Page 98 of Shattered Jewel

But I understand. The helplessness, the desperation to save someone you care for from an enemy that always seems one step ahead. It’s a feeling I know all too well.

“Doesn’t change the fact that she’s gone because of me. Because I was too much of a dumbfuck to see their game.”

Wilder sniffs hard, schooling his face into practiced apathy. “After that, I promised myself I’d never let anyone else get close. Never let anyone else become a victim because of me. But then you showed up.”

My hand stills on his arm, the stress under his skin bulging against my palm. His body is a paradox—present yet distant, still but far from at ease.

But I also feel strength. Resilience. A fierce, unbreakable will to protect those he holds dear.

It’s then I finally figure out that Wilder isn’t just coming with me as backup. He’s coming with me because he cares, because he’s willing to put his life on the line for mine.

The SUV lurches as Wilder takes a sharp turn, the tires screeching against the asphalt. He guns the engine, the vehicle surging forward with renewed purpose.

And I’m guessing the conversation is over.

I grip the door handle as he rounds another bend, and there, rising from the treeline, is Blackwood Manor, home to Clover and the Vultures.

Wilder cuts the engine. His hands leave the wheel reluctantly as he faces me, and his curt nod says more than words could.

Together, we exit the vehicle, striding towards the old but well-maintained structure, ready to face whatever might crawl out of its walls.

Chapter 25

Elara

Blackwood Manor’s weathered stones are bathed in an ethereal glow that battles with the darkness creeping along its edges. Trees cast long shadows over the expansive grounds, their gnarled branches reaching out and ready to snatch at any unsuspecting soul daring to venture too close.

A stain of unease spreads across the back of my neck as we approach what the guys consider to be enemy territory.

Wilder, all business now, pulls ahead, the measured cadence of his steps soothing. He glances back at me only once, that quick study seeming to permanently etch me as I am into his mind. mask of grim purpose settles over his features.

I quicken my pace, falling into step beside him. As we near the imposing front door, my unease grows. The feeling becomes stronger when I really think about Clover’s men, the Vultures.

I’ve met two, Tempest and Rossi, but that was enough. Most around campus have heard rumors about them within Titan Falls’ local gossip mill, salacious whispers and nothing more, but their reputation, even as their disguise as professors and teaching assistants, commands an intimidating respect.

As Wilder raises his hand to knock on the door, I tell myself to breathe normally. Their house might be a fortress hiding more bloodshed than anyone could imagine, but so is my heart.

The door swings open before his knuckles can make contact with the heavy wood, revealing a rather imposing man with dark brown hair and matching eyes that glint with intelligent perusal as he takes us in.

He looks vaguely familiar, but I can’t quite place him. Though his carved, angular face emotes nothing as his gaze rakes over me in a way that makes me want to die a little inside.

“Elara Wraithwood and John Wilder.” He moves the thin line of his mouth just enough to say our names.

His voice is rough, like the quiet thunder before a storm, and just as intermittent. And the way he forms our names is unsettling; like he’s not used to communicating before strangers.

Wilder shoots his arm out, forming a barrier between me and this new player. Though it shouldn’t, my stomach flutters at Wilder’s protectiveness. I’d like to think of myself as an independent lady, but sometimes it’s nice to have man fling you behind them for safety.

It’s undeniably hot.

“Who are you?” Wilder asks.

“Rio,” the man answers. “And you’re trespassing.”

Not one to mince words, then.

I send a wary look to Wilder, unsure of how to navigate this encounter. The sound of the surrounding forest settles over us, each of us trying to decipher the motives behind the other.

Until I can’t take it any longer.

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