Page 9 of Owned By Shadows

“Because one day we may need it. So you need to memorise these co-ordinates, and swear that you will not tell another soul about them.” His dark eyes bore into mine, my pulse rushing in my ears.

“I swear,” I say, and the smile he gives me is the one that I’ve only ever seen when he’s looking at me. “What are the co-ordinates?”

He stares into my eyes, his so serious. “Five-nine-point-four-six-seven-four-zero-eight latitude, three-three-point-six-seven-nine-four-four-one longitude.”

He spends the next two hours making me repeat those numbers until they’re all I see, then I dream of frozen landscapes and a wooden house hidden in the woods.

“Iris?” I blink at the worried hint in Rowan’s tone, the memory fading as I look at him. “You’ve gone pale, Lamb. What is it?”

I swallow, my throat dry as my hands tremble.

“Those are the co-ordinates to a place that Nik owns. A place only he and I know about. He had me memorise them before, when we were growing up,” I tell him, Hunt coming around to sit on the coffee table before us.

“You’re saying that Nik sent that message to you?” he asks, his forehead creased and his eyes so fucking tired my heart hurts.

“He told me back then that one day we might need a secret place, Hunt.” I chew on my lower lip, that kernel of hope flaring bright inside my chest. “What if…”

“What if what? He’s using this to fucking trap you, to trap us all because he’s a fucking snake who needs his head cut off,” Hunt snarls, getting up and pacing in front of us. He runs his hand through his hair, but I can’t stop the thought now that it's taken root.

“What if Roman isn’t dead? What if Nik has taken him to a safe place and is asking me, asking us to meet him there to regroup?”

Hunt freezes, turning to face me, and I rear back at the look of venom in his eyes, which is also laced with pity, and I fucking hate it.

“Roman is dead, Peaches. We watched Nik shoot him,” he says, his voice gentle despite the anger swirling in his green orbs.

“But there isn’t a body!” I yell, getting up and facing off with him. My heart thrashes wildly inside my chest, and I know I need to calm down, for the sake of our child, if nothing else. I take a deep breath. “They never gave us a body, Hunt. There’s still a chance.”

“No, Peaches. There isn’t.” His words are final, his jaw hard and his tone unwavering. “And the sooner you accept that, the better.”

Then he storms out, the sound of the front door slamming behind me making my body flinch. I swallow, tears stinging myeyes, anger at Hunt just dismissing my idea, causing my fists to clench at my side.

“He’s right, Lamb,” Rowan’s soft voice cuts like a knife, and I glance down to find him staring into the distance, his body rigid, his hands clenched into fists on his lap. He stands up, his head turning until he’s looking at me. “You’ll just hurt more if you keep believing anything else.”

Without a backward glance, he grabs his gym bag and leaves the flat, closing the door softly behind him.

I’m left standing there, all alone for the first time in forever with my phone on the table before me, those co-ordinates on the screen, teasing me. I know in my gut I’m right, and even if a part of me isn’t sure, I have to try.

I take a deep inhale and pick up my phone, my fingers hovering over the screen.

Iris

On my way.

CHAPTER SEVEN

“CHERRY” BY LANA DEL REY

IRIS

It takes a matter of minutes to order an Uber to pick me up from the front of the estate and to grab the duffle bag that Nikolai packed for me so long ago. It’s empty, sitting at the back of the built-in wardrobe that the guys made for me, and I grab clothes at random, stuffing them in there along with some basic toiletries.

My heart thuds inside my chest as I hurry through the flat to grab my purse, which has a debit card to our joint bank account in it. I also nab my phone, then rush to the door, opening it to the cool night air to find that, of fucking course, they didn’t leave me completely alone.

“Bubby,” I gasp, his eyes widening as he looks at me, then down at the bag in my hand.

“What’s going on, Iris?” he asks quietly, his eyes narrowed under his hood as he steps in front of the doorway, blocking my exit.

Panic makes my chest tight, and I know that I’ll have to convince him if I’m going to make this happen. “Roman might be alive, so I need to go to Russia and find out.”

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