Chapter 218
Kara
"I know." I turned my head to press a kiss to Cole's chest, then reached back to squeeze Asher's arm, then finally looked up at Blake. "I'm sorry."
"Don't," Blake said sharply. "Don't you dare apologize for being kidnapped. That wasn't your fault."
"I know, but—"
"No buts." His voice gentled slightly. "You survived. You fought back. You protected yourself and our babies. You have nothing to apologize for."
Through the bond, I felt Asher's agreement, and Cole's, and something in me that had been wound tight finally began to relax.
"Okay," I whispered.
"Okay," Blake echoed.
Asher pressed a kiss to the top of my head, his lips lingering. "We should get you home. Let you rest."
The word home sent a complex tangle of emotions through me. Home meant Midnight Estate, the place where I'd spent ten years as a servant, where Luna Victoria's cold eyes had followed my every move, where I'd slept in a storage closet and counted down the days until I could escape.
But it also meant the fourth floor suite they'd prepared for me. The nursery they were already planning. The bed where I'd woken up this morning surrounded by three warm bodies and the certainty that I was theirs.
"Home sounds good," I said.
Cole helped me sit up, his hands gentle as he cleaned the ultrasound gel from my stomach. Blake grabbed my clothes from the chair, holding them out like an offering. Asher stood back, giving me space but staying close enough that I could feel his presence like a physical weight.
I dressed slowly, my body still sore from three days of captivity and the desperate fight to escape. Every movement was a reminder of what I'd endured: the ache in my wrists where the zip ties had cut, the bruises on my ribs from being shoved against walls, the lingering phantom sensation of the suppression collar's weight.
But I'm alive, I reminded myself. I'm free. And I'm going home with my mates and our babies.
The thought steadied me.
By the time I was dressed, some of my equilibrium had returned. I still felt fragile, like I might shatter at any moment, but I also felt held—by the bond, by their presence, by the promise implicit in every protective gesture.
"Ready?" Asher asked, offering me his hand.
I looked at it—strong, capable, the same hand that had held a weapon when they'd stormed Diana's facility, the same hand that had cradled my face with impossible gentleness this morning.
"Ready," I said, and placed my hand in his.
---
The drive home was quiet. I sat in the back seat between Blake and Cole, their bodies bracketing mine, their warmth seeping into my bones. Asher drove, his eyes flicking to the rearview mirror every few seconds like he needed visual confirmation that I was still there.
Outside, the December Alaskan landscape rolled past: endless white snow, dark pine trees, the pale blue light of late afternoon. It was beautiful in a stark, unforgiving way. Like the men surrounding me.
"Kara?" Blake's voice broke the silence.
I turned to look at him. "Yeah?"
"Can I ask you something?"
Through the bond, I felt his hesitation, his worry that he was pushing too hard too fast. "Of course."
He was quiet for a moment, his jaw working like he was chewing on the words. "Viktor," he finally said. "The one who kidnapped you . Did you remember him?"
The question hit me like a punch to the gut. I'd been trying not to think about Viktor—about his resigned expression when he'd handed me the pregnancy test, about the way he'd flinched when Diana's name was mentioned.
"Yes," I admitted. "I haven't... I didn't ask."
Blake exchanged a look with Cole, then Asher in the rearview mirror. Through the bond, I felt them having some kind of silent conversation.
"He's dead," Asher said finally, his voice carefully neutral.
My breath caught. "What?"
"The collar Diana used to control her people—it had a failsafe. Before we breached the facility, she triggered it remotely." Asher's hands tightened on the steering wheel. "He died after he told us the truth."
Dead. The word echoed in my head, hollow and final. I'd known it was possible—probable, even—but hearing it confirmed made something twist in my chest.
"Did he..." I swallowed hard. "Did he suffer?"
Cole's hand found mine, squeezing gently. "It was quick," he said softly. "The explosion—he wouldn't have felt much."
Through the bond, I caught a flicker of something from Blake—disagreement, maybe, or anger that I was asking. But he kept quiet, letting Cole's gentle lie stand.
"And Diana?" I heard myself ask.
"Dead," Blake said flatly. "We found her body in the rubble."
Dead. Another hollow word. The woman who'd orchestrated my kidnapping, who'd planned to steal my body and wear it like a suit, who'd kept my parents imprisoned for ten years—gone.
I should have felt relief. Maybe even satisfaction. Instead, I just felt... numb.
"Kara?" Cole's voice was worried. "Are you okay?"
Was I? I didn't know anymore. My emotions were a tangled mess, too complex to parse: grief for Viktor, who'd been as much a victim as a captor; hollow satisfaction at Diana's death; lingering terror that it wasn't really over; desperate hope that maybe, finally, I could be safe.
"I don't know," I admitted. "I just... I needed to know. To understand what happened."
"That's normal," Cole said, his medical training evident in his tone. "You experienced severe trauma. Your mind is trying to make sense of it, to put the pieces in order. It's going to take time."
Time. The word felt both infinite and impossibly short. How much time did I have before the next threat emerged? Before someone else decided I was valuable enough to steal?
Stop, I told myself firmly. You're spiraling.
"What about Alexei?" I asked, forcing my mind toward something more concrete. "The other one. The one who gave me pizza and water."
Blake's scent soured immediately, gunpowder sharpening to something acrid. "He's alive. Being held in the estate's holding cells."
Relief flooded through me, so intense it was almost painful. "He's okay?"