Page 73 of Wraith (Deviant Assassin #1)

Kiera

A nother man dead by my hand; the weight lifts, leaving a hollowness, a strange lightness in my chest. A tremor, almost a hum, vibrates through me, a sharp counterpoint to the adrenaline rush.

The metallic tang of blood still clings to the back of my throat, thick and cloying.

Tonight, though, it's different; a perverse satisfaction mixed with the ever-present fear.

Phoenix closes the antique bookcase, its polished mahogany gleaming under the dim library lights. The double doors burst open—the sound like a gunshot in the sudden silence. Blade fills the doorway, a dark silhouette against the light, his face a mask of barely controlled fury.

Wild trails close behind, leaning heavily on the wall.

Deep crimson blooms across his pale shirt, staining his jeans.

His pallor is stark against the adrenaline coursing through him, a contrast to the blood-soaked chaos they've left behind.

They freeze, taking in the scene: me, blood-soaked, Phoenix's amused expression, and Esther, radiating an unnerving satisfaction.

"Wild—Jesus! What happened to you?" I can barely catch my breath, the adrenaline from ending Zephyr's life clashing brutally with the shock of seeing Wild like this.

The blood on Wild's shoulder is far more troubling than the sticky fluid staining my hands, my boots. His breathing is shallow, ragged, his pallor alarming.

Blade's dark eyes meet mine; a flicker of something beyond anger, beyond the resentment I’ve come to expect. He sees the blood, the sweat, the stark reality of what I've done, and perhaps... something more. Something beneath the rage I've always guarded against.

"He's dead," Blade states, his voice low and certain. Not a question—a recognition.

Wild's gaze sweeps the library, taking in the pristine space above the hidden carnage below.

"Zephyr?"

"In pieces," I confirm, surprised by how steady my voice sounds. "Along with all his lies."

Blade moves toward me, and I see something I've never witnessed before—relief. Pure, unguarded relief flooding his features.

"You did it," he breathes. "You actually fucking did it."

"You took my destined family from me five years ago," Wild says quietly, his eyes fixed on the hidden door Esther used to access her playroom. "But she just took it back."

Phoenix shifts from her perch, studying the three of us with calculating eyes.

"Well, this is certainly more interesting than I expected."

Esther rises from her chair with fluid grace, setting down her teacup. "Kiera has proven herself tonight. Efficient. Ruthless. Precise." Her gaze sweeps over Wild's injuries, then settles on Blade. "I assume Colton met a similar fate?"

"He did," Blade confirms. "Wild and I handled it."

The admission hangs in the air—they worked together. For me. The realization sends warmth spreading through my chest, chasing away the lingering chill from Zephyr's final moments.

"So, you finally learned to play nicely," I observe, letting my gaze move between them. "About time."

Wild grimaces as he straightens. "We had motivation."

"The best kind," Blade agrees, stepping closer until he's within touching distance. "We all got what we needed tonight."

I look at my men—really look at them. Wild, who threw away his badge and career to be here. Blade, who's learned that trust doesn't make him weak. Both of them bloodied and exhausted, but united in purpose.

"You trusted each other," I say softly, the full impact hitting me. "Out there, fighting for us—you actually trusted each other."

"For you," Wild corrects. "We did it for you."

"No," Blade shakes his head, his hand finding my cheek. "We did it for us. All of us."

Esther clears her throat. "As touching as this reunion is, Bennett needs medical attention. Dr. Mikkelson should be here shortly."

"Already called," Phoenix adds, checking her phone. "ETA five minutes."

Wild sways slightly, and both Blade and I move to support him. The three of us form a unit without conscious thought—my shoulder under his arm, Blade's hand steady on his back.

"The playroom?" Blade asks.

"Clean," Esther answers. "My people are thorough."

"And the evidence Zephyr gave up?" Wild's FBI training kicks in even through his exhaustion.

"Recorded and filed," Esther confirms. "Colton's operation dies with him. The remaining cells will be neutralized within the week."

I study her face, seeing the calculating mind behind the grandmother facade.

"You knew. All along, you knew what I was."

"I suspected," she corrects. "But tonight confirmed it. You're exactly what this family needs."

Family. The word settles over us like a promise.

"So, what happens now?" I ask, though part of me already knows.

Wild's arm tightens around me. "Now we stop running."

"Stop hiding," Blade adds.

"Stop pretending we don't belong together," I finish.

Esther's smile is sharp as winter. "Welcome to Umber, Wraith. Try not to break my grandson's heart—or Blade's. They're both surprisingly fragile under all that testosterone."

Phoenix snorts. "Fragile like wolves."

"Exactly my point," Esther replies smoothly. “The east wing is yours tonight.”

The sound of approaching footsteps echoes in the hallway—Dr. Mikkelson arriving.

As Wild is led away for treatment, Blade and I remain in the library, the weight of everything that's changed settling between us.

I catch my reflection in the dark window—blood-splattered, wild-eyed, but somehow more complete than I've felt in years.

My men flank me, their presence grounding me in this moment of transformation.

We've written our future in blood tonight. Used that same blood to write a promise to each other, and I wouldn't change a single drop.