Page 71 of Gilded Locks
Since they had already convicted her of being a thief, she decided to borrow the book a little longer. Exiting the library, she quietly headed in the same direction the men had gone. Her boots clicked on every tile, and the high ceilings had the acoustics of an amphitheater announcing her every step.
She paused in the open foyer and stared at the front door. She could leave. Now would be the time, while they were off in their little bear club doing God knows what. She took a cautious step toward the door and hesitated.
For once, it wasn’t snowing and the sun was shining over a flawless bed of white, the distant trees encased in ice. Time froze. She’d have several hours of daylight to figure out somewhere else to hide.
Would they chase her? Catch her? Punish her?
Of course they would.
She’d given them everything they needed to go after Jordan. The next step would be to force him out of hiding, which might lead him here, back to them, back to her. If Jordan discovered where she was, he’d send her back to Whitmore—or worse.
She backed away from the door. The truth was, Jordan scared her more than three terrifying men. She was at their mercy, but also—she admitted—under their protection. And that awareness made her alliance clear. She was no longer on the Calder side. She was now working with them.
The realization stunned her. Was she actually choosing this? Choosing to stay here with them?
She glanced down at the book in her hand. Why would she care to learn Russian if she didn’t intend to survive this place? On some subconscious level, her mind was already made up. She wasn’t going back, and if this was her chance to run, there was a reason she wasn’t taking it.
Consciousness of her choice caused a subtle shift inside of her. She’d been playing this game all wrong. Used to living in survival mode, ricocheting off every command like prey driven by hunters. No matter which way she turned, another predator awaited. They liked the hunt, but she was tired of living on the run.
Her fear gave them power over her. The more she cowered and let them intimidate her, the more they would take control of her life. And she didn’t escape one prison to enter another.
Marigold straightened her shoulders. She needed to start paying better attention, being more aware. She was a part of this, whether she liked it or not. And she would not allow her life to turn into one long line of consequences.
Like black ice underfoot, every step she’d made toward stability had sent her sliding toward the subsequent collision. But she was learning. Her awareness was sharper. She might not have total autonomy here, but she wasn’t powerless.
In that moment of stark realization, she decided to reclaim some of the power she had lost. This might be their territory, but she was the catalyst. They needed her as much as she needed their protection.
Marigold pressed her palm against the cold window, watching her breath fog the glass. What if, instead of fleeing back to whatever banal life awaited her beyond the frozen forest, she’d claimed her place at their table?
She wouldn’t just hide here. She’d choose here. A home.
No, not a home. A fortress. A berloga of her own, where three apex predators stood between her and anyone who’d dare hunt her. If they trusted her, Jordan could send a hundred men and they’d never get past the front door.
Here, wrapped in fur and stone and masculine possession, she was untouchable. Not because she was weak, but because she was theirs.
The world beyond these walls wanted to silence her, cage her, break her. But inside this frozen sanctuary, she could be both precious and powerful. Protected and desired. They’d kill for any woman they believed was theirs. Fiercely protective, she saw how deep their loyalty went for their siblings. It went beyond any loyalty her own brother ever showed for her.
That was how family should behave. Family protected all members, not just the precious male heirs. The second they turned on her, abandoned her to that horrible facility, they ceased being her family. And now, she needed to claim a new one.
Why would anyone hold onto a false sense of loyalty for a family that wanted to destroy them?
These men offered protection, and they would honor their word. She’d seen the conviction in Ash’s eyes, felt it in Stone’s calculating gaze, tasted the resolute promise in the fear provoked by Hunter’s barely contained rage. Three guardians who’d tear the world apart before letting anyone touch what they claimed.
The Russian textbook weighed heavily in her hands. Not a burden, but a key. She didn’t have to be their captive. She could become their treasure.
She stared out the window, letting her warm breath fog over the frost locked outside. Not restrained, but protected. They were her shield. Like the ice-wrapped birches bending beneath their crystalline armor, frozen in a shell of glass, she was safe here, protected from the brutal wind and those who aimed to harm her.
This place, this unpredictable, harsh place, hid moments of hope. Preserved. Waiting beneath the surface for the right moment to bloom.
It was the first time in months that she gave herself permission to exhale. She didn’t have to figure out the next ten moves until she was ready. They offered her sanctuary, a place where she could heal. This was her moment to decide exactly who she wanted to be.
Not a thief. Not a liar. And not a skittish little rabbit. She was Marigold Calder. Her status might have fallen from that of an heiress to a woman on the run, but she made it far enough that she could stop fleeing and start strategizing.
She delivered the book to the room she’d last slept in, claiming the space as her own. Apparently, she wasn’t alone.
When she entered, the bed was made and there were more fresh flowers in a vase on the nightstand. Where did they find flowers in a blizzard?
That wasn’t all that changed. The drawers were now filled with clothes. Sweaters, jeans, and even silk lingerie.
