Page 48 of Ashes of Honor

“Why didn’t you try and find me?” I blurted out. “Come for me when you realized I was alive?”

The others showed no indication of hearing, though they were within earshot. Hunter slowed his steps and created some distance. Unease seeped from Serenity, her body tensing, and I glanced between them briefly, eyes narrowed.

Hunter inhaled and held it for a few seconds. He shrugged with a sorrow filled sigh, “You left me. You both did. I called for you—searched for you both for days. I was in the area for months, hoping, praying, but you left.”

“I … I don’t understand. I saw you, saw it all happen. Uncle Harris shot you—five times. Twice in the chest, once in the stomach, the graze on your neck, and then …” My breath faltered. The last one—had it really been the head? I could still see it, clear as day. The way his body crumpled. The blood. But now, doubt curled around the memory wispier than smoke.

“You fell,” I whispered, my voice raw. “And you didn’t get back up.”

Tears threatened to stain my face, but I held them back for everyone else’s sake. If I let myself go right now, I knew I wouldn’t be able to control my magic. The irritating, grating sound of chattering teeth assaulted my ears. It took long, silent seconds to realize they were my own. I clamped my mouth shut, fighting to maintain an ounce of dignity.

The soft, warm embrace of my brother soothed a part of my soul I hadn’t expected to heal. A forgotten wound to my heart I ignored the pain of every day. Losing someone so close to you goes far beyond the gripping reality of tragedy. When they hold so much space in your heart that their absence becomes a physical pain, there’s no choice but to push their memory away. It’s the only way to survive it.

“Remember that week before it all happened?” he asked quietly, his voice almost swallowed by the sound of the sea.

We walked side by side, boots crunching against gravel-strewn paths that skirted the edge of a windswept cliff. The Pacific churned against the jagged shoreline, angry and frothing at the white capped mouth of each wave. I nodded, silent, giving his words room to linger.

Hunter had become withdrawn, leaving not just me to my lonesome, but Seth too. It was a rare thing for him. Usually, if he wasn’t off riding or hunting with Seth, he was nestled up in the corner of the living room with me, listening to me ramble or reading as I crafted away with my hands. We were always busy, always productive; idle hands weren’t tolerated on our ranch. And when the world had gone to hell, nothing much changed—at least, not at first. A ranch was a ranch. The only new thing about our circumstances was magic that could help.

His teeth clenched together, Hunter continued, “Well, I was up in the attic, going through the mess. Ma said she had some old books stored up there. Said if I could find ‘em, they were mine.” His light pink lips twisted into a knot as his memories flooded back.

A memory tugged me too.Yes, he’d finished everything we had downstairs twice over and was on the hunt for something new.

“Well, I fucked around and found more than I was looking for. Harris killed people. Lots of ‘em. About twenty, from what I could tell. Dad, uh … he kept the newspaper clippings. Crossed state lines to keep people from connecting them all. I think Dad was the only one who did. Got him on the straight and narrow. It was before Sloan was born, before he met Auntie. Pretty sure he made him join the military and called it a day. Kept the clippings for whatever reason. “

I exhaled sharply, understanding settling over me like a weight. Our father had always known. He hadn’t stopped Harris—he’d simply redirected him, found a way to make him useful. To control him.

Now he was doing the same thing. Treating people as weapons to be wielded, threats to be neutralized. The camps. The executions. The fear he spread was more destructive than a plague.

“Just like now,” I murmured. “He doesn’t fix problems. He repurposes them.”

“Exactly.”

A knot formed deep in my belly, slow and sickening as the horror set in. “So you confronted him?”

Hunter’s gaze remained straight ahead. Most would say our eyes were the same from first glance, but Hunter’s were slightly different. A dash of extra ice that differed from the rest of ours that made him appear colder than Seth, even if it had always been the other way around.

His words still carried the same bashful but fearless energy he’d always had, though the added confidence was something I’d have to get used to. “No. I mean, not by choice. I’d asked Seth if he wanted to go for a hunt. Was gonna ask him what to do. I didn’t want him on the ranch, not around you and Ma. But he was due back to Minnesota soon. If it wasn’t worth the fight, then there was no point. Harris noticed the distance I set between us, though. Cornered me when he overheard Seth and me on the walkie. Asked if he could come. I supposed I was a bit jumpy, but the immediate no set him off. He asked me flat out and at that point I couldn’t deny. There was only one way out of that conversation. I knew it but stupidly I turned my back thinking we were family. There was no way he’d take out one of his own. Damn, was I wrong.”

Hunter glanced at me. He laughed bitterly, and the sound cut through me like glass. “I was so wrong. I heard your scream, but I couldn’t move. I thought you were comin’ for me at first. Then I heard him take off after you. It broke my heart I couldn’t save you. The terror in your voice. The shots fired not too long after and I thought that was it. This was how the Moore family ends, the smoke from the house made me give up. I closed my eyes, praying to the Lord he would take me soon and fast. I couldn’tmove anything but my arms, yet it all hurt so bad. I woke to Daisy nudging me with her nose to get up, to fight.”

I froze, his words unraveling the past in sharp, broken pieces. “How did you even survive?” My voice came out as barely more than a whisper.

“There’s another blessing that comes with water sometimes. Did you know that?” The pain in his eyes was naked as he glanced over at me. Hunter leaned close, his voice barely audible over the wind. “Only a few of us out there. Or that’s what we thought at first. Turns out father has plenty locked away behind his border and he’s doing his best tobreedmore.”

The word ‘breed’ made my stomach churn. I could hear the disgust in his voice, the snarl apparent in his tone without needing to steal a glance at his face. Without the ability to sense exactly how he was feeling, I took a risk. I cut the side of my hand with my nails, then waved two fingers over it. The power of my magic offered a warm hug over my skin as I watched the wound close almost instantly. “Hunter … you mean like this?” I asked softly.

“Yeah,” he said with a small smile, “something like that.” Hunter’s eyes went wide, breath shallow as he fixated on my hand, a flicker of fascination there.

His fingers moved with a phantom ache, the memory of pain etched into every tendon. “First one hit my stomach—knocked the wind right out of me. Next two tore through my chest. By the time the fourth hit my neck, I was already going down.” His throat bobbed, eyes distant. “I saw the last shot coming. Right between the eyes. But I hit the ground first. Either he thought I was dead, or the angle was off. It never landed.”

He was quiet and still, every part of him moving like he was walking through a dream. “When Daisy found me, I could barely move—just my hands, my right arm. I was pissed. Slammed my fist against my core over and over, furious my body wouldn’tlisten. Then … the warmth came. At first, I didn’t notice that with every hit, sensation came back to my body. Once the nerves had healed enough for the pain to seep in, my brain went on autopilot to stop the bleeding. Plugged my finger in each bullet hole and healed right over it. Nasty shit, let me tell ya, Reina. Zombies coming down from the house covered in flames was enough pressure to get things moving and quick.”

I wanted to ask many things, questions tangled up in my mind. There was only so much we could get into at the moment. I stuck with the heavy hitters. “How did you get here? Your people—Serenity—all that jazz?”

He chuckled, his gaze turning warmer, softer. “So many questions, yet I haven’t had the chance to ask about you.”

I laughed and waved him off. Part of me didn’t want to repeat it because saying it aloud sucked harder every time. The other half wanted to keep it short because I was far more interested in what he had to say. I talked too much, but sometimes it was all too obvious when it was best to shut up and listen. “My story isn’t as interesting. Seth chose Dad over us, or rather, over the family we could have had. A rumor of a rumor got him to do it. Screwed us all after Amaia and her people took us in. Then … the dad I wish I had from the beginning died. And here I am—farm girl turned faux emissary, helping fuel a rebellion. Can you believe it?”

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