ryder’s voice was low, too soft to make out clearly.

Then Cade said something in response, and Ryder replied again, quieter now. Still, I caught one word. Ellie. What the hell were they talking about her for? I leaned a little closer to the door, careful not to let the hinges creak. Now I wasn’t just anxious. I was curious and anxious.

Worst combination ever.

I didn’t want to waltz out there and make a scene, but there was no way I was falling back asleep. Not after that text, and my pulse still jittering like I’d mainlined caffeine and fear. I reached for my phone again, hesitating for just a second before typing.

Are you up?

As if I didn’t already know.

A second later, I heard his phone go off. Silence followed, and my message turned read . I climbed back into bed, staring at the screen with irrational irritation swelling beneath the nerves crawling across my chest. Say something.

Another minute passed. Then, the door eased open, and Ryder stepped inside.

At some point, he either abandoned his shirt or never put it on because he was most definitely without one.

The rising panic I’d just been drowning in stuttered, scrambled, and rewired into something completely different.

It wasn’t just his body, though God, that was its own kind of distraction.

It was the way he moved. He owned the space by simply existing inside it.

His tattoos stood out against the firelight, art I’d seen a hundred times before, along with a few new pieces.

His right arm was sleeved, the most striking part a portrait of a fallen angel inked along his upper arm. Wings were damaged and half-folded, head bowed low. The detail was so precise, it looked like the feathers might shift if I touched them.

The piece had always felt heavy. His left arm was more abstract. Broken chains spiraled from his shoulder, the links jagged and fragmented. Beneath them, a serpent coiled tightly around a dagger.

That one, I understood.

Behind his right ear, I caught a glimpse of the tattoo I’d always assumed was for Crowsfell: a crow perched atop a skull, sharp and minimal. It matched the football team’s emblem enough to pass.

“I didn’t mean to wake you,” I said quickly, even though we both knew he hadn’t been asleep.

The door clicked softly as it shut behind him. “You didn’t.”

“I couldn’t sleep. 1031 texted again.”

He walked over and held his hand out. I gave him my phone, and he read the messages in silence. He went to the nightstand and set the phone down gently, like it might explode if handled too roughly. Then he turned and pulled the comforter back with one hand.

“Come here.”

I frowned slightly, but scooted back, tucking myself against the headboard. Ryder slipped into the bed beside me. He pulled the covers up over both of us, then lifted his arm. That was all the invitation I needed. I shifted toward him, and his arm came around my shoulders, pulling me into his side.

“Are you okay?”

I nodded. “I just… didn’t want to be alone.”

“You’re never alone,” he murmured.

“I know that, but it still freaks me out, Rye.”

“Your Huntsman won’t be winning the Hunt this year. I can promise you that, Sass. You don’t have to be afraid. Nothing’s going to hurt you, baby.”

I leaned in, resting my head against his chest. The steady rise and fall beneath my cheek slowed the panic better than anything else could. I absentmindedly toyed with his half of the necklace we shared, tracing around where it rested on his chest.

“How do they know I’m in here?”

“They’re guessing. They know we’re home for the weekend and this is where we always stay. It wouldn’t be hard to assume you’d be here tonight.”

Rational Sanj, the voice that had been screaming logic into my ear earlier, nodded in agreement.

It made sense.

It should’ve made me feel better.

Ryder’s hand moved slowly, his fingers tracing gentle patterns along my upper arm. Then he pressed a kiss to the top of my head. The action seeped straight into my chest, like it belonged there.

“Talk to me,” I murmured, “Please.”

“Remember Siesta Key?” he asked after a beat, his voice threading with something softer. “The second night, when the power went out because Rook tried to ‘fix’ the AC to blow colder?”

A laugh escaped me. “God, yes. And we all ended up piled in the living room with flashlights and melting popsicles.”

He smiled against my temple.

“I also remember Nick opened every freaking window for nature vibes like we were in Jurassic Park, which I still think existed, mind you.”

“And Xander tried to tell a ghost story to scare you, but you fell asleep before he even got to the twist.”

I grinned, remembering it all vividly now.

“You were curled up next to me,” he continued, quieter now. “Wearing that oversized Boondocks shirt you stole from Cade, with marshmallow fluff on your cheek.”

I blinked, startled by the detail.

“You always fall asleep first,” he added, brushing a strand of hair behind my ear. “That night…I hardly slept at all. I couldn’t with you beside me like that. You looked so damn peaceful, Sass. And I remember thinking, right then, I could sit and watch over you like that for the rest of my life.”

I wasn’t sure why that made me so emotional.

Maybe it was the look in his eyes. Maybe it was the way his voice wrapped around the words like a vow. Or maybe it was just him. He’d always been by my side. Even when I didn’t deserve him. Even when I pushed him away.

“I’ve really missed you,” slipped out before I could stop it.

The silence that followed stretched between heartbeats and memories.

Ryder didn’t move. He stared at the ceiling, his expression unreadable in the soft flicker of fireplace light.

His bare chest rose and fell, steady. His arm stayed around me, holding me close.

Finally, he spoke. It was so quiet and certain, it made my chest ache.

“Not anywhere near as much as I’ve been missing you.”

I shifted closer, snuggling into his side until there was no space left between us.

My leg brushed his, my hand rested against his ribs, and I tucked my head beneath his chin.

It was as close as I could get without climbing on top of him.

His body curved around mine like instinct.

As if this was always where I was meant to be.

“Do you regret what happened between us at the quarry?”

I didn’t pretend not to know what he meant. We danced around it long enough.

That freaking kiss.

Even now, I could still feel the heat of it, the stunned silence that followed for half a second before he took over.

I swallowed. “I… no.” And then, because I had zero self-preservation, I kept going. “You’re a good kisser.”

He laughed quietly and low, not surprised that I said it, but more amused. My cheeks flushed. I buried my face in his shoulder. “Why do I talk?”

He looked down at me with a look that was steady, patient, and dangerous in its own way. I adjusted and stared up at the ceiling, the memory tugging at the edges of my mind. It had started as a dumb social media challenge. Pretend to kiss your best friend and see how they react.

We never even made it to the pretending.

I told Roxxi I wasn’t going to do it, that I’d chicken out for sure.

She dared me anyway, like the redheaded chaos demon she was.

Two days later, she bombed her own challenge, telling me Xander looked at her like a sister and practically flung her off the couch when she leaned in.

He didn’t speak to her for a solid hour afterward.

Mine happened at the quarry we always drove out to on late-night car rides.

Just us, sitting in his truck at 2:30 in the morning.

The sky was blanketed in stars, soft rain tapping against the windshield.

The world felt hushed, and that was one of the many reasons I loved that place.

I kissed him once, then told him about the challenge, attempting to laugh it off.

He took my face in his hands so gently I forgot how to breathe—and kissed me again.

Deeply. Technically, we kissed three times. One with me straddling him.

After he drove me home, we said goodnight like what we’d done hadn’t changed everything between us.

The second I got to my room, I unraveled.

The rest was history, and me making dumbass choices.

It felt like forever ago, and also like it had happened yesterday.

Now, here we were. His arm around me, that same gravity pulling me in, like it always had.

Unspoken didn’t mean forgotten.

“You want to know what that kiss was like for me?” he asked, voice low and rough.

I nodded against him.

“You were laughing. Telling me about that stupid challenge…” He paused.

“All I could think about was how fucking beautiful you looked with stars in your eyes. So I kissed you again,” he said simply, like it was the most natural thing in the world.

“And for the first time, everything made sense. That’s how it was always supposed to be.

” His gaze drifted to the ceiling, as though he could still see that moment painted above us.

“I didn’t want to let you go,” he continued, his voice dropping even lower. “But if I didn’t, I was going to say things I wasn’t supposed to say yet. Do things I wasn’t supposed to do. I’ve kissed other people, but that was the first—and only—kiss that ruined me.”

My eyes burned, my throat tightening around the rush of emotions.

He was so… mine.

The other half of every memory that ever mattered. His name had been stitched into the lining of my heart long before this moment.

“You’re looking at me like you finally get it,” he murmured, gaze dropping to my mouth before flicking back up. His hand lifted, cupping my jaw, thumb gliding softly along my cheekbone. “You’re not gonna stop me this time, are you?”

I shook my head; my voice lost to the roar of my pulse. “No.”

“Good,” he breathed, the word more like a vow than a relief. “Because I have a promise to uphold.”

Then he kissed me, and everything else fell away.