Page 16

EVE

I had no idea what the fuck was going on. One second I was choking on smoke, searing heat pressing against my skin—then I jolted awake.

In an unfamiliar room.

Surrounded by men.

One of whom was hurling himself at another like it was some testosterone-fueled death match.

I blinked, trying to make sense of the chaos. Orion’s green eyes burned with fury as his fist cracked against the other man’s jaw. The redhead stumbled, spat blood, then slammed Orion into the wall with enough force to make the wood groan.

The silver-haired man I’d met earlier grabbed Orion and yanked him back with ease. It was like watching a glacier move—slow, solid, unstoppable.

“Enough,” he said, calm but commanding. The kind of voice that made people listen.

Orion jerked out of his grip but didn’t advance again.

I looked between them, my gaze snagging on the man I’d not met.

Broad-shouldered and built like a mountain, he was covered in ash and radiating heat.

He stepped forward, shaking off tension, dust drifting from his charred leather jacket.

Red hair framed a sharp face. His amber eyes tracked Orion like a predator.

I pressed back against the headboard, my throat raw, every breath scraping like sandpaper.

“What’s going on?”

Orion finally looked at me. The fury in his posture drained, his shoulders softening, his gaze steady and protective. Too gentle for the storm I’d woken into.

But when he stepped toward me, I flinched.

He paused, lifting his hands in surrender. I wasn’t scared exactly… just wary. The last time I saw him, he turned me away without a second thought. Now he was staring at me like he was full of unwelcome apologies.

“How are you feeling?” he asked carefully.

I glanced between him and the other men. How was I feeling? Confused, exhausted… like I didn’t quite belong in my own skin.

“I… I don’t know,” I whispered.

My eyes slipped to the redhead. He wasn’t looking at me—only at Orion. But I remembered the fire. He’d pulled me out. Carried me. I ran my hands over my arms, my throat. Nothing hurt. No burns. No smoke damage. That should’ve landed me in the ICU.

“How am I alive?” I breathed.

Orion turned to the others with a stern look. Without a word, they left. The mountain of a man hesitated, but the tall one hauled him out with a grip like stone. The door clicked shut.

“Eve.”

His voice cut through the storm in my head. Even with a bruise blooming across his cheek, he looked devastatingly good. Tousled brown hair, gold catching in the dim light. Eyes locked on me like I was something worth guarding.

If this were a simpler life, he’d be the stranger in a coffee shop I couldn’t stop staring at. The one who might just look back. But in this life? He was full of secrets and lies, and I didn’t know if I could trust him as far as I could throw him.

“Can I sit?” he asked, motioning to the edge of the bed.

I hugged my knees and nodded, not knowing what else to do. He lowered himself carefully, like I might shatter with the slightest movement.

It was way too late for that.

“How did I get here? Who are they?”

He held my gaze, some of the tension in his body ebbing. “You met Xander this morning. Ragnar brought you here. I healed you.”

I stared. “You healed me?”

“It’s… complicated.”

“Of course it is,” I muttered.

Something cracked in his expression. The hard exterior slipped, revealing something raw and wrecked. “I’m sorry about this morning. Truly, I shouldn’t have turned you away like that, I fucked up and I’ll apologize for that as long as I breathe but I need you to tell me what happened tonight.”

I stared at his face, trying to find the lie that I’d seen this morning, but he seemed earnest. “Please. I need to know so I can help you. I won’t turn you away again.”

Could I trust him? I didn’t know. But I couldn’t survive this alone.

“No more lying,” I said, part plea, part demand.

His jaw flexed. He nodded once, solemn.

“No more lying.”

The atmosphere in the living room was thicker than wet cement.

Rain drummed against the roof, amplifying the tension between the three men and me.

Ragnar stood by the window, arms crossed, fury radiating off him in waves. Across from him, Xander sat in a leather armchair, calm but watchful, eyes like cut glass.

Orion’s hand settled lightly on my lower back.

“You’re okay,” he murmured. The words sounded like he was trying to convince himself. “You’re safe here.”

It didn’t feel that way with Ragnar’s burning glare tracking me the moment we walked in.

His eyes raked over me, all sharp intensity and zero warmth.

My steps faltered, but Orion kept guiding me toward an empty armchair near the fire.

He sat on the love seat opposite Xander, but Ragnar didn’t move to join us.

“Let’s get this over with,” he growled. “What were you doing at that house?”

I flinched at his tone, heat rising in my chest. I don’t know what it was about his expression that made me feel so defensive, but I’d been through enough the last few days and I was done being judged by people who didn’t know me.

“What do you mean, ‘what was I doing?’ That was my house.”

Ragnar’s scowl faltered for a breath before snapping back into place.

Xander leaned forward. “That was your house?”

I nodded, grateful for the shift in focus. “It’s where I grew up. I lived there until I was seven—I hadn’t been back since.”

Ragnar scoffed. “You just happened to return the same night we tracked an upper-level daema there?”

The way he said it felt like an accusation.

“What’s a daema? Do you mean the spider thing?”

He laughed, cold and cutting. “Cut the clueless act. What are you hiding?”

“Ragnar,” Orion snapped, his voice suddenly lethal. “Talk to her like that again, and I’ll break your fucking skull.”

I blinked, startled by the shift. A few hours ago, he’d pushed me away. Now he was defending me?

“You can’t be serious,” Ragnar snarled.

“Why did you go to the house?” Xander asked, steering things back on track.

I exhaled. “After Orion turned me away,”—I didn’t miss the way he flinched—“I went to see a psychic. She said I’d find answers in my childhood home.”

Ragnar’s eyes narrowed in disbelief.

“Look, I know how it sounds, but I’d just been attacked and no one would help me! What else was I supposed to do?”

“Not walk into a spider’s nest,” Ragnar snapped.

Something inside me snapped. I shot to my feet.

“I didn’t know there’d be a creature in there!

I’ve been attacked three times in two days.

I almost died twice. And still, no one’s told me what the hell is going on!

” Orion got to his feet and moved toward me, but I stepped back.

“Don’t touch me!” His hand dropped, his jaw tightening—but he didn’t argue.

Didn’t reach again. “Someone start talking, or I’m walking out of here right now! ”

“Alright,” Xander said. “Let’s all sit down.”

Orion dropped back into his seat with resignation. Ragnar turned his back, but didn’t leave. I stayed standing for a beat longer, still shaking, before lowering myself again.

“I should’ve told you the truth from the beginning,” Orion’s voice was solemn. “I’m sorry for the pain and fear that it caused. The creature that attacked you is called a daema. The one at your house was more dangerous than the one at the diner.”

“Okay… but what is a daema? Like, a demon or something?”

“Sort of,” Orion said. “They’re a race from another world. Some slipped through the Divide into this one.”

My head spun. “So… I was attacked by demons from another planet?”

“Another realm,” he corrected gently, a faint smile tugging at his lips.

I narrowed my eyes. “Be serious.”

“I am.”

Ragnar groaned. “This is a waste of time.”

I ignored him. “So… you’re not detectives.”

Orion smiled faintly. “No. We hunt daema.”

I swallowed. “Okay. Let’s say I believe you. But how did I survive that fire? Why am I not dead?”

“I healed you,” Orion said simply. “With magic.”

“This is insane.”

Ragnar scoffed. “No, what’s insane is that you expect us to believe you just happened to survive in the middle of a daema’s lair. How did you start the fire?”

“I didn’t start the fire,” I snapped. “I don’t know what happened.”

Ragnar leaned in, eyes blazing.

“You’re hiding something.”

“I. Didn’t. Start. The. Fire,” I bit out.

“Un-fucking-believable,” Ragnar growled, storming from the room and slamming the door.

Xander sighed, rising. “Orion, take her home. I’ll talk to him.”

“Wait—” But Xander was already gone.

I turned—Orion was already on his feet. His green eyes searched mine, guilt written across every line of his face.

“I’m still mad at you,” I muttered.

“I deserve that.”

I bit my lip, trying to make sense of it all. But one thing was clear—I was done standing still.

“And I still have questions,” I said, my voice firmer.

Orion extended his hand. His smile was faint but real.

“I’d be worried if you didn’t.”