Page 37 of Lords of Ruin: Owned

Willow moves away, eyes narrowed on Vincent, while he steps closer, his presence almost suffocating now. “Willow,” he begins, but I cut him off, not wanting to hear it.

“I tell you I need space and you come to my house.” I snarl, eyes trained on the egg wash I slide across the top of each of the rolls.

“You weren’t answering my calls, or texts.”

“Because I needed space.” I snap.

“Willow I-”

“You beat him to a bloody pulp, Vincent.” My voice is harsh, sharper than I intended, but the anger rises in me anyway. “Jasper is in the hospital because of you. I don’t care how you try to justify it. That’s not okay.”

Vincent’s jaw clenches, his eyes darkening as he stares at me. “He tried to hurt you. You don’t understand, Willow. He wasgoing to-” His tone grows colder, more intense, and my skin prickles with the weight of his words.

“I know what he was going to do, but that doesn’t mean you get to hurt him.” I grab the tray of rolls and step back from the counter, trying to create more space between us, my heart thumping in my chest. “You think that makes it okay? Violence is never the answer. You don’t have to do that. You’re better than that.”

“I’ll always protect you, no matter what. By any means necessary,” Vincent says, his voice low, like a vow.

I shake my head, refusing to let myself be swept up in his intensity. “No,” I snap, turning away from him as I swiftly open the oven and slide the rolls inside. “I don’t want that kind of protection. I don’t need you to hurt people for me. I don’t needyouto fight my battles.”

Vincent takes a step forward, but I hold up my hand, silencing him. “Just… don’t. Please.”

The tension between us crackles in the air, thick and suffocating. He watches me for a long moment, and I can feel the weight of his gaze like an anchor in my chest. But then, just as quickly as it appeared, the moment passes, and he steps back. I can tell he’s frustrated, but he doesn’t push.

I turn to see Dad and Jasmine are engrossed in their own conversation about hockey, their voices rising with enthusiasm as they debate teams and players. Jasmine is practically glowing, her passion for the sport clear as day. Damien seems content to listen, his eyes occasionally flicking over to me, but he stays out of it.

I feel like an outsider, standing there trying to keep my distance from Vincent, while Jasmine and Dad talk about hockey like they’re in their own world. It’s a strange comfort, hearing them so animated, so full of life, while I’m caught in a whirlwind of emotions I don’t know how to handle.

When the timer for the rolls bleats, Dad calls everyone to the table. The smell of pot roast and fresh bread fills the air. I take a seat between Jasmine and Dad, grateful for the buffer between me and Vincent, who sits across from me. Damien is next to him, his posture casual but his eyes anything but.

“So,” Dad begins, slicing into the roast, “you boys seem to know a lot about hockey. How do you know Willow?”

Vincent doesn’t miss a beat. “We’re close friends,” he says smoothly, his gaze flicking to me before returning to Dad. “We’ve been around Willow since freshman year.”

I stiffen, my grip tightening on the edge of my plate. Jasmine nudges me under the table, a small, silent reminder to stay calm, but I can’t— not when the memory of what Cast said flashes across my mind.Vincent has been fucking himself to you since freshman year.Intrigue rolls through me and for a second I want to ask if spank banks are included in friendships, but I don’t.

Damien, who’s been uncharacteristically quiet, leans forward, his intense gaze fixed on Dad. “Willow was the recipient of my mother’s heart,” he says, his voice steady but tinged with an edge of emotion.

The table falls silent. Dad sets his fork down, his expression shifting from surprise to sympathy. “I’m... I’m so sorry for yourloss,” he says sincerely. “But thank you. Your mother gave my girl another chance at life. Willow, why didn’t you tell me?”

My eyes bore into the side of Damien’s head, but he doesn’t look at me, and I don’t look away as I speak. “Um…I don’t know.”

“Well, we should invite you over again for more than roast beef.” Dad insists.

Damien offers him a tight smile that doesn’t reach his eyes. “Don’t worry about it, just knowing my mother’s death saved her, well, it makes it worth it.” His eyes lock with mine, and there’s something unspoken in them, something that makes my chest tighten. “And because she is the last piece of my mother living, I will always protect her. Always.”

Dad nods, a soft smile forming on his face. “That’s good to hear. Knowing she has people like you two looking out for her... it makes me feel better about leaving.”

I blink, my head snapping toward him. “Leaving? What do you mean?”

Dad sighs, running a hand through his hair. “I didn’t want to bring it up tonight, but I got an offer to go work on a project in Alaska. It’s a big opportunity, and I’ll only be gone for a few months. I just... I didn’t want to leave you alone, but we need the money.”

The room feels like it tilts for a moment, the weight of his words settling in my chest. Alaska. Months. Alone.

“When do you leave?” I whisper, my heart slowly breaking in my chest.

“Three days,” he sighs, avoiding my eyes.

“Dad…” I start, but Vincent interrupts, his voice firm.

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