Page 171 of The Outlaw's Savage Revenge

And if there’s one thing Scar has always been lethal at, it’s removing obstacles.

Luna may just be in the most dangerous place she could ever be—because if it comes to it, I don’t know if I can stop Scar.

50

Luna

Saint’s barking jolts me awake. Beneath it, angry voices rumble, too muffled to make out, but the tension in them is razor-sharp. I burrow deeper into sheets that smell like Cade, hoping to block it all out, but more snippets bleed through as they get louder.

“. . . fuck you! . . . killed him . . .” Scar’s voice is higher pitched than usual.

“. . . move the fuck on . . .” Cade’s deeper tone is followed by more of Saint’s frantic whines.

My mind drifts to last night: Cade and me stumbling in from the rain. Scar in the doorway, silent, his face carved from stone before he vanished upstairs without a word.

No wonder he’s pissed. Cade left him in the dark for a week, then suddenly turned up buck-naked in the middle of the night, making enough racket to wake the dead.

ButCade did go and talk to him at some point, didn’t he? I’m not quite sure, it’s all a blur now.

Saint’s bark pitches higher, more urgent. Something crashes—like glass breaking.

My pulse stutters, but I tell myself to let them work it out. Boys fight. It’s nothing new.

I stretch, wincing at the delicious soreness spreading through my limbs, and slide from the warm cocoon of sheets.

The bathroom mirror tells a messy story—wild hair tangled from sleep, lips still swollen from Cade’s kisses, my neck marked with evidence of his possession. I lift a hand to tame the chaos, fingers combing through dark waves—

And freeze.

Light catches on metal, drawing my eye to something that shouldn’t be there. Can’t be there. My heart lurches to a stop, then kicks up again.

An emerald ring sits snugly on my fourth finger as if it grew there overnight. The deep green stone, offset by tiny diamonds, gleams in the morning light, and my stomach flips violently. It matches exactly the emerald at the center of the Reaper Druids’ skull that stretches across Cade’s back. It’s a signature, a claim.

Panic prickles up my spine. A promise ring? Something symbolic? Surely just an Old Lady thing.

But my mind whispers the truth:Really? On your fourth left finger?

I lift my hand, my heart hammering painfully against my ribs as the truth settles over me like a crushing weight.

A ring on this finger only means two things. A blood oath, like the ones mafia bosses give their most trusted lieutenants—or a promise of forever. And Cade would know that. He doesn’t do anything without purpose.

Myhand trembles as I touch the ring, half expecting it to dissolve like some surreal dream. But it’s real. The emerald is rich, deep, almost dark—like it holds secrets I’m not sure I’m ready to unlock.

Oh God. It’s so fucking perfect.

Tears prick my eyes and spill over. They’re hot, scalding even, a release of too much emotion all at once. Fear, joy, hope—all tangled together like a knot I can’t untangle. Cade and I . . . we weren’t supposed to be this. That was the unspoken deal, wasn’t it? No strings attached. Just fire and passion until the flames burned out.

But this ring changes everything.

Saint’s barking jars me from the bathroom. Throwing on one of Cade’s T-shirts, I rush to the kitchen, my bare feet silent against the floor. The air feels different down here—heavy and thick, like the charged moment before lightning strikes.

I pause in the doorway, and the sight before me sends ice shooting through my veins.

Bloody shards of broken glass glitter on the floor. Scar stands with his back to me, his broad shoulders unnaturally stiff. The tattoo spanning his skin looks warped in the dim light, like a twisted parody of Cade’s. Across from him, Cade’s jaw is tight, and his eyes—oh God, his eyes. They’re hollowed with something close to despair.

“Baby?”

Scar’s shoulders go even more rigid at the sound of my voice. He steps around the massive island and moves to the far side of the kitchen by the huge window. His back remains turned to Cade and me as he stares at the swaying palm trees in the yard.

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