Page 72 of Reaper & Ruin
“I can’t stay long,” she said, her voice barely audible. “Stay strong, Atlas. Don’t give them the satisfaction of making you into a monster.”
I wanted to ask her why she was helping me, why she cared at all, but the words didn’t come. Before I could gather my thoughts, she slipped back toward the door, her movementsquick and practiced. She glanced over her shoulder one last time, gave me a small nod, and then she was gone.
The door clicked shut behind her, and the room fell silent again. I stared at the spot where she’d stood, my heart still racing, and the faint taste of water lingering on my tongue. For the first time in hours, maybe days, I didn’t feel completely alone.
And it was all because of Danika.
Chapter Twenty Four, Lucky
This was it. This was how I was going to die. For real this time, not with me being dramatic.
Curled up in the middle of the bedroom, knife clutched in my shaking hand, I stared at the door, listening to the muffled voices outside. Malivore paced beside me, her thick fur brushing against my legs, a low whine vibrating from her chest. My heart hammered in sync with the soft padding of her paws, every beat heightening my anxiety.
The room smelled faintly of pine from the forest outside, but it didn’t do a damn thing to calm my nerves, which had been growing since my men had been taken. The creak of the cabin settling sent a shiver down my spine, every noise amplifying the tension in my body. It was getting light now, sunlight creeping in from the edges of the windows where the shadows couldn’t reach.
I was terrified because I couldn’t hear a woman outside. But I could hear a man. A deep voice. Low. Gruff. Teasing and just loud enough that it made me worry.
Malivore’s ears twitched, her pacing becoming more agitated. She wasn’t growling yet, but she was tense, ready. Her eyes darted to the door every few seconds, as if she knew someone dangerous was on the other side. But seeing as she couldn’t speak English, I didn’t know how to tell her that everything would be okay.
Or get her to tell me that.
My palms were damp as I tightened my grip on the knife. I couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off. I’d called Silver, not a damn SWAT team or a gross man of some kind. I’d trusted her to help. This felt… different. Wrong. More complicated. The voice outside was getting louder, clearer, and the dread in my chest bloomed into full-fledged panic.
I counted the seconds in my head, forcing myself to breathe, but each moment felt like a ticking bomb. Why was there a man with her? If she was even here at all. And why did the low rumble of male laughter make me feel like I was back in a nightmare I couldn’t escape?
Why did it sound familiar?
Before I could jump out of the window and run for it, there was a knock on the door. It made me jump so hard I almost dropped the knife.
“Heather?” Silver’s voice came through the wood, calm but carrying an odd tension. “It’s Silver. Open up.”
I froze, feeling my pulse hammering in my throat. Malivore stopped pacing, standing rigid and alert, her head cocked toward the door. Silver’s voice was casual, but the way she spoke… there was something off. Something I couldn’t quite put my finger on. And I knew she wasn’t alone.
Had she secretly betrayed Atlas? Was she here to murder me and wear my head as a hat? Or worse? But what was worse than that?Fuck.Was she going to lock me in her basement and never let me out? Drown me in a pool of blood that made me sick, so the combination was vile?
Was she going to commit the worst sin of all? Murdering my dog.
“I’m not here!” I yelled back, doing my best to keep my voice steady. “Heather’s dead! Please leave a message after the beep!”
I made a beep noise as I tried to work out what I was going to do.
There was a pause. Then a low chuckle. The kind of chuckle that was familiar enough to make my stomach drop and my blood run cold. I hadn’t heard it in years, but I’d never forget that sound.
“Lucky,” a man’s voice said, deep and amused. “Stop being dramatic and open the door.”
No fucking way.
I sat there frozen, knife gripped so tight in my hand my knuckles turned white. That voice belonged to someone who shouldn’t be here. Someone who had no right walking into my life now. Malivore growled low in her throat, sensing my distress, and her muscles coiled like she was ready to pounce on whoever dared to come through the door.
“Rowan?” I whispered, feeling like the ground was slipping out from under me. Then louder, forcing some steel into my voice, I shouted, “I don’t open doors for strangers! Especially ones who are dead to me!”
A long-suffering sigh echoed from the other side of the door, followed by the unmistakable click of a lock being picked.
Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me.
Malivore’s growl deepened as the door swung open, revealing the last person I ever thought I’d see standing there.
Rowan Kane, my big brother, looked smug as ever with that infuriating grin plastered on his face. He was older now—more tired-looking—but it was him. Same messy blonde hair, same tattoo-covered arms, same stupid, cocky look that made me want to punch him on sight.
