Page 25 of The Devil's Thorn
The question hangs in the room—not vain, not light.
It’s a weapon I’m asking them to inspect.
And when their eyes meet mine again, I know they see it too.
The silence after my question isn’t filled with compliments.
It’s filled withpurpose.
Ash studies me from his place against the wall, his arms still crossed but his posture more alert now. Kellan sets his drink down on the table, eyes narrowing like he’s running through every possible outcome again.
Good.
I need them sharp. I need them on edge.
Because I am.
“I’ll be stationed outside the hallway leading to the back rooms,” Ash says finally. “The ones only high-ranking staff and security have access to. If anything feels off—if someone even looks at you wrong—I’m moving in.”
“You won’t need to,” I reply, voice quiet but sure.
Kellan lets out a slow breath as he rises from the couch, straightening his blazer. “And I’ll be in the surveillance room. I’ve already got control of one of the back monitors. Don’t ask how—I’m not explaining it again.”
I glance at him. “I didn’t ask.”
“Exactly,” he mutters.
He walks over to the kitchen counter and pulls out a small earpiece wrapped in a sleek black case. “You’ll be wearing this,” he says, holding it out. “We’re on frequency seven. No speaking unless it’s an emergency, andonlyif you can’t leave to get to one of us.”
I take it from him, roll it between my fingers once, then slide it into place. It fits like it belongs there.
Like everything else tonight.
“I’ll hear everything?” I ask.
“You’ll hear us,” Kellan confirms. “But we’ll hear you even better. I’ll have your position on-screen at all times.”
Ash steps closer. “And we have eyes on every floor. If someone pulls you away from cameras, I’ll know. If someone grabs your arm, I’ll know.”
“And if Igowillingly?” I ask, one brow lifting.
Ash doesn’t blink. “Then I’ll still follow.”
Kellan leans back against the counter, arms crossed now. “We’re not idiots, Iz. You’re walking into this with your hearttoo closeto the edge.”
“I’m walking in with my eyes wide open,” I correct.
“Are you?” Ash asks quietly.
I hold his gaze, throat tightening slightly—but I don’t look away.
Becauseyes. I am.
I’ve never seen more clearly in my life.
Rafael isn’t just the enemy anymore. He’s the last piece of a puzzle that’s kept me up at night for fifteen years. And I’m not leaving that table until I’ve looked him in the eye and know—for certain—what kind of monster he really is.
“Don’t forget,” I say, voice steadier than I feel. “This isn’t about how long it takes. It’s about not walking away empty.”
