Page 88 of The Viper
“You okay?” I asked.
She nodded. “One of the women—Meghan—brought me this. She’s lovely.”
“She really is.”
Before either of us could say more, Atlas appeared at the end of the corridor. His presence seemed to steady the very air.
“Thank you,” I said, gesturing to my sister. “For helping Hannah. You didn’t have to?—”
“It’s no trouble,” he said, cutting gently but firmly through the formality. “We take care of our own.”
There it was again—that word. Ourown.
Hannah’s throat moved as she swallowed. “Please thank Teddy for me,” she said softly.
Atlas nodded. “He’ll be pleased.” His gaze lingered on her, assessing but kind, then flicked toward me. “If you need anything, the family is downstairs.”
When he turned to go, Hannah squeezed my hand. “He’s intimidating.”
“He’s also the reason we can sleep tonight,” I said.
She nodded, understanding, then left to find her new suite. I watched until she disappeared around the corner before heading downstairs.
The mansion had shifted from night to day. Light streamed through tall windows, throwing gold across the marble. The faint scent of coffee and cinnamon drifted from the kitchen, mingling with the sharper smell of sea air. It didn’t feel like a fortress now. It felt alive.
The kitchen itself was enormous—vaulted ceilings, long counters, sunlight pouring across stainless steel and polished wood. People filled it, laughter echoing in the space between pots and conversation. They all looked up when I entered, not with curiosity, but warmth.
Atlas stood near the island, coffee in hand, talking with two men who shared the same broad-shouldered build and impossible calm. They turned as I approached.
“Lexi,” Atlas said, a faint smile pulling at his mouth. “Glad you could join us. These are my brothers—Ryker and Elias.”
Ryker Dane. He was tanned and rangy, with dark hair and a grin that hinted at mischief. His wife, Isabel, stood beside him—delicate and composed, her brown eyes quick and kind. She offered her hand. “We’ve heard so much about you.”
Elias, in contrast, looked more like an academic than a soldier—quieter, thoughtful, with intelligent eyes and the kind of stillness that made people listen when he finally spoke. His wife, Vivienne, stood next to him, all elegance and poise, herLouisiana accent coloring every word. “Good morning,” she said warmly.
“Noah says that Lucas speaks very fondly of you,” Atlas said, matter-of-factly.
That made me blush. “Does he?”
Elias’s mouth curved. “If he’s anything like the rest of us, he’s not the sort who says much. But when he does, it matters.”
Ryker smirked. “Yeah, a Dane brother talking about any woman is practically a public announcement.”
“Ryker,” Isabel murmured, elbowing him gently.
“What?” he said, grinning wider. “I’m just saying, our boy’s serious.”
Before I could come up with a response, the air shifted. A door opened, and I knew without looking that it was him.
Lucas.
He crossed the threshold like a storm that had finally found calm, his dark shirt rolled at the sleeves. The moment he saw me, the rest of the room fell away. He didn’t hesitate—didn’t seem to care that so much of the Dane family stood between us. He reached me in a few strides, his hand cupping the back of my neck as he kissed me.
Soft at first. Then not.
The kind of kiss that saidI’m here, you’re safe, I found my way back.
When we finally broke apart, Ryker let out a low whistle. “Guess that answers my next question.”
