Page 15 of Owned

Bastian leaned against the doorframe. “Tonight? But the moon is full— I thought the Council was allergic to cliches.”

Lucian ignored him, his focus still on me. “The Council must be reminded of our strength. There are those who forget their place.”

Bastian’s derisive snort was almost inaudible, but Lucian’s gaze flickered to him briefly.

“And why do you need us?” I asked.

Lucian’s lips curved into something that wasn’t quite a smile. “To ensure loyalty.”

His vagueness was as deliberate as it was infuriating.

I clenched my jaw, refusing to give him the satisfaction of seeing my frustration.

He had a way of revealing just enough to keep us on edge—to keep us guessing and hungry for more. It was a tactic he wielded with surgical precision, and I hated him for it.

“Prepare yourselves,” he said, dismissing us with a flick of his ink-stained fingers. “We leave immediately.”

There was nothing more to say. He would expect us to be ready when he emerged from the house.

Valen moved with restless energy and his dark tattoos shifted like shadows beneath his shirt as we walked down the silent hallway toward the foyer. “I don’t like this.”

“What’s to like?” Bastian drawled. “Not like it matters what we think.”

“Both of you shut up,” I snarled.

I was as uneasy as they were, but they didn’t need to know it.

Thankfully, they were silent as we prepped the vehicles. Valen kept the motorcycles in good condition and they roared to life in unison as I slid behind the wheel of the dark SUV.

As I pulled out of the garage and circled back toward the house, I tried to piece together what Lucian had said.

The council must be reminded of our strength. There are those who forget their place.

Since Avril’s arrival at Withermarsh, it seemed as though Lucian’s paranoia had intensified.

The SUV’s broad tires crunched over the gravel as I pulled into the courtyard and I tapped my fingers on the steering wheel as I waited for Valen and Bastian to pull in behind me.

Lucian stepped out of the house with his guards at his sides.

One of them walked ahead and opened the door so my father could slide into the back seat.

“I can still smell Craster’s pathetic corpse,” Lucian remarked casually as the door closed.

I tightened my grip on the wheel and said nothing as his guards entered the vehicle. I didn’t know their names, and I didn’t care to. I wasn’t entirely convinced they were human—there was something strange about them. Something… unnervingly cold in their eyes and in their movements. Bastian had his theories, but I wasn’t about to ask about them.

My brothers revved the engines of their motorcycles and flanked the SUV as we pulled away from Withermarsh.

The estate receded into the distance, swallowed by the fog and the night and I closed my eyes briefly as we passed through the shimmering ward that protected the estate.

I pressed my foot down on the accelerator as the road stretched out ahead of us. The roar of my brothers’ engines was a constant reminder of their presence, but I couldn’t be sure whether or not that was comforting.

As we neared the city, the roar of the motorcycles grew louder as Valen and Bastian put on speed to pass me and led the way through the winding streets toward Juniper Gardens Cemetery.

They were already waiting in the parking lot as I guided the SUV through the wrought-iron gates.

“They’re too reckless,” Lucian muttered. My gaze flickered to the rearview mirror, but my father’s expression was disinterested more than irritated.

The parking lot was almost full, and the lights in the funeral home glowed in the darkness.

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