Total pages in book: 106
Estimated words: 99917 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 500(@200wpm)___ 400(@250wpm)___ 333(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 99917 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 500(@200wpm)___ 400(@250wpm)___ 333(@300wpm)
“Together,” he adds, the word hanging between us like a bridge over eight years of manufactured hatred.
“Together,” I echo, testing how it feels.
Not comfortable, not yet, but possible.
We move forward, broken but somehow more whole than we’ve been in decades, blood brothers in more ways than one. The night swallows us as we enter the woods, following the path Lilian took. Our girl is out there somewhere.
And for once, the Hayes twins are on the same side.
God help anyone who gets in our way.
“Liliannnn…” I call into the empty quiet of the woods.
I risk a look at my brother.
My fucking brother. It feels good to say that, to accept it.
He just grins and swipes a fresh dribble of blood from his split lip. “Let’s find our girl.”
TWENTY-TWO
ARIES
The forest breathes around me, alive with shadows and secrets. Blood still dries on my knuckles, mine and my brother’s intermingled—violent proof of everything spoken and unspoken. The pain in my ribs is a dull, steady throb, anchoring me to this strange moment of clarity. Arson walks beside me, our steps finally in sync after five years of silence and betrayal.
“She went this way,” I say, tracking the faint disturbance in the underbrush. The rain has washed most of it away, but I don’t need much. I’ve always been able to find her. Like something inside me is tethered to her—magnetic, primal, unwilling to let go.
“Remember, she’s pissed off and probably scared,” Arson says. “She also doesn’t know we’ve worked things out.”
I nod once, jaw tight, that same pull dragging me forward like a leash around my throat.
“Nope, she thinks we’re still trying to kill each other.”
“There’s nothing to say we won’t try to kill each other again in the future.” Arson grins.
He’s right. Even if we’ve dealt with some of our issues, nothing says we won’t collide again. If anything, it’s likely. We both know there’s no undoing the past. No erasing the years I spent believing my brother was dead. Years of suffocating guilt. Of rage so hollow it nearly consumed me. There’s still a lot of bad blood and anger that we have to sort through, but there is one thing we can stand together on, and that’s Lilian.
I crouch low, fingers brushing a broken twig, sap still bleeding from the split. My voice drops. “This is fresh.”
Arson kneels beside me, eyes narrowing as he scans the ground. “Look.” He points at a partial footprint pressed into the mud. The small, unmistakable outline of a shoe.
My heart kicks inside my chest. Hard. She’s out here. Alone. Vulnerable. My mind spirals out of control with all the possible what-ifs. What if she’s hurt? What if she ran into an animal? What if someone else found her before we did? The panic builds into something jagged and hungry. It twists with urgency and obsession.
Once I have her in my arms, it’ll stop.
I inhale sharply, and beneath the petrichor and damp earth, I catch the lingering scent of her shampoo. It’s faint. “She’s close by,” I say, voice dropping to a growl that scrapes my throat raw. Deep inside my chest, something dark unfurls.
It’s possessive and brutal, this need to protect. It’s not just desire I feel for Lilian but an instinct to claim her. To take and never let her fucking go.
“I don’t know if you feel the same, but I want you to know that I love her,” I say aloud, the words hanging in the damp air between us.
Arson’s eyes meet mine, understanding passing between us. “So do I.”
I wait for the jealousy to sink in, but it never comes. There’s nothing but truth hanging between us. We both love her—differently yet the same.
“She’s all that matters,” I whisper, and he gives me a nod.
“You can come out of your hiding spot, Lilian,” I call out, my voice echoing through the trees.
“We’ve stopped fighting,” Arson adds from a short distance away. “And we’ll always find you.”
It’s not a threat, but a promise.
We both spot her at the same time. She’s sitting on a fallen log, her face in her hands. So she wasn’t running. She was waiting. We step into the clearing, and I approach first. But when I reach out, she flinches away.
“Don’t touch me right now.” Then her eyes snap up to mine, then catalog the cuts, bruises, all the harm we did to each other. “What the fuck?”
I shrug. “We’re brothers. We’re going to fight.”
“You both could have killed each other. What the hell are you thinking?” Then she shakes her head hard. “No, what the hell am I thinking that you two could get over your issues for me? That somehow I could be more important than your hate? Hubris, I think they call it?” She stands and adjusts her pants. “I’m not doing this anymore. I warned you both if you couldn’t at least be civil to each other that I would walk away, so that’s what I’m doing.”