War of Hearts (True Immortality) - S Young Page 0,131

scars around her wrists.

“You’ll never be free of the marks I’ve made on your life.”

Until the moment Ashforth said that, Thea had begun to bear her scars like a warrior would. Because of Conall. He made her feel proud of them. They were evidence of everything she’d endured. She’d especially been proud of the scar across her wrist where she’d cut it with the iron blade to save Conall’s life.

Now it was concealed by the much wider scar caused by Ashforth’s shackles.

Marks from Ashforth to match those on her back and the one on her lower gut.

He’d stolen their meaning from Thea as soon as he’d turned them into brands. And now, if she lived, she was stuck with the fucking things, always remembering it was him who had done this to her.

“You’re awake.”

She startled, whipping around to look behind her.

The bedchamber was small, the exposed brick covered with paintings and tapestries, much like it was in the great hall.

Standing in the gothic doorway was Devon Ashforth.

Thea drank him in, nostalgia hitting her in wave after wave.

She could see them running around the Ashforths’ Hampton estate, playing in the ocean, laughing together at school.

Devon was older now, of course. His jawline no longer soft with boyishness but angular and covered with a little designer stubble. There was an unkemptness to his blond hair that matched his style, which wasn’t preppy like it had been six years ago. He wore faded blue jeans and a fitted sweater that showed enough of his physique to tell Thea he worked out. The hardness of his body matched the pitiless expression in his eyes.

This was not the Devon she’d left behind.

Thea slowly stood to face him. “I didn’t kill her.”

The muscle in his jaw flexed but to her relief, he nodded. “I know. My father thinks I’m an idiot. But I bribed the guards who were there … I know she died helping you escape, and that it was one of his men who put the bullet in her head.”

Despite her gratitude that Devon knew the truth, Thea couldn’t understand why he was here. And why he was looking at her as if she meant nothing to him when once upon a time, he’d loved her like a sister. “Then why are you here?”

“I told him I wanted to be here to watch him make you suffer for her death.”

Thea took a wary step back.

Devon shook his head and pushed the door open wider. “I just wanted to be here to finish what she started.”

“Devon,” Thea whispered.

“End this, Thea, or he’ll never stop.” He lifted his hand and in it was a gun. It had a silencer on it. “I’ve taken care of the guards in this part of the castle. They’re gearing up to get out of here before your pack arrives to attempt rescue, so they’re distracted. I said I’d watch over you while they organize our departure. Instead, I’ll lead you to the great hall and then I’ll trick my father into coming to you. Alone.”

Sickness roiled in Thea’s gut.

This was it.

This was the moment.

“Are you sure you want to be a part of this, Devon? You don’t know how this will affect you.”

Rage flashed across his face. “My mother was murdered, and it’s his fault. His obsession led to this. Let’s go.”

There were two dead guards outside her room, bullet holes in their heads. Devon must have been quick with the gun. Thea glanced away, despair washing over her. What had Ashforth done to his family? Tortured his adoptive daughter, inadvertently murdered his wife, and turned his son into a cold-blooded killer. It was horrifyingly tragic.

They hurried down the narrow, dark, windowless hallway and when they reached a tight, turreted staircase at the end of the hall, Devon raised a finger to his lips. Thea sent out her shadow energy that cloaked them both in silence. Being human, Devon didn’t feel it, but neither of them could be heard as they slowly took the uneven spiral stairway down to the first floor.

To their left was an archway that led to what looked like the kitchens. Thankfully, they were empty. To the right they crept past two small rooms that served as pantries, stocked to the brim with food. The dark hall was empty as they moved silently along it, coming to a small set of stairs that went up, leveled out, and then went downstairs.

Devon stopped her where a light shone on their left from a doorway. A chill wind