Page 270 of The Devil's Thorn
I wasn’t going to stand here and let this happen.
Without thinking—without even breathing—I lunged back and bitdown, sinking my teeth into the side of his gloved hand, right where the fabric stretched over skin.
He hissed in pain, jerking his arm back, grip loosening. And Ishovedmyself free. But I didn’t make it far.
A second man—one who had been standing just a step too close—moved fast, slamming the butt of his rifle into my shoulder and sending me sprawling to the ground, gravel biting into my palms.
Pain flared through my chest. My jaw clenched. The world blurred.
“Don’t touch her!”
Rafael.
I heard the clatter of movement—his voice cutting through the chaos like a blade. But then—A thud. A grunt. The sharp crack of a knee colliding with bone.
I looked up just in time to see one of the guards driving his boot into Rafael’s ribs, sending him reeling sideways where they’d forced him to kneel. Another man yanked him upright, pinning him in place.
His jaw was tight. Blood at the corner of his mouth. But his eyes—they were only on me.
I was dragged back to my feet. My head was spinning, but I held onto his stare like a lifeline.
“Isa,” he ground out. “Don’t move. Don’t fight. Not now.”
Not now. Notnow.
My heart was breaking open. I didn’t even realize I was crying. I wanted to scream. And then— They moved.
The circle of men shifted slightly, parting just enough to make room for someone walking forward. Boots. Slow. Heavy. Covered head to toe in tactical black gear, a balaclava covering their face.
My stomach dropped. The energy shifted. Tightened. Like the night itself recoiled. The figure stepped into the glow of the headlights, standing still for a heartbeat… then reached up slowly—fingers finding the edge of the mask—and pulled it off.
And just like that…
Anna.
The woman who raised me. Who kissed my forehead when I cried. Who poured tea like we lived in another century. The woman I calledfamily.
I froze. Everything inside me collapsed at once, sucked out of my chest in a single, brutal breath.
“No.”
My voice barely left my throat.
“No—no.”
She didn’t look at me. Didn’teven glancein my direction. She walkedright past me.Like I was no one. Like I hadneverbeen anyone. My legs buckled, and the man behind me had to yank me upright again, harder this time.
She stopped in front of Rafael. He was still kneeling. Still bloody. Still watching me. But when she reached out… andtouchedhis face, brushing her gloved fingers along his cheek like it wasaffection—I saw it.
His jaw locked. His spine turned to steel. His gaze finally shifted to hers. And hers softened, cruel and cold.
“My beautiful son,” she said, voice smooth. Familiar. Anddeadly.“How you’ve grown.”
I couldn’t breathe. My body turned to ice.
“You’re—” My voice cracked. “You’re hismother.”
She didn’t turn. Didn’t deny it. Didn’t say a word to me. She just looked at Rafael like he was a ruined thing she once owned and was now ready to destroy.
