My scream is muffled by his large hand and he holds me tighter, pulling me closer into his hard chest, his strong fingers digging into my skin.
The sound of his voice shushing me as I kick out, butting my head uselessly against the wall of muscle I’m pressed to—that sound is what calms me. I’ve heard it before.
Daniel.
My body relaxes slowly, barely held up by my weak legs. Adrenaline still courses through my veins, but consciously I’m aware that it’s him. The man who grabbed me and held me tight, it’s only Daniel.
“Don’t scream,” he repeats, his lips close to the shell of my ear. So close that his warm breath tickles my neck and sends goosebumps down my shoulder. Too fucking close. He didn’t just startle me; he scared the shit out of me.
I’m slow to remove my fingers from his forearm, one by one, knowing my sharp nails are digging into his arms. Blood is everywhere and so many stabs of pain race through my body, I’d rather be numb. Numb after everything that just happened.
It’s only then that he loosens his grip and slowly moves in front of me, a hand still gripping my wrist.
“What are you doing?” The words rush from me in a single breath, but Daniel doesn’t answer. As my heart pounds harder, he only observes me closely, noting my expression. The night air feels colder, and it’s so much darker now that he’s here than it was just a moment ago.
He looks behind me before meeting my gaze to ask, “Were you going to run?”
Of everything that he could have asked me just now, this question brings me more guilt than I’ll ever admit. With Eli lying dead on the ground behind us, Addison upstairs somewhere, hiding from everything that’s just happened, the fact I even thought about running makes me sick to my stomach. I could have. I could have run and left all of this behind like a horrid nightmare.
And I seriously considered it too.
“No,” I whisper the word, not knowing if it’s the truth or a lie. The nip of the evening air licks along my exposed skin as I stand in the open doorway of the safe house. The night is dark and unforgiving, much like Daniel’s gaze. I can’t hold it, knowing the emotions I’m feeling are written on my face.
Taking half a step back, I feel the pain of a small cut on my heel shoot up my leg, but it’s nothing. Nothing compared to the pain of knowing what happened. All the small scrapes I got from the broken window, shattered from bullets, mean nothing.
War is here. The deafening sounds of gunshots have come and gone. But death has only just begun.
“What happened?” I voice the question with raw pain present in every whispered word. “Carter?” I ask him and open my eyes to meet his as they soften, then add, “My father?”
“Your father didn’t come. Neither did Nikolai.” His answer is clearly spoken and holds no pretense into what his thoughts are as his eyes roam over my face.
Before I can speak Carter’s name again, feeling the familiar pain of loss already numbing my heart, he says, “Carter’s fine. The Talvery men took a hit coming here. They should have known better.”
Talvery men.
Men I’m supposed to be loyal to, and allies with. I don’t know what to feel or who the real enemy is anymore. I just want it all to stop.
The breath I didn’t know I was holding finally escapes, slipping through my parted lips as I lean against the doorway, letting the cool air drift along my heated face. But my throat is tight, the words and emotions tangled together and trying to escape me all at once.
“How many…?” I start to ask, but can’t finish my question with the knot in my throat. How many died tonight?
“A lot,” Daniel answers me and my eyes whip to his, demanding more. “Dozens, Aria.”
I grip the top of my pajama shirt, balling the fabric together right at my chest, twisting it and wishing I could steal the pain away but it stays, growing with every beat.
I won’t cry, even though a part of me wishes for nothing but to mourn. I’ve failed. And the very notion leads to a sarcastic response in the form of a hiss from the back of my mind. As if you ever had the power to stop this.
“Do you want to leave?” Daniel asks me, and the question is one I hold on to, craving the thought of running to take my mind elsewhere. Somewhere away from the thoughts of betrayal and mourning.
My lips part, but no words come out. Not at first. Daniel looks behind me once again, down the hall and to the front door of the large estate. He’s waiting for someone to come, and I know deep in my gut this conversation needs to be finished before that person arrives. “I don’t know,” I answer him honestly and his gaze returns to me.