He smiles, but there’s nothing behind it now. Just dust and old betrayal.
“Let’s go ask daddy dearest what the hell he’s done this time.”
And that’s the only thing we all agree on.
The trek back up the hill is an exercise in barely restrained violence. Mud clings to our boots, to our calves, to the cracks between each bitter inhale, but none of us slow down. Not with Luna walking ahead, tethered tohim.That chain between them glints gold and damn nearholywhen the light catches it, if holy meant desecration by design.
We try,gods, we try, to wedge ourselves between them. Lucien keeps sweeping to her right, shoulder angled protectively, power humming just beneath his skin. I know the look in his eye; he’s calculating a hundred ways to unmake a bond the rest of us spent eons pretending never existed.
Ambrose flanks her other side, jaw set, fingers twitching like he wants to replace the cuff with something of his own. Something sharper. Something final.
I fall back just long enough to let Luna breathe.
But Theo stays tethered. Every step he takes keeps him closer than we can stomach. The chain doesn’t drag. Itpulls, subtle and inescapable. Every time she moves away, it nudges her back toward him, like itknowsher better than we do.
And that’s what kills me.
Caspian’s walking directly behind them now, which isinsanity,because I know his temper’s just waiting for an excuse. He keeps muttering, too low for Luna to hear, just enough for Theo to catch it. Venom. Venom in velvet.
“You touch her again and I’ll break every bone in your body starting from your wrists,” he says conversationally. “You won’t be able to jerk off to your smug reflections after I’m done.”
Theo, the piece of shit, grins.
“I always knew you had a way with threats, Caspian. But don’t flatter yourself, I don’t need hands to ruin someone.”
Lucien throws an arm out, stopping Caspian from lunging. Barely.
“Enough,” Lucien grits. “We’ll handle this once we know what Blackwell’s done.”
Theo shrugs like we’re discussing the weather. “I’m not the one who keeps throwing punches every time Luna looks at me.”
At her name, she stiffens. And gods, she’s trying so fucking hard to pretend she’s fine. Head high, shoulders squared, but that bond’s in her blood now. She feels it. Even if she won’t admit it.
Orin murmurs something under his breath, words that probably belong in a language no longer spoken. He’s watching Luna, not Theo. Always Luna. Always reading the storm under her skin before it cracks wide.
The chain jolts, just a little. And Theo stumbles closer.
I grab his shirt hard. “Get. Off. Her.”
“It’s not me doing this,” he says, voice low now. There’s no smugness this time. Just… something else. Something sharp and ancient that feels like it belongs in the ruins we left behind centuries ago.
Luna spins on him before any of us can stop her.
“Then stop pulling,” she hisses.
“I’m not pulling, sweetheart,” Theo says, slow and dark. “You are.”
Silas slips between them like smoke. Not subtle. Not quiet. Just a sudden, chaotic presence laced in a grin far too sharp for anyone’s comfort.
He plants himself in front of Theo, one hand outstretched behind him to block Luna like he’s her damn shield, and the other dragging through his messy hair like he’s preparing for a monologue. Which, of course, he is.
“Okay, alright,okay, plot twist. Maybe we don’t let the cursed horndog emotionally manipulate our girl five minutes after she faceplanted into a mud bathbecause of him.Just a wild idea.”His voice rings with that perfect pitch of sarcasm he’s mastered, equal parts absurd and lethal.
Theo raises a brow. “Is that your job, then? Guard dog? Or court jester?”
“Jester,please.” Silas flashes teeth. “But only because I already pissed in all the corners of this relationship. I marked my emotional territory long before you grew a conscience and decided to start brooding in moonlight.”
Theo’s mouth twitches. “You’re jealous.”