Page 88 of Mystic's Sunrise

Zeynep.

Her name settled in my chest like a brand, burning into every part of me. I hadn’t meant for this to happen, hadn’t planned on falling this hard. But there was no denying it now.

I was in love with her.

Not just drawn to her, not just protective over her—I loved her. The way she trusted me when she had every reason not to, the way she looked at me like I was more than just my scars, more than just my past. Like I was someone worth holding on to.

And she was mine. She didn’t doubt it.

But she didn’t know everything.

My hands tightened around the handlebars. The weight in my chest wasn’t something I could shake, no matter how many miles I put between me and the clubhouse. No matter how many times I told myself I’d deal with it later.

There was no later anymore. Not after last night. Not after she gave herself to me like that, no hesitation, no doubt.

She deserved the truth.

I spotted a break in the road ahead and pulled over, dust kicking up as I slowed to a stop. The engine cut off, leaving only the hum of the wind through the trees around me.

My pulse thundered as I pulled my phone from my pocket, my thumb hovering over the screen. I knew what had to be done.

One breath. Then another.

I hit the call button and pressed the phone to my ear.

The line rang once. Twice.

Then, a voice on the other end. Familiar. Unavoidable.

I stared out at the open road, my grip tightening. “We need to talk.”

***

THE CLUBHOUSE WASquieter than usualwhen I walked back in. A few of the boys were out riding. The rest, nursing beers, playing card, or shooting a round of pool. I sighedas I looked around, for the first time in months I wasn’t crawling out of my skin.

The pressure was off, for now. The problem was handled. Not fixed. Not clean. But enough to give me space to breathe.

And fuck, I needed it.

Because all morning, all I could think about was her. How she’d looked tangled in my sheets. How she’d whispered she wasn’t leaving. How her body had moved beneath mine like she’d been made for me.

I found her out back near the edge of the property, barefoot in the grass, her hair a soft mess in the sunlight, reading that book again—A Walk With Meor whatever the hell it was called.

She looked up when she saw me, and something shifted in her expression. Relief. Happiness. Like maybe she hadn’t been sure I’d come back. That made something crack open in my chest.

I shoved my hands in my pockets and nodded toward the trees. “Wanna take a walk?”

She smiled and closed the book without a word, sliding it under her arm as she joined me.

We didn’t say much at first. Just walked past the garage, down the dirt path that led to the woods behind the property. Birds chirped overhead, the breeze catching the hem of her dress, and all I could think about was getting her somewhere no one could hear her scream.

Not from fear.

Fromme.

We reached the clearing near the old stone wall. No one ever came out this far. I stopped walking and turned toward her.

She paused, eyes questioning, soft lips parted. “Are you okay?”

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