Page 157 of Scarlet Wars
She took us all in—me, James, Jackson—all still here, alive, dry, and very much not drowning. The water was gone. The floor was bare stone. Even the heavy door that had sealed us in now hung open, its hinges still trembling from whatever force had unlatched it.
The tension drained from her shoulders in a visible wave. Relief flashed across her face, and then something else took its place.
There was a subtle shift in her demeanor, the slight tilt of her chin, and it hit me square in the chest. The Emma I knew was still there, but something new had fused into her, something carved by whatever she’d seen on the other side.
She looked at me like I was part of something larger now, something she didn’t entirely trust, and I knew—with a certainty that twisted deep in my gut—whatever future or past she’d glimpsed, it had everything to do withme.
Before I could ask, before I could evenmove, James fucking Walker wrapped his arms around her.
“Emma,” he breathed out, holding her tight. “Where the hell did you come from?”
The knife was in my hand before I even realized it. Instinct. Reflex. Possession.
A second later, it was airborne—spinning clean through the air—and had Emma not pulled him sideways at the last possible moment, Cyclos would’ve been voting in a new Leader.
Walker’s eyes went wide, staring first at the blade now buried halfway in the wall, then back at me. “Thefuckwas that for?”
I clenched my jaw, more relieved than ever that his hands were no longer on her. “Thought I saw a murderous fly.”
Emma stared at me, unimpressed. “A fly,” she repeated, like she was testing the word and finding it as ridiculous as I did.
I met her gaze, refusing to flinch. “Big one.”
Her lips twitched—barely. “Right. Because we all know how murderous those can be.”
Walker muttered something about me being insane, but I barely heard him. Emma was still watching me, the corner of her mouth caught between disbelief and something dangerously close to a smile.
She shook her head once and moved to Jackson who was now sitting on the floor. She kneeled beside him, fingers brushing his pulse, her touch steady and sure. She checked his face, murmured something too low to hear, and pulled him into a brief hug.
Oddly enough, that one didn’t trigger any murderous impulses on my part.
Then she turned to me.
I straightened before I could stop myself, every muscle caught between tension and anticipation. Some idiotic part of me hoped she might close the distance, maybe even give me one of those rare, disarming hugs she seemed to hand out to everyone.
Instead, she froze mid-step. And then, very deliberately, she looked down.
At my dick.
Blatantly.
For a second, my brain…stopped. Every coherent thought went on strike.
Then Walker opened his mouth, and all higher reasoning was immediately replaced by vivid, detailed fantasies of decapitation. Again.
“Emma,” James said, blissfully unaware of how close he was to losing his head, “where the hell did you go? Did I see you jump through a blue portal just now?”
She nodded once. “Yes. Whoever lured me here, did so to show me the future.”
My voice came out steady. “What did you see?”
She didn’t answer right away. Her eyes flickered, something unreadable moving behind them. When she finally spoke, her tone was quieter, measured. “Something really personal,” she mumbled. “Can we get out of here first?”
“Yeah,” Jackson said as he pushed himself upright, still a little unsteady. “Any idea how?”
I tore my focus off Emma and turned to the reason of our current predicament. “Well,” I said dryly, “if you could alert that husband of yours to our status, that would help immensely.”
Jackson, to his credit, gave a sheepish laugh and rubbed the back of his neck before he muttered, “He knows.”
