Page 126 of Gravehouse

I counter it, stepping back, the wound on my side screaming.

I’ve always said I wasn’t a runner. I charge headfirst into everything that chases me, but this time?—

I fucking run.

Asher

Ivy sprintsbarefoot across the grass, disappearing through the clearing of trees.

“You gonna chase her?” Atlas asks from behind me. “Or just watch her disappear?”

I don’t answer.

Out of all the things I thought she would do when she finally figured it out, running wasn’t one of them. Murder? Yes. Run? No.

Dovecrest was bullshit. I knew it the second I laid eyes on her again.

Time doesn’t heal all wounds, especially the ones that tell you they love you.

“She knows,” I say instead. “About…me.”

Atlas exhales. “Then she’s running fromyou, not Emeric.”

I flip him off without turning. “No shit.”

He steps beside me, shoulder brushing mine. “You want me to bring her back?”

“No.”

He pauses, shuffling his feet. “You want me to kill her…”

The corner of my lip twitches. “Touch her and I’ll gut you.”

Atlas barks out a laugh. “Just checking to make sure we actually are on the same page. Also, I ain’t about to run through the forest, so if you think?—“

“—shut the fuck up, Atlas.” I head back inside because if I hear another fucking sound from my brother my mom’s gonna be down a kid.

Atlas looks between me and the spot Ivy ran through. “Yo, you can’t just leave her out there, Ash. She’ll fucking die!”

I ignore him.

“Ash!” he yells again, but I slam the door closed, cutting him off. I’m not worried about her dying. If she got too cold she’d slide into the hot springs she stumbled across a while ago, or she’d just come back. Her training means she can probably handle temperatures that would kill anyone else. So as per usual, Atlas is being dramatic.

Khloe flies up from the sofa, Camille right beside her.

“Jesus. Did everyone fucking wake up?”

“What is happening?” Camille asks, eyes wide and face pale.

So this is what fear looks like. Something Ivy could never feel because I wouldneverfucking kill her. She just doesn’t know it yet.

Camille stumbles back, catching herself on a chair. “Asher?”

Too late.

I fist the hair at the back of her head, tearing the phone from her hand before tossing her at Khloe.

Khloe catches her without effort. “And what the hell do you think I’m gonna do with her?”