Page 67 of Owned

“I’ll protect you,” I said.

Her eyes narrowed, and she pulled her wrist out of my grasp. “You said that before.”

“Avril— It’s different now.”

“Because if you betray me, the blood bond will kill you?” The bitterness in her tone echoed in my ears.

That was part of it.

Notallof it.

But part of it.

“That’s not true,” I said, my voice rough as I fought to keep my frustration at bay.

She didn’t answer. Her silence cut deeper than her words.

“I meant what I said—I’m not afraid.” Her voice was soft, but there was a raw edge to it. “And I’m not just sitting around waiting for you to save me.”

There was a hardness in her eyes. Something cold. She was an unfamiliar creature now—more dangerous, more alluring, and infinitely more complex.

“What are you waiting for, then?” I asked, daring her to tell me she trusted Bastian and Titus more than me.

Her expression darkened, but I caught the fleeting vulnerability beneath it. “An opportunity,” she said finally.

I pulled her close again, and this time she didn’t resist. “Then let me give you the opportunity you need,” I whispered against her neck. A shiver ran through her body, and I knew I hadn’t lost her yet.

She drew back slightly, enough to look into my eyes. “Why do you want to help me?”

“Isn’t it obvious?” I said and brushed my lips against hers with deliberate slowness until she responded with equal fervor.

When we broke apart again, I saw the beginnings of a smile on her lips—dangerous and knowing.

“You’re dangerous,” she murmured.

“Maybe.”

The moment the footsteps reached my ears, everything shifted. The world snapped back into focus with alarming clarity—the softness of the night air, an impending threat that bore down on us like a dark cloud overshadowed the scent of honeysuckle, and the quiet rustle of the leaves.

Avril’s bravado faded in an instant.

“Valen,” she whispered, her voice tight with fear, and my heart seized. Without waiting for a response, I took her hand, threading my fingers through hers, and pulled her further into the shadows, seeking refuge among the twisted briars and tall hedges.

We moved soundlessly, each step calculated to avoid the crunch of leaves and bracken underfoot. My mind raced as I tried to identify the source of the approaching footsteps. The guard—it had to be.

I could hear the distant clinking of metal and low murmurs that sent chills creeping along my spine.

“How many guards did you have?” I hissed.

The gardens were vast, an open expanse punctuated by clusters of thick foliage and hidden alcoves, but no matter how fast we moved, the footsteps followed.

Maybe Bastianwasright about them.

It was a labyrinth I knew all too well, but Lucian’s creations would know it better than I did. If they were powered by themagic of the grimoire and the subtle magic that ran through the estate itself—

“Do we wait?” she asked, her voice trembling as we pressed ourselves against the cool bark of an ancient tree. “What if they see us?”

The sudden intensity of her fear struck me.

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