Page 34 of Rook

It’s not paranoia if they’re really out to get you.

“Make it five,” Vance counters, but his eyes are smiling even as he pushes us toward urgency.

“Five? You want me to go commando?” I quip, meeting his challenge head-on.

There’s a sparkle in his bright blue eyes that tells me he wouldn’t mind the thought.

“Wouldn’t be the first time,” Oberon chimes in from where he leans against the doorframe. A grin plays at his lips, knowing full well the double entendre will ruffle feathers—or in this case, ruffle my hair as he reaches past to tousle it.

“Keep dreaming, pretty boy,” I swat his hand away, but it’s a half-hearted attempt because the truth is, these two can unravel me faster than a kitten with a ball of yarn.

“Six minutes then,” Vance amends, magnanimous as ever. “For modesty’s sake.”

“Generous.” I can’t help but smirk back at him, feeling the heat in my cheeks that has nothing to do with the coffee. Turning on my heel, I stride toward my room, throwing over my shoulder, “Better not start without me.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it, Stargazer,” Vance calls after me, his voice trailing like a promise or a warning—sometimes it’s hard to tell the difference with him. Luka’s silent, hanging back, but I catch the tail end of a look shared between him and Rook. It’s heavy with unspoken words, and I don’t need to hear them to know we’re stepping into the lion’s den.

“Six minutes,” I mutter to myself, already yanking open drawers and grabbing essentials. We might be heading into chaos, but I’ll be damned if I let it catch me off guard.

Chapter fifteen

Luka

I slouch in the back seat, the leather sticking to my skin in this desert heat. Rook’s to my right, all quiet contemplation, eyes fixed on the road ahead. My gaze drifts between the cracked window and the car ahead where Vance rides shotgun, Aisling tucked away in the back seat with Oberon.

“Dammit,” I mutter under my breath, a mantra against the pull I feel toward her—even from here, it’s like she’s under my skin, running hot in my veins. I shouldn’t even be breathing the same scorched air as Aisling, not after what went down in New Eden. The memory is a bad trip that keeps replaying, and every time it does, I flinch, taste the bitter tang of regret.

“Can’t stop thinking about her, huh?” Rook’s voice cuts through the hum of the car engine, low and knowing.

I turn my head just enough to catch his reflection in the window. “Something like that.”

“Man, you’re wound tighter than a coil.” He gives me a sidelong glance. Maybe he’s trying to ease the mood or maybe he’s just got that itch for gossip, but I ain’t biting. Not yet.

“Look, all this…” I gesture vaguely between us, outside—anywhere but toward her, “it’s complicated.”

“Isn’t it always?” Rook huffs out a laugh that doesn’t quite reach his eyes.

“Rook, I gotta sort things with Gunnar first. Whatever I feel for Aisling, whatever mess we’re tangled up in… It’s got to wait.”

I lean my head back, closing my eyes, wishing I could shut out the world and its cruel twists. The car’s engine hums a low, steady rhythm, yet it can’t drown out the riot in my head. We’re cruising along the Mojave Skyway, but I might as well be in a cage for all the freedom it gives me. Heat pours in through the glass, thick and suffocating, mirroring the turmoil broiling under my skin.

“Hey,” Rook says, turning to face me with those sharp eyes that miss nothing. “You’ve been quiet for weeks. How you holding up?”

I run a hand over my face, feeling my rough, overgrown beard scratch against my palm, and let out a sigh. “I’m not good, man.”

“Figured as much.” He nods, and there’s this understanding in his voice that doesn’t make me feel any better.

“New Eden…” His voice trails off, and he cocks his head like he’s giving me an out, but we both know I won’t take it.

“Was a hellhole,” I finally reply, my words laced with venom. The memories are shards of glass in my mind, cutting deep whenever I try to piece them together.

“Want to talk about it?” he asks, and I glare at him because he knows damn well I don’t.

“Talking’s not gonna change what happened,” I snap, then sigh because Rook isn’t the one I’m angry at. “But you should know. Maybe it’ll help make sense of this mess.”

“Shoot.” He leans back, bracing himself against the seat.

“New Eden was a trap,” I start, and the words tumble out, heavy and dark. “An Alpha’s nightmare dressed up as paradise.” I leave out the bits he can’t ever know, focusing instead on the shadows that haunt me. “They played us like puppets—dosed us with eros until we couldn’t tell up from down. It turned me into a monster.”

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