Across the Vanishing Sky (Starlight Grove, #1)(76)

“You’re doing it, Hellion. Nice and easy. Follow me.” Dex kept leading my breaths. Finally, I reached three. Then he extended it to four. Finally, five.

My hands and arms started to unlock. The tingling in my fingers and toes began to subside.

“That’s my girl,” Dex whispered. “That’s my fucking girl. She’ll battle back from hell if she has to.”

His praise was like a balm to flesh that had been ravaged.

“Nova,” I croaked, loud enough that only he could hear.

Dex stiffened, instantly on alert. “O, can you get some water for your mom?”

He looked unsure for a moment and then nodded, running for the kitchen.

“What happened?” Dex pressed.

He’d probably missed the note amid the dropped coffee and trying to get to me.

“Necklace outside. It’s Nova’s. There’s blood,” I rasped, my brain still not quite functioning on all cylinders.

Dex’s entire form vibrated with silent fury.

But I could only think about all the horrible possibilities that blood could mean. Nova hurt. Nova tortured. Nova dead.





31





DEX





The cabin swirled with people now, making the space feel infinitely smaller. The sheriff’s department. A couple of crime scene techs from the county. And my whole family, minus Orion. Mav had taken Owen and Yeti into my yard to play. He’d gone begrudgingly, knowing something distinctly not good was up. But Mav had distracted him by pulling out some Nerf guns from his truck. I had no idea why the hell my brother had them. But he did, and I was grateful.

Waylon ambled into the living room with a camp mug that read Drink coffee, then find Bigfoot. “You’ve got quite the mug collection. I picked my favorite.” He grinned at Brae as he set the mug down. “Chamomile tea with some spiced honey. My own blend.”

Brae sent him an unsteady smile. “This going to burn my mouth off?”

Waylon let out a guffaw. “I know you’re made of way stronger stuff than this tea.”

She was. Brae was made of pure steel—the kind that still managed to lock a door despite nearly passing out from a panic attack. The kind that pulled it together to assure her kid she was okay, even though everything in her was breaking.

“Thank you.” She wrapped her hands around the mug and held it to her. There was a blanket draped over her lap, but despite that, the tea, and the already eighty-degree weather, she shivered.

I fucking hated that. It stoked the rage I’d shoved down deep. I wanted to find whoever had done this and ruin them. No, more than ruin them. I wanted to hurt them. My father’s genes were alive and well in me. I’d always known it, but this was a brutal reminder.

“You want anything to eat?” Wylder asked, worry etched into his face.

Brae shook her head. “Thank you, but I don’t think I could stomach much right now.”

My hands fisted at my sides, and a heavy palm landed on my shoulder. Kol. He squeezed hard. “She’s safe,” he whispered. “Breathe through it.”

Always looking out for us. Always knowing when one of us was hitting our limit.

Heavy footsteps sounded behind me. Two sets. I turned to see Roger and Travis heading our way. Both had a serious set to their features, but Roger’s anger broke through a little more.

He stepped forward, clearing his throat. “How are you feeling, B?”

I tried to swallow down the annoyance at the fact that he’d given her a nickname of sorts. Because I didn’t have a right to that emotion. I didn’t have a right to anything when it came to Brae.

“Much better,” she lied. “I’m sorry…sorry about being such a mess when you got here.”

“Don’t you dare apologize,” Travis ordered. “This would be too much for anyone.”

“He’s right,” Roger agreed. “You need to cut yourself a little slack.”

Waylon patted her shoulder. “You’ll be back up to fighting strength in no time.”

“Do you think you’re ready to walk us through what happened?” Roger asked.

“You don’t have to if you need some time,” I bit out, sounding more than a little pissed off. I was usually better at masking, hiding the rage that lived inside me. But not today. Not when someone was messing with Brae, threatening her, scaring the hell out of her.

Roger sent me a shut-the-hell-up look.

“I’d rather get it over with,” Brae said quietly.

I hovered a few feet from the couch, but I wanted to go to her. Touch her. Sit next to her. Pull her onto my lap and cradle her to me. But I didn’t. Because I couldn’t be trusted. Not when there was this much darkness swirling inside me.

Roger pulled out his phone. “Is it okay if I record?”

Brae nodded woodenly. “Sure.”

An elbow hit me square in the gut, and I turned to glower at Wylder. “What?” I hissed.

He inclined his head toward Brae. “Be there for her, asshole.”

His words were only whispers, but each one hit like a carefully placed blow. I didn’t respond. Couldn’t. Because going to Brae now felt as risky as tangling with a grizzly.

“Then I will,” Wylder clipped, starting toward her.