Page 45 of Reign By Wrath

Wilder scooped me giggling into his arms and dropped on the hammock, holding me close. “How’d I do?” he whispered, kissing the soft spot under my ear. “Did I take your mind off it?”

“Yeah.” I burrowed under his chin. “Why are you so good at everything you do, O’Rourke?”

“It’s going to be okay, Luna. I promise.” His fingertips glided down my spine, rippling goose bumps on my back. “In the end, we’ll make it all right.”

I didn’t say anything. The two of us just swung for a while, holding each other while we hung on to this peaceful, perfect moment for as long as we could.

Lucien, his cane, and a deep-purple vest with matching coattails stepped out onto the porch.

“Luna, are you ready to go? Your ride’s here.”

Wilder and I untangled ourselves from each other and got dressed. My mind left our steamy, perfect world too quick. It was time to return to the real one—where my sister was dead, and the demon who caused it still ran free.

I kissed Wilder and Lucien goodbye, then left around the side of the building instead of going through the house. Only Wilder knew what I was about to do. I couldn’t chance the others seeing my face, reading the misery in my eyes, asking what was wrong, or changing my mind.

This had to be done. The longer this battle with Everleigh continued, the longer my eyes opened to the truth. Choice is an illusion. In war, there is only sacrifice.

Ronin idled in front of the beach house—a silent, intimidating presence that smothered the whole car. Throughout the ride, I stared at the back of his head, wondering who he was in his real life and why he stepped out of it to chauffeur a teenage girl around. My father had to trust him since he entrusted my safety to Ronin.

Was there a file on Ronin on my father’s laptop? Was he holding something over him that ensured his obedience until the end of time? Would Wolf O’Rourke use that leverage to put the boot on the throat of this silent, scarred man who was protecting me?

“Ronin?”

A slight turn of his head was the only indication that he heard me and was listening.

“I know a little of what my father has done to become leader of the Rogues. I was told that you guys both hate and love him. Which is it for you?”

His reply was immediate.

“I hate Alistair Burkhardt.”

“Oh.” I sank back in my seat, head falling forward. Maybe it wasn’t a betrayal. How could I betray a man I didn’t know?

“But.”

Blinking, I raised my head. “But?”

“But,” Ronin said, “I’ll die for him.”

We didn’t say more for the rest of the drive. There was nothing more to say.

Ronin dropped me off in front of the gate. Like Alistair wanted, Frank saw me coming up the drive and opened the gate without comment. I was welcome in the Burkhardt mansion at any time.

My ancestral home.

I thought about that during the long walk to the front doors. What would it have been like to be a Burkhardt? Alistair told me that in a family like his, the whole family stays together. Lives together.

I would’ve grown up right alongside Saylor. My best friends would’ve been Gabriella, Katie, Piper, and Everleigh too. All those fun, giggly adventures Saylor and her friends talked about in those texts. I would’ve shared in those just as much as their cruel pranks. Family vacations in Cabo taken together. Fancy private schools, ours to conquer.

An entire alternative life that was so close but out of my reach.

I placed my foot on the first step and the front door opened. Alistair smiled at me from the threshold.

“You didn’t have to walk. I would’ve driven down to the gate and picked you up.”

“It’s okay. I didn’t mind the walk.”

“Come in,” he said, taking my hand. “Your mom told me your favorite food is breakfast food. I had Chef make us eggs Benedict and chocolate chip pancakes.”

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