Page 54 of Oathbreaker

I spin. I spiral. The room buzzes.

Suddenly, he stands up. “Come with me,” he says as he holds out his hand. I don’t hesitate to take it. It’s an automatic reflex.

“Where are we going?” I whisper.

He smiles. It’s a soft look. He kicks my hard-soled slippers from beneath my chair. “Put your shoes on.”

I comply.

We make our way out of the kitchen and across the living room, and before we head out the double French doors to the veranda, he snags three thick blankets and grabs us each a coat. We slip them on.

“Can I show you my favorite spot?” Hunter asks as we move through the winterized garden.

“You mean the rose garden isn’t your favorite place? I guess maybe it’s your office.”

He laughs. “No, although the rose garden will always hold a very special place in my heart.” His eyes drop to my mouth, and I know he’s thinking about our first kiss.

A tingle settles low in my core, heating me. I squash it immediately as fear and disgust follow closely behind.

He doesn’t say anything else as he takes my hand again.

“Kitty, come,” Hunter says, and I bite my lip. Kitty follows, sidling up to Hunter.

Well, I’ll be damned. “Et tu, Kitty?” My turncoat dog tilts his head at me, shaking out all his limbs before sitting next to Hunter’s leg.

Then he looks up at Hunter for further instruction.

We both start to walk.

It’s a full moon, so I can see the path. I follow Hunter’s sure steps as he walks us deeper into the manor’s grounds. After a few minutes, we cross through the final pass of trees and come across the shore of a lake. The lake has to take up at least four acres, and the twenty-foot stretch of water from the shore is frozen thick. The silent beauty of the moon reflecting on the ice has me breathing deeply for what feels like...forever.

The stillness is the balm I didn’t know I needed to calm my nervous system after the kitchen incident.

“Wow,” I say, looking at the lake. The bank is sandy, with a few giant boulders scattered along the shore. All around the perimeter are tall trees—pines and different evergreens. Hunter doesn’t release my hand as we walk parallel to the lake, and after a few minutes, he directs me toward a large log that looks carved out for people to sit on.

This is now my favorite spot in the world.

Hunter doesn’t say anything when he sits me on the log and drapes one of the thick blankets over my shoulders. He sits next to me, slinging one of the blankets over his back like a cape, and spreads the third blanket over both our laps. He takes a deep breath—I think to inhale the smell of nature. I do the same.

“Play,” I say to Kitty, and he bounds off to explore down the shore.

“Did you spend much time here in Amelia Manor growing up?” I ask him.

“Not very much time at all. I was sent to boarding school in Connecticut as soon as I hit kindergarten. My mom owned this property, separate from my father. It had been in her family for generations. Her great-grandmother was named Amelia, and that was my mom’s name too.”

“What happened to her?” A frog croaks in the distance.

Hunter’s shoulders hunch over. His brows pinch together in a look I’ve come to recognize is one of his tells for when he’s feeling things he doesn’t want to feel.

“She died when I was a teenager,” he says. There’s no inflection in his tone. “I would spend part of my summers here growing up, and my mom would bring me and my sister down here to play in the lake.” He nods toward the water. “It’s pretty shallow at this part.”

A few craggy rocks reflect the moonlight.

It’s the most peaceful spot I’ve been to in a very long time.

“We’re part of a fucked-up club, you and I. August too, I guess,” I say with a small laugh.

“How so, Sunbeam?”

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