Page 85 of Wraith (Deviant Assassin #1)
Kiera
T he massive oak doors of Esther's mansion swing open before we even reach them, revealing the woman herself in an elegant emerald dress that makes her steel-gray eyes gleam like polished weapons.
She's smaller than I expected for someone who commands such fear and respect, but the aura of power radiating from her is unmistakable.
"My dear children," she says, her voice carrying that same silken steel I remember from our first meeting. "Welcome home."
Home. The word settles strangely in my chest. I've never had a real home—not the kind where you're wanted, where you belong. But walking between Blade and Wild, their presence solid and reassuring on either side of me, something clicks into place.
Wild's hand finds the small of my back, a gentle touch that grounds me. Blade's fingers brush mine as we step across the threshold together. We move as one unit now, no longer the fractured, competing forces we were just weeks ago.
"Esther," I say, offering a slight bow of my head. "Thank you for having us."
Her smile is genuine as her gaze sweeps over the three of us, taking in how we stand together, how naturally we've fallen into sync.
"I had hoped this day would come. You've all exceeded my expectations."
The foyer is breathtaking—marble floors that gleam like mirrors, crystal chandeliers that throw rainbows across cream-colored walls, and fresh white orchids in crystal vases that perfume the air with their delicate scent.
It's elegant without being ostentatious, powerful without being cold. Very much like its owner.
"The others are already in the sunroom," Esther continues, leading us deeper into the mansion. "Phoenix has been beside herself with excitement to properly meet you, Kiera. And the boys..." Her expression softens marginally. "They've been asking for you."
My heart clenches. Cassius and Crue. In all the chaos of the past weeks, they've never been far from my thoughts. Two kids who've seen too much, lost too much, but who somehow still look at me like I matter.
We pass through an archway into a sun-drenched room with floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking manicured gardens.
The space is filled with the low murmur of conversation and the gentle clink of china.
Phoenix sits at a round table set for eight, her dark hair caught up in an elegant twist, her resemblance to Blade unmistakable now that I'm seeing them in the same room.
But it's the two figures beside her that make my breath catch.
"Kiera!" Crue launches himself from his chair, Cassius right behind him. At fifteen and thirteen, they're both taller than when I last saw them, but they're still the same boys who've somehow wormed their way into the heart I thought was too damaged for such things.
I catch them both in a fierce hug, breathing in the scent of soap and teenage boy and something indefinably them. "Hey, troublemakers. Miss me?"
"Every day," Cassius mumbles into my shoulder, his voice cracking slightly. "The school's nice and all, but it's not the same without you."
Crue pulls back to look at me, his dark eyes serious beyond his years.
"You look different. Good different. Like you're not carrying the world on your shoulders anymore."
Smart kid.
I ruffle his hair, noting how he's let it grow out, how both boys look healthier, more relaxed.
"I had some help learning to share the load."
Their gazes shift to Blade and Wild, curiosity and wariness mixing in their expressions. These boys have learned not to trust easily—a lesson life taught them too young.
"Wild!" Cassius grins, moving to hug the man who's spent hours talking with them, who they know and trust. "You look different too. Less... intense."
Wild laughs, returning the hug easily. "That's what happens when you stop fighting what you want, kid."
Crue approaches more cautiously, extending his hand to Blade.
"You must be Blade. Kiera talks about you a lot."
Blade takes the offered hand, his voice gentle in that way I've learned means he's working to control his more protective instincts.
"It's good to finally meet you both. I've heard even more about you."
The formality between them is expected—Blade is still largely a stranger to them, despite being my husband. But I can see the way he's making an effort, the way he's consciously gentling his usually intimidating presence for their sake.
"Are you staying?" Cassius asks suddenly, the question directed at all three of us but his eyes lock on mine. "For real this time?"
The vulnerability in his voice breaks something in my chest. These boys have been passed around, left behind, made to feel expendable. I crouch down to his level, taking his hands in mine.
"We're not going anywhere," I tell him firmly. "The three of us—we're a team now. A family. And you're part of what makes up that family too."
"But," Crue interjects, glancing around the elegant room, "we've been talking to Mr. Tristan and Miss Sable about the school. About maybe going back."
I look up to see two figures I don't recognize but can identify immediately—Sable, with her platinum blonde hair and sharp blue eyes, and Tristan, dark and brooding in a way that suggests danger barely leashed.
They're watching this interaction with interest, their professional focus on the boys evident.
"The boarding school?" I ask, turning my attention back to the boys.
Cassius nods, shuffling his feet. "It's not that we don't want to be with you," he says quickly. "It's just... there are other kids there. Kids our age. And Mr. Tristan teaches history, which is actually pretty cool, and Miss Sable does art therapy and she says I have talent."
My throat tightens. All this time, I've been so focused on protecting them, on keeping them safe, that I never really considered what they might need beyond safety. Friends their own age. Normal teenage experiences. The chance to just be kids.
"You want to go back to school," I say, not a question but an understanding.
"Would that be okay?" Crue asks, his voice small. "We'd come visit all the time. Holidays and weekends and stuff. But maybe we could try being normal for a while?"
Normal. Such a simple word, but one that carries so much weight.
I look up at Blade and Wild, seeing my own thoughts reflected in their faces.
These boys deserve normal. They deserve the chance to make friends, to worry about algebra tests instead of survival, to figure out who they are outside of the trauma that's shaped their young lives.
"Of course that's okay," I tell them, pulling them both in for another hug. "That's more than okay. That's perfect."
And it is. Because for the first time in their lives, they get to choose. They get to want something beyond mere survival, and I get to give it to them.
"You know what this means, though?" I say, pulling back to look at them both seriously.
"It means you finally get to be normal teenagers.
No more worrying about adult problems. No more looking over your shoulders.
Just homework and friends and all the boring, wonderful things kids your age should be dealing with. "
Crue grins, the expression transforming his face. "Can we still visit the funeral home? I miss Boo."
“And Fi,” Cassius adds.
I laugh, the sound surprising me with its lightness. "Boo would be devastated if you didn't. Fair warning about Felix though—he's been stress-baking since you left. The freezer is full of enough cookies to feed a small army."
"Score," Cassius says, and for a moment, he looks exactly like what he is—a thirteen-year-old boy excited about cookies.
Wild's hand settles on my shoulder as I stand, his touch warm and grounding. When I look up at him, there's something soft in his dark eyes, something that tells me he understands exactly what this moment means.
Blade moves to my other side, and together we watch the boys gravitate toward Phoenix, who immediately asks about their classes and friends. The conversation flows easily, naturally, like this gathering of dangerous people in an elegant mansion is the most normal thing in the world.
Maybe it is, for us. Maybe this is what normal looks like when you're part of Esther's world—family dinners with assassins and criminals and FBI agents who've chosen love over law.
"You did good," Blade murmurs in my ear, his breath warm against my skin. "Letting them choose."
"They deserve to choose," I reply, watching Cassius laugh at something Phoenix says. "They deserve everything we never had."
Wild's fingers squeeze my shoulder gently. "They have it now. Because of you."
Because of us, I think, but don't say it out loud.
Some truths are still too new, too precious to voice.
But as I stand between these two men who've somehow become my anchor in a world that's always been chaos, watching two boys I love like my own sons plan their return to something resembling childhood, I think maybe I'm finally learning what it means to have a family.
A real one. The kind worth fighting for.