Page 10 of Entangled

In all my efforts to do good, I seem only to cause harm. Every time I try to play the hero, I become the villain.

Perhaps I was wrong to come out here.

I bow my head... only to see Lucien’s pin fastened over my heart. His silly, bright non-regulation daffodil pin that catches the light obscenely. It always seems to wink at me right when my tiredness hits hardest. My fingers press against the pin, until I feel it cut into my flesh.

Something has to change. PerhapsIneed to.

Lucien deserves better from me, and whatever my reservations about Eden and myself being ill-matched, there is a consuming, demanding need inside me to have her back and safely nestled by my feet.

In my bed.

In my arms.

Anywhere, as long as she’s safe.

My tiredness doesn’t matter. My pain doesn’t matter. Only Eden. If it means bringing her home, then I will run myself to expiration.

I straighten, and nod once at Dom. “I will keep up.”

His eyes tighten with grim hesitation, and I raise a quelling brow.

“I don’t know what Eden is going through right now, but I think we can agree that it won’t be pleasant,” I say before he can argue further. “When we save her, she will need someone to talk to—someone to guide her through that.”

I leave unsaid that Dominic and Jaykob, in particular, distinctly lack those specific skills.

Dominic’s expression breaks. His eyes close and his jaw works as he fights to contain himself.

“We both have a job to do when we find her,” I murmur thickly. “I’m coming. I will keep up.”

The captain’s shoulders lift in a heavy breath, and he nods. “You’re coming.”

Without another word, he turns and stalks after Jaykob.

Ignoring my shaking legs, I push until I’m striding directly after him. Eden needs me, and Lucien needs Eden. Losing her would break his beautiful heart in a way that might never be repaired.

That cannot happen.

Whether it be by tracking skills, Ranger planning, light witchery, or the darkest blood magic, one way or another, we will bring Eden home.

Chapter4

Beau

Survival tip #201

Living with an open wound is dangerous.

Tend it carefully, lest you rip wide open.

I’m bringing her home, Beau, or I’m not coming home.”

“Fuck!” Tearing my eyes away from the silent trees, I snatch my fingers back from the window frame and scowl at the nasty slice across the pad of my index finger.

Damn it, that’s the second time in the last hour.

I should give up. After a week of work, I’ve finally boarded most of the windows that were shattered during the battle for Bristlebrook, but somehow, no matter how I try to keep my hands useful with work, my eyes keep making their way back to the still shadows of the woods—with those last words from Dom playing on my mind.

Rescue or vengeance. That’s his plan.

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