22. Elara

Chapter 22

Elara

I slip from the safety of Maverick's bedroom, looking upon my childhood home with new eyes. Each shadowed, cobwebbed corner of the grand estate seems to whisper tales of deceit and power now.

As I tiptoe towards the staircase, each wooden step downward offers a cold kiss to my bare feet, a stark reminder of the dark underworld that lies beneath my family's noble facade.

Maverick's message, his warning about the Sovereigns' grip on Titan Falls history and beyond, is as real to me as the manor's bitter draft seeping through my nightgown.

As I follow the sound of low voices and low laughter, unease bunches the muscles in my stomach. They're in the dining room, the crumbling gothic architecture a stark reminder of what once was. The grand arched windows are shrouded in tattered drapes, their opulence now faded and forgotten. The chandelier above casts eerie shadows across the cracked plaster walls, a silent witness to the room's decay after my father's death and Mom's descent into madness.

Entering the dining hall, I find the guys clustered around the bar cart, coated with dust from disuse, but all decanters filled and untouched from more than two decades ago when Dad died.

Wilder casually shrugs off his leather jacket, draping the supple material over the head dining chair as he rolls those broad shoulders. Kaspian leans back on a side chair, long legs stretched out as he loosens his tie with one finger, the subtle shift exposing the taut column of his throat. Even stoic Axe seems to relax minutely, chiseled forearms resting on the table's edge, the gash on his face clotted to the point it's almost black. Only Cav remains tense, powerful muscles visibly rippling beneath his shirt as he copes with the worst wound out of all of them. So far.

I drink in their varied states of casual undress, feeling an insistent flush creeping up my neck. Unbidden, I squeeze my thighs together as indecent thoughts cast my mind spiraling. How easily they adapt to confusion and disorder, oblivion their only coping method. And yet ... I find my own craving for escape mounting.

My eyes meet Wilder's, and I hesitate for a moment, unsure of how to broach the situation and what I've just read. Biting my lip, I steel myself and walk over to them.

Their veneer of carefree relaxation doesn't fully conceal the strain that runs beneath the surface, a constant undercurrent that seems to bind them together. It strikes me that they've grown so accustomed to bad news and severe punishment, they snatch any pockets of time to retain their sanity and hold onto the scraps of humanity they still possess.

"Sweetwitch," Wilder greets me, his voice smooth and at its lowest decibel.

I swallow hard, trying to find my voice. "I... I have something to share with you all."

Wilder's eyebrow arches, his curiosity piqued by my shaken state. Leaning forward, the corner of his mouth quirks into a small, mischievous smile. "What'd you do? You can always confess your sins to me."

My gaze swings between the guys, each one a man I can't quite decipher. Every time I think I can trust them, they deliberately knock me off-balance.

I still don't— can't— trust them.

It's only my brother I have any remaining faith in, and he's dead.

"Something Maverick wrote," I start cautiously. "He mentioned our late father was a Sovereign."

My heart clenches as I leave out the specifics about the missing half of the Heart's location. "He said there are three titles they hold—the High Sovereign, the Scourge Sovereign, and the Silent Sovereign. I don't know which one my dad was, but it's clear now why Maverick was dragged into the Court. He's a legacy, like all of you."

I expected shock, or anger, maybe both, when I revealed what my father was involved in, what he did , before he came home to his wife and two young children and read storybooks to Maverick, embodying all the cartoon voices.

I gaze into their faces, searching for a reaction. Wilder meets my eyes, his expression impassive.

Kaspian's fingers tighten almost imperceptibly on his glass. Axe's jaw clenches, the muscles working beneath his skin. Only Cav remains motionless, his eyes fixed on some distant point.

The silence stretches, thick and suffocating, broken only by the faint creaking of the aged wood. I shift my weight, the floorboards groaning in protest, as I wait for their reaction.

Wilder's the first to speak, his voice light. "A Sovereign, huh? That explains a lot. And we always called the silent one … silent. So points to them for creativity."

The boys exchange glances, their expressions shifting from cold apathy to various states of resignation. They're used to unwelcome surprises and have learned to ride the wave.

Kaspian murmurs, "Our fathers' sins follow us like annoying puppies, it seems."

"Does this change anything?" Cav asks gruffly.

"I'm not sure yet," I admit, glancing at each of them. "Do you know who took my father's place? He was killed for defecting, trying to save us from?—"

No . Not yet. Don't mention your crucial link to the Heart's ritual.

"—trying to escape from the Court," I finish.

"We never knew who the Sovereigns are and never will," Cav answers. "Their anonymity is closely guarded because of how powerful and influential they are outside of their leadership of the Court."

"That Maverick discovered your Dad's high rank is a feat in itself," Wilder adds.

Axe remains quiet, staring out of the window into the overgrown, wilted garden.

"Most of those documents uploaded into the drive," I say, "were from my dad. Maverick found everything Dad was trying to collect as proof to use against them."

"And provide evidence to whom?" Kaspian asks, slowly raising his gaze from his glass to me. "Did your father have an outside savior offering to help him? Because no one escapes the Court. Well, they do, but … not kindly."

His eyelids lower after that statement and he glances away.

"I don't know," I answer honestly. "Maverick thought maybe there was someone in the FBI, but he had no evidence and couldn't say who."

"Show me the letter." Cav points through the wide double-doors and to the staircase. "I'd like to see this in Maverick's words."

My throat constricts at the thought. I didn't tell them everything.

Their collective focus presses in on me, demanding answers I'm not ready to give. The missing half of the Heart is in Sarah Anderton's vault, and I have no idea where that is. I reason that I can delay giving that information to the guys because I want to talk to Clover first, who has basically become a historian on Anderton lore, and see what she has to say. Not that I trust her over the others, but…

Okay. I do. She's a woman who was in the exact situation I'm currently in, with four intimidating, primal, trained men who always expect to get their way, yet she somehow managed to get hers to heel.

Now that's magic.

I lick my lips, my mouth suddenly dry.

"That's all he mentioned about our father," I lie, the words bitter on my tongue. "The rest was ... personal. About how much he'll miss me and that he wishes he could've protected me more."

That much is honest, at least.

Cav's eyes narrow further, twin flames of suspicion in their depths. He opens his mouth to press, but Axe cuts him off.

"We're already wanted men," Axe points out, his steel unwavering, even with the fresh knife cut down one side of his face. "Especially now that we've decided to ignore any further summons from the Sovereigns until we possess both halves of the ruby and figure out what they want with it and how to bring them down. Maverick was on our side. Darian Wraithwood was, too. And they're both dead. We need to stay focused on our mission before we're next."

It's the most Axe has said in weeks.

Cav purses his lips, a muscle ticking beneath the stubbled skin. For a moment, I think he'll argue, but then he nods.

I release a breath. Axe's intervention bought me a reprieve, but it won't last. I have to get my answers, and soon.

Kaspian finally stirs.

"And you had no idea?" he asks me, his voice rough with an emotion I can't quite place.

I shake my head. "None. Maverick never told me, and I never suspected."

The admission tastes like betrayal, like I'm somehow at fault for not knowing, for not seeing the signs.

Kaspian rises from his chair, his movements fluid, graceful, and sling-free. I wonder how he's really doing with that wound in his shoulder, even though he refuses to treat it as nothing more than a scratch.

I'm able to muse for a few more seconds before Wilder tilts my world upside-down again.

"Better get to giving us a tour of all the traps on the first floor, sweetwitch, because we'll be staying here for a while."

I blink at him. "I'm sorry. What?"

"Yep." He grins. "We live here now."

Live here? In this crumbling mansion filled with ghosts and sadness and … me?

"You can't be serious," I manage. "This place is falling apart. It's not safe."

Wilder's grin only widens, a flash of white against tan. "Dead serious. This place is a fortress, the Court's hunting us, and we need a base of operations."

I look to the others, searching for any sign that this is some kind of twisted joke. Kaspian's expression remains apathetic, but Axe gives a slight nod, confirming Wilder's words.

"But... this is my home," I protest, my voice cracking. "You can't just decide to move in."

Cav strides towards me, his presence dominating the space between us. "It's the safest place for us right now. Your brother's intel changes everything."

Kaspian nods, setting his glass down with a clink. "Your family's estate is secluded, defensible. It'll serve our purposes well enough."

I bite the side of my cheek. Hard. The thought of these men, these dangerous, unpredictable men, living under the same roof as me, sends tremors in places inside me that I didn't even know they could travel to.

As a last resort, I look to Axe, pleading evident in my eyes. But he gives a slight nod, confirming his brothers' words.

Worse, I can't deny the logic behind their decision.

"Fine," I concede. "But we need ground rules. This isn't going to be some kind of frat house."

Kaspian arches an eyebrow. "You think so little of us?"

I meet his stare head-on. "I don't know what to think of you. Any of you."

"Good. We've lingered long enough." Kaspian's sharp tone cuts through my insult, molten green eyes purposefully staying on mine. "You still need to show us the remainder of the manor's ... defenses, which we'll keep up, since they are oddly effective against any intrusion."

My mind reluctantly catalogues everything my mother installed throughout the mansion. The tripwires. The concealed poison-coated spikes. The fake doorways leading to nowhere. The floorboards rigged to collapse beneath the weight of a man. Remnants of my mother's brilliant, yet troubled, mind, designed to push her imaginary intruders to their limits.

The thought of explaining these lethal surprises to four highly combustible men while wearing nothing but a sheer nightgown is overwhelming, but there's no one else left to do it.

"Alright," I agree with a drawn-out sigh. "But you need to stay close and do exactly as I say."

Wilder leans against the wall and folds his arms, exposing a tantalizing glimpse of toned forearms. "Then you'd better take point, sweetwitch. Unless you require some..." His tongue darts out to graze his lower lip. "Motivation."

The blatant challenge resonates straight to my core. Rising to meet it, the corners of his lips curl into a half-smile that sends a familiar jolt down my spine, stirring something within me. I've spent so much time dreading them, fearing the havoc they've brought into my life, but there's no denying their allure.

I clear my throat of non-existent phlegm. "Let's get to it then. There are eight on this floor. The first one is?—"

Cav moves closer, his cologne mixing with the antiseptic coating his abdomen.

"We're not just going to walk through," he says. His eyes blaze with a wickedness that no Sovereign will ever be able to carve out of him.

His attention shifts to Wilder, who smiles over the rim of his drink. "It's called turning lemons into lemonade, doll."

My heartbeat stutters as realization dawns. They plan to make their living here an occasion for... games.

The sort of games men like them play.

A shiver dances across my skin as I turn to the hallway. "Try to keep up, then."

"I have a feeling you're going to enjoy being in charge far too much, little witch," Wilder rumbles behind me.

"If you're so confident," I toss over my shoulder, trying to keep my voice steady, "why don't we make a challenge out of it? Each trap you successfully navigate earns you a reward."

Cav's ice-blue eyes flicker with interest as he moves beside me. "And what might those rewards be?"

My body instinctively responds to his proximity.

Heat creeps up my neck. Inwardly cursing myself for showing how easily they can turn me on, I put space between us by striding into the lead. "Let's begin."

They follow silently, apex predators stalking their cute, fluffy prey.

I deliberately trigger the first tripwire, unleashing a barrage of darts which I nimbly avoided by dropping down.

But of course, their reflexes are faster than mine, their lithe bodies already hunched near the floor. But Wilder and Axe share a white-hot look as my short nightgown rides up over my admittedly pert derriere.

"Eyes front, boys," I say with a half-trembling smile. "You'll need your focus for this next one."

I would've never believed it if it were not currently happening, but my mother's defenses are actually giving me confidence and a needed, pleasurable distraction from the abandoned circus my life has become.

Sashaying further ahead, I come to an abrupt halt before a pressure plate camouflaged in the floorboards. "This one's for you, Axe."

The stoic giant steps up without hesitation, intense eyes questioning. Slowly, I circle him until I stand flush against his rigid front, my petite frame contrasting his powerful one.

"Going to need that exquisite control," I breathe against his ear, relishing the way his pupils dilate instantly. Dragging my palms along his sculpted torso through his soft cashmere sweater, I guide Axe's stance with excruciating patience until...

"There," I finally exhale, lips brushing his nape as I withdraw. "One step at a time. Don't let me down."

A sterling hurricane glazes over his eyes as Axe advances with robotic restraint, every movement a lesson in preternatural discipline as he successfully avoids springing the plate's trap. Only the faintest rasp of his harsh breathing gives away the strain.

My triumphant gaze falls on the remaining men, issuing a villainous challenge. "Shall we see who's next to rise to the occasion?"

"Kaspian," Wilder says, still sipping his drink. His voice is uneven, with a touch of amusement. "You're up."

To my surprise, Kaspian agrees, his expression challenging me as he stretches out one hand. "And what's my obstacle, beastie?"

I point east.

My mother's twisted genius manifests itself in curious ways. Each trap is intricate and unique in design. Memorizing every trigger point has become a rite of passage in this gothic manor.

Kaspian's moss-colored gaze flits between me and the trap ahead—a web of homemade laser triggers requiring nimble movements to bypass.

He moves closer—until the distance between us is nearly nonexistent. Raising an eyebrow at him teasingly while my heart tries to leap into his gorgeous mouth, I instruct, "You'll want to be as fluid as water for this one."

He matches my daring gaze with his own sardonic slant, the corners of his mouth lifting ever so slightly—a beast amused by his plaything's brazenness.

He inches forward, movements as graceful as they are lethal. His tall frame ducks and lifts effortlessly between each beam—the macabre dance enhanced by the thrill of not knowing what would be triggered if he failed.

Once he's safely on the other side, I cast a raised brow Wilder and Cav's way.

"Your turns," I quip.

My voice is teasing but my heart is a ticking time bomb in my chest.

But Cav doesn't move, regarding me with an inscrutable study. His gaze feels like an electric charge on my skin, and despite myself, I find it hard to look away from his mesmerizing, lightning blue eyes.

"And what," he murmurs, words dripping like warm honey, "would be the reward for successfully navigating this labyrinth you've got us in? You've yet to say."

His voice vibrates through my body, each syllable laced with a promise of something wild and unpredictable. The tension burns in the air like an open flame. The men exchange glances.

"Continue on and find out," I answer smoothly with a shrug that lifts my nightgown a fraction higher up my thighs. My tone is light but flirty, aiming to keep them intrigued, yet off-balance.

Cav closes the space between us and I hold my breath as he leans down to whisper in my ear, "We'll be expecting something ... satisfying."

His breath tickles. A quiet moan almost escapes my throat.

I tilt my head away, a needed escape. "Careful. Keep looking at me like that and you might miss a trap."

Wilder chuckles, the sound velvet over gravel. "Our witch has a point, Cav. Best keep your eyes on the prize."

"Oh, I am," Cav murmurs.

The heat in his eyes sets me alight.

With a smirk, I saunter into the next room, the men close behind.

"Watch your step," I warn, halting before a jagged hole. Rotted planks jut like broken teeth. "Unless you fancy a tumble into the basement."

Kaspian presses close, quickening my breath. "And deprive you of our company? Never."

Pulse hammering, I navigate around the hole. The men follow, their steps precise, efficient. In their element.

Kaspian's fingers graze the small of my back, as if he can't resist playing with the thin material of my nightie despite himself.

"Are all the traps so obvious?"

"Only to those who know where to look." I nod at an innocuous section of wall. "Right, Axe?"

The giant freezes mid-step. He scrutinizes the wall, nostrils flaring. With a grunt, he changes trajectory, avoiding the pressure plate by a hairsbreadth.

"Well done," I praise, fighting a grin. "Seems you boys are quick studies."

"We have incentive," Wilder says, his teeth flashing again. "A witch's favor is a rare gift."

"Who says you've earned it?"

"Haven't we?" He spreads his arms, encompassing the traps they've breached. "We've danced to your tune admirably."

I pause before an innocuous door, hand on the knob. "One last challenge, then. Make it through this room unscathed, and perhaps you'll get your reward."

Kaspian leans a shoulder on the wall, arms crossed. "You enjoy playing with us."

"You make it so easy." I wink, pretending that's how it is between us, then twist the knob.

The door swings open, hinges shrieking. Darkness yawns beyond the threshold.

I gesture grandly. "After you."

Axe moves first, his tall form slipping into the black.

Kaspian follows, silent as a wraith. Wilder throws me a heated glance before he too is swallowed.

Cav remains, gaze intent upon my face. "And what of my prize, butterfly?"

"You assume you've won it."

"I'm a very determined man." He invades my space, his warmth engulfing me. "And I always collect on my debts."

My breath stutters. "Do you?"

"Yes." His lips hover over mine, a whisper of contact. "And you owe me."

He claims my mouth in a harsh kiss, his tongue delving deep. I moan, clutching his shoulders. He grips my hips, grinding me against the hard ridge of his arousal.

A curse shatters the air, followed by a tremendous crash.

We wrench apart. My lips tingle, bruised from his assault. Cav's eyes glitter in the dark, a panther deprived of his meal.

" Really?" Wilder barks from the room. "A fucking bear trap?"