Page 63 of Irrevocably

“It’s the heart of the Scorpius constellation,” Lucien says softly. “The heart of the scorpion. I used to look at the stars at night when I was a kid, and I liked Antares because it wasn’t like all the other stars. It was red.”

My throat closes. Lucien as a little boy, looking up at the stars. I can’t picture it. But this is a small piece of him, a small piece of his history and I want to hoard it like a dragon.

“It’s beautiful,” I say, staring up at it.

“Yes,” Lucien says, his voice near my ear. “It is.”

But I know he’s not looking at the star, now, and when I turn my head, his dark gaze meets mine, and it feels as if supernovas explode and die in his eyes. He reaches out and brushes a fingertip over the star necklace at the base of my throat. “Perhaps this was a sign,” he says softly.

“A sign?” I don’t understand what he means.

His gaze lifts from my necklace and doesn’t waver, not even for a second. “You have to forget about me, Astrid.”

The piece of glass inside me shifts, cutting deeper, but that’s one thing I can’t do and won’t do, because there’s no forgetting Lucien Frost. “No,” I say. “Sorry, that’s impossible.”

He searches my face for a long moment then his beautiful mouth softens just a bit. “Stubborn Tinkerbell.”

I want to keep this moment. I want to freeze it in time like a dragonfly in amber. Keep it like a jewel that I can go back to again and again and polish, make it sparkle like a ruby, like Antares the red star. This moment where he’s looking at me and the ice in his eyes has melted, and there’s almost a smile on his lips. As if he feels for me the same thing that I feel for him. As if he knows that in a way, we’re kindred spirits.

But then the moment moves on and he sits up abruptly, pushing himself to his feet. He reaches a hand down for me and I take it, letting him pull me up. I want to hold onto his hand, thread his fingers through mine one last time, but he’s already released me.

“Go,” he orders, the strange tenderness in his voice now gone. “The shed is at the back of the property by the fence. Also”—he holds out Matilda’s keys—“you’ll need these to get back into town.”

I nod, but don’t say anything. My throat is too tight for speech.

He turns back to the cabin, but he’s only taken a few steps when he stops and turns once more. My heart suddenly beats fast and I don’t know whether it’s with hope or fear.

He’s standing there in the moonlight, enigmatic as ever, hands in the pockets of his jeans. He’s totally the killer now, isn’t he? He isn’t Lucien anymore. “I’ll come for my information tonight. You’d better have it by the time I get there.”

My stomach drops, but I force myself to nod.

Then he turns around and walks away, leaving me standing in the wet grass alone.

I keep a hard leash on my thoughts, shivering as the cold night air moves over my skin, and force myself to move, walking through the grass toward where Lucien said the shed would be. I can’t think of anything but what I’m going to tell Wolf, about how Lucien was stalking me and that’s how I know him. That he kidnapped me, brought us here, and I managed to get away from him, and now we need to run before he realises I’m gone.

The shed, when I get to it, is small and wooden and painted white, and there are no windows. A padlock keeps the door locked.

I approach it and take out the key, my hands shaking as I unlock the padlock and take it off the door. Then I pull open the door, only narrowly avoiding the fist that comes flying toward my face. I gasp, stumbling back on my ass as Wolf bursts out, heading straight for me.

He only stops at the last minute, the fury on his face slowly morphing into shock. “Addie?”

He’s a mess. One eye is swollen shut and he has a split lip. There are bruises on his jaw and blood in his short dark hair. Blood on his knuckles, too. Probably Lucien’s blood.

I push myself up from the damp ground, breathing fast. “Come on,” I say quickly. “I managed to get away from him. Let’s go before he notices I’m gone.”

Wolf blinks, and maybe he has concussion or something, because he doesn’t move immediately. So I hurry over to him and take his elbow. “Come on,” I say insistently. “We have to go now.”

Automatically, he moves with me, letting me drag him toward the car. “Where are we going? What the fuck is happening?”

“I’ll tell you about it in the car. First, we have to get out of here.”

He doesn’t protest further as we get to Matilda and I hurriedly unlock the doors. He moves toward the driver’s seat, but I shake my head. “You’re in no position to drive,” I tell him. “Also, do you even know how to drive a stick shift?”

He mutters something about of course he knows how to drive a fucking stick shift, but gets into the passenger seat without argument. Then I get Matilda going and pull out onto the road.

“What the hell happened?” Wolf asks after a moment. “Are you okay? Did that fucker hurt you?”

“No.” I clutch the steering wheel tight, trying to resist the urge for one last glance back. “He didn’t touch me.” I can feel the pressure of Wolf’s stare, so I go on. “I was being stalked by him, and I guess that’s why he showed up in the parking lot. He decided to make a move.”