Page 1 of Under Fyre

Chapter One

Fyre

IFOUND GOD IN HER PRETTY EYES WHEN I SACRIFICED HER INNOCENCE TO MORNING STAR

I stare down at my handwritten notes, my stomach tight and my mouth filled with bitter saliva. But I force myself to read Peter’s words, trying to ignore how, even back then, my handwriting was crude and unsteady.

Furious. Disgusted. Determined.

I read the line again, the one I’d underlined in a shaky hand.

FOUND GOD IN HER PRETTY EYES

Monroe gave me the keys I need to unlock Charlotte’s mind. To free her from the psychological prison he trapped her in. But the path I need to travel is paved with thorns and hedged with poison ivy.

And the view is…disgusting.

But what lies at the end of this journey is a treasure I crave more than anything in the world. That’s what it’s about. Not the pain, or the discomfort, or the lies I’ll have to go through to get there.

Charlotte—healed, sound of mind—is my guiding star.

I can only hope she’s strong enough to take this journey with me, and to make it all the way to the end.

Am I?

A warm weight lands heavily in my lap. I slide my hand under the table and stroke Arrow’s head. “Time for dinner, pups?”

My chocolate Labrador’s tail swishes in response.

“Give me a few minutes,” I tell her, fiddling with one of her soft ears. “I’m almost done here.”

Her tail wags again at the sound of my voice, but then she retreats dutifully and goes to lie down in her basket beside the fire.

It’s cold in here, but I barely feel it. I’m too immersed in my plans for Charlotte.

Chapter Two

Fyre

“You’re behaving like a lunatic,” I tell Arrow, watching her with a frown as she spins around in a circle. “Lunatics don’t go on walks.”

Arrow immediately stops spinning and sits on her butt, her tail swishing against the floor as she gazes up at me with adoring eyes. I squeeze the bridge of my nose as I look down at her. “We’ll take a walkafterbreakfast. Or have you forgotten we have a guest?”

At the wordguest, Arrow cocks her head and pricks up her ears.

“Where’s our guest?”

Arrow darts out of the kitchen, and I listen as she races down the hall, her nails click-clacking over my hardwood floors.

Then silence.

I’ve been preparing her for months. She knows better than to bark or scratch at the wood, even if she still can’t control herself when it comes to walks. She knows my guest is the most important thing to happen to our little family since…well, ever.

I pick up the tray of food I’ve prepared for Charlotte and walk down the hall. Arrow is sitting in front of the closed door, her jaws drooping and her gaze fixed on the wood as she slowly pants.

When I get close, she’s up on her paws in a flash, stepping back to give me room and watching as I unlock the door with a key I take out of my pocket.

I step inside, and say, “Wait,” the second I hear Arrow’s nails click-clacking impatiently on the floor.

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