«Three days,»Luka agreed, taking the burner phone.
“Don’t make me regret this,”Ophelia warned. But when she turned toward the house, Luka caught the ghost of approval in her expression.
Matoskah remained behind as Ophelia disappeared through the door.
“Be careful with the hunter,”he said.“His mind... it’s dangerous. Not just to him.”
Luka nodded. He saw enough of Nick’s fractured psyche to understand the warning. But he’d also glimpsed what was worth saving beneath the damage—moments of genuine humor, curiosity, connection. The person Nick had been before someonecarved him into pieces.
«I’ll be careful,»he promised.
Matoskah followed Ophelia’s path into the house. Luka remained in the garage, feeling the weight of his choice settling across his shoulders. Three days to get Nick stable enough for transport.
His beast stirredrestlessly, content with the same certainty that drove him to help Nick in the first place.Protect,it insisted.This one is ours.
Chapter twelve
Pain is how we learn...
Nick
Nick pressed himself further beneath the breakfast nook table, his knees digging into the hardwood floor. The enclosed space felt both too exposed and not confined enough. He fought to keep his hand on his thigh rather than tucking it beneath his knee in the position that still felt like safety.
The scent of blood clung to their clothes—dark stains from the garage. With each breath, the metallic smell grew stronger, dragging him backward.
Caleb’s screams.
The memory hit without warning.
His brother’s voice echoed inside his skull, distant yet crystal clear. The sound belonged with the hunter, not with the shattered self thatcurrentlydominated his consciousness. But the memory pushed throughanyway, brutal and unavoidable.
Don’t breathe so loud. They’ll hear you. They’ll find you.
Nick made himself smaller, shoulders hunching as he tried to disappear into the corner where the cabinet met the wall.The tremors started in his fingers, traveling up his arm and spreading across his chest. His missing hand throbbed with phantom pain, fingers that nolongerexisted clenching into a fist he couldn’t control.
Be quiet. Be still. Be nothing.
The drive had been too long, the space too confined. Trapped between Luka and the vampire with white braids with no escape route, no way to run. Ophelia Graves behind the wheel—Marcus Graves’s adopted human daughter, dangerous according to Society intelligence. The walls of the van had seemed to shrink with each passing mile, oxygen thinning until his lungs burned with the effort to breathesilently.
The blood smell grew stronger, dragging him deeper into memory. Caleb’s screams grew louder, more immediate. Nick could almost feel the weight of his brother’s head in his hands, holding him still while Henderson—
“Keep him steady, Nicholas. This is for his own good.”
The sound of pliers closing around Caleb’s molar. The resistance as Henderson twisted, the sickening crack of a tooth ripping free. Blood pouring over Nick’s fingers as he held his brother’s head immobile.
“He’ll tell us where the monsters are hiding now, won’t he?”
The kitchen wavered around him, reality bending at the edges. Nick pressed his forehead against the cool floor, trying to ground himself as the room spun.
“Kitten, turn around.”
Not real. Not here. Fight it.
His lungs seized as fragments of memory crashed through his defenses. The feeding session. Four months into his captivity. Gianmarco’s mouth at his wrist.
“You’re so good for me, kitten.”Gianmarco’s voice echoed through time, silky and possessive.
Nick learned to endure the feedings. If he didn’t move or fight, they didn’t hurt as much. But that day was different. He was handcuffed to the headboard. One hand held his chin in place, the other slid down his chest, fingers trailing lower with deliberate intent.