Page 15

ORION

“I don’t know why you’re even surprised,” Xander’s voice followed me as I stormed into the living room.

“He’s a stupid prick.” I shot back.

We’d been arguing for the better part of an hour and I was tired of it.

The room was warm—cozy, even—but it did nothing to settle the storm inside me. A fire roared in the stone hearth, flickering light stretching shadows across the polished wood. The whole space felt infuriatingly peaceful, completely at odds with the tension buzzing in my veins.

“You’re letting your emotions cloud your judgment again,” Xander said, his tone maddeningly calm. “He’ll make sure it gets done.”

“And blow everything up while he’s at it?” I spun to face him. “This was my case. I won’t let him beat me like this.”

Xander raised a brow. “He’s doing it because it needs to be done. You’re too distracted.”

He had no idea what he was talking about. I’d tracked the spider daema for months across the States before finally finding her in Virginia. It wasn’t my fault she’d brought an entourage and started attacking civilians.

A sharp pain lanced through my chest. The confusion in Eve’s eyes when I pushed her away was haunting me. Xander was right—she was safer not knowing the truth. Better to let her believe it had all been a nightmare. But part of me wondered if I’d made the wrong decision.

I glanced at Xander, frustration prickling under my skin. He stood straight-backed and composed, his blond hair perfectly in place. He was usually the one in my corner, but now, it felt like he was waiting to twist the knife deeper.

Something between us was shifting. Maybe that was my fault. But Xander’s pacifist crap wasn’t going to cut it anymore.

“I’m going after him,” I said, the decision solidifying as I spoke.

Xander’s eyes narrowed. “No, Orion. Ragnar has it under control.”

“Control?” I barked a laugh, already moving for the hallway. “Since when?”

He grabbed my arm, halting me mid-stride. “You’re overreacting.”

I shrugged him off. “So what? He’s out there acting on impulse, like always—”

A sudden crash echoed from the kitchen, making us both flinch. I looked at Xander. We both moved at once.

I skidded to a halt in the doorway behind my brother. The dining table had been obliterated—wood and metal splintered across the floor.

Ragnar stood in the wreckage, his frame heaving. Smoke curled from his jacket. Soot and grime streaked his red hair like war paint. He looked like he’d walked out of Hell—and brought it back with him.

“Ragnar, you prick,” I snapped, shoving past Xander. “Ever heard of a fucking door?”

I was ready to unload on him—until he turned, his arms full of someone—and the words died on my tongue.

“Eve!” Her name ripped from my throat as I lunged forward. “What the fuck did you do?”

I didn’t hear his reply. My eyes locked on her. She was limp. Pale. Bloodied. Her chest barely moved. She looked like death was already reaching for her.

“Give her to me.”

I didn’t wait. I tore her from Ragnar’s arms, ignoring his resistance. She wasn’t his to hold.

Xander stepped aside as I carried her out of the kitchen. The shattered wood crunched under my boots, their voices blurring behind me. All I could hear was her faint, shallow breath. My chest caved in.

Magic surged inside me—not gentle, not passive. It screamed. Every thread of who I was demanded that I save her—that losing her would be worse than death.

I kicked the door open to my bedroom, but my movements were smooth as I crossed the threshold. I laid her down on the bed, propping her head up to check her airway. My hands shook as I brushed the damp strands of hair from her face.

“You’re still alive,” I whispered, fingers lingering on her cold skin as I scanned her body for injuries.

The gash in her leg caught my eye—raw, jagged, glistening with blood. I recoiled, stomach twisting. How long had she been suffering like this?

I pressed one hand to her throat, the other to her leg.

Magic surged forward like a dam breaking. It overwhelmed me—more than instinct, more than command. It moved with purpose, an awareness that pulsed in sync with my own. It knew her. Recognized her very essence.

This wasn’t like before. It didn’t just respond—it clung to her, wrapping itself around her like it belonged there. Each flare of heat felt like a plea.

Behind me, Ragnar paced, the floorboards groaning under his boots. Xander stood motionless near the door, arms crossed, jaw tight.

“For fuck’s sake, Orion,” Ragnar snapped. “Wake her up already. We don’t have all night.”

His voice lit a fuse in my chest.

“What the fuck did you do to her?”

If he’s responsible—if he let this happen—I’d kill him. Brother or not.

Ragnar froze mid-step, his red eyes narrowing. “Don’t you fucking dare blame me,” he said, his voice sharp, every word a threat. “The hidey-hole that piece-of-shit daema crawled into was burning to the ground.”

“Ragnar,” Xander cut in, voice cool. “Start from the beginning.”

I scoffed bitterly. “Isn’t it obvious?” I turned to Xander. “Ragnar probably torched the place with her still inside.”

“You’re such a dumb cunt.” Ragnar growled. “That house was already on fire when I got there.”

I scoffed again, but Xander frowned. “How?”

“The woods were on fire. I went in to check for Arachnia. Found her,”—he gestured at Eve—“under a seared spider corpse. Pile of dead bodies. Place was a fucking grave.”

Xander’s jaw clenched. “That doesn’t make sense. Why was she there?”

“How the hell should I know!” Ragnar snapped. His molten eyes burned through us. “Who the fuck is she? What’s she doing tangled up with demons? Better yet—let’s wake the bitch up and ask her ourselves.”

That was it.

I saw red. My body moved before I could think. I stormed toward him, ready to wipe that prideful look off his face.

“Orion!” Xander’s voice cracked like a whip, stepping between us. “This isn’t helping. Ragnar, take a breather. Orion—focus on her.”

Grinding my jaw, I stepped back.

I turned to her again, brushing soot from her face, smoothing her hair. Her breathing was steadier, but still too shallow. I ran my hand gently over her cheek, grounding myself in the moment.

The guilt burned hotter than fire.

I should’ve told her everything. Should’ve let her in. Instead, I lied. Pushed her away. Left her vulnerable. Maybe this wouldn’t have happened if I hadn’t—

I swallowed hard.

Even unconscious, she was beautiful. Soft, pale, bruised. So breakable. So real. I wanted her to open those hazel eyes and use that sharp tongue to put me in my place.

Then her breathing shifted.

Her chest lifted sharply; her lungs sputtering. She coughed, her head jerking back, gasping for air as her eyes flew open. Relief tore through me like lightning.

“You’re okay,” I whispered. “Just breathe.”

She blinked, wild-eyed, trying to piece together the chaos. Panic danced behind her lashes, and I pressed a hand to her shoulder. “It’s alright,” I murmured. “You’re safe.”

“Fucking finally,” Ragnar barked, stepping in and nearly shoving me aside. “What the fuck were you doing in that house?”

A calm settled over me. Cold. Dangerous.

I rose to my full height, letting the fury take over.

And then I punched him in the face.