Page 23 of Goldrage
Please don’t let this be a walk toward my funeral.
The guard station sits like a tumor on the pristine landscape. It’s made of concrete and has thick windows, likely bulletproof. This place reallyisa fortress. Through the tiny window, I see something move. A man in tactical gear spots me and his hand flies to his weapon faster than thought.
But then his eyes widen. I think he recognizes me; it dawns on his weathered face like a slow sunrise.
I stop just outside the guard station door as it opens. I’m about to deliver the lines I rehearsed, but the guard raises his hand, cutting me off.
“I know who you are. Hold on.”
He reaches for his radio without breaking eye contact, like I might vanish if he blinks. Or he’s worried I’ll attack him. Maybe both.
My fingers drift to my stomach, pressing against the flatness beneath my blue summer dress. My womb is completely empty, but they don’t know that. They’ll believe what they want to believe, that the Golden One carries precious Harrow blood. That I’m desperate enough to trade my freedom for medical care. That grief has finally broken me, or that I’ve come to my senses and want to be part of this family.
I cough as acid tickles the back of my throat; I think I almost puked at that last thought.
I want nothing to do with this fucking family. I love Adrian, but he’s not a monster like the rest of his kin. And he’s eager to denounce his name.
Adrian.
Could he be watching from some window? Does he know I’m here? Or are his wounds so bad he can barely move?
My eyes scan the visible parts of the estate, searching for any sign of him, but the windows reflect only a cloudless, blue sky. He could be anywhere in that maze of rooms. Chained. Drugged. Being fed poison by his mother’s honeyed words.
God, what if he’s given up? What if he’s?—
The gates groan open like a yawning mouth, and two more guards materialize from nowhere. They flank me without speaking. One gestures toward the driveway withhis rifle.
“Move.”
I force my shoulders back and start walking.Show time.
The driveway curves through a beautifully maintained lawn that belongs in a magazine, not a torture house. Roses bloom along the walkways, their petals the color of fresh blood and blushing cheeks. And the trees seem arranged for intimidation, their branches creating shadows that reach toward me like claws ready to shred me open.
The mansion itself rises from the landscape like something out of a Gothic novel; there are plenty of sharp angles and gleaming windows that watch me approach. Beautiful, yes. But beauty designed to hide a destructive rot. I’ve seen enough pretty monsters to recognize one made of brick and mortar.
My breath catches as a figure appears at the entrance.
Julian.
The morning light does him no favors. His skin has the sickly pallor of someone who’s been drinking instead of sleeping, and dark circles bruise the skin beneath his eyes. But it’s his expression that stops my heart.
Pure, naked shock.
His mouth opens slightly. Color drains from his already pale face until he looks like he might faint. Those blue eyes—once so full of fire when he looked at me—go wide and glassy. For one perfect second, I see past the devil to the man underneath, one who’s shaking like he’s witnessing proof that ghosts exist.
Oh my God. He thought I was dead.
As much as I hate him, my heart squeezes from thepain on his face. I’m guessing his damn mother said she’d killed me. She let him believe it. Let him mourn?—
Does he look like he’s been mourning?
Yes. I catch a hint of pain tucked around the tightness of his eyes, but it’s quickly gone, replaced by a wall of ice so thick even bullets couldn’t break through.
He stuffs his hands in his jean pockets and looks down the tip of his nose at me. His voice is a biting slap. “You’re not as smart as I thought. Why the fuck would you come here? You finally have a death wish?”
I lift my chin, a gesture he once admired. “I want to see Adrian. I know he’s here.”
Julian’s jaw tightens. I watch the muscle jump beneath his skin and remember kissing that exact spot. Now I want to break it.
