Three Hybrid Brothers Locked Me in Their Tower, and the Man Who Sent Me There Is the Real Monster novel · Chapter 8 of 24

Chapter 8: The Last Bright Thing

Rook's POV

She slept with her cheek on my arm and her hand fisted in the blanket, and I did not move for an hour.

The lamp had burned down.

The sea glass in the window turned from green to gray as the sky lightened, and the wind had dropped, and somewhere below the kitchen stove was ticking as it caught.

I had never wanted to stay in a bed in my life.

I eased my arm out from under her head an inch at a time.

She frowned in her sleep and turned over, and the quilt slid off her shoulder.

I put it back.

Then I got up, naked, and went to the low shelf at the foot of the bed.

The ring lay where I'd left it, on its square of velvet.

I had seen her eyes go to it before I turned out the lamp.

She hadn't said a word.

She was a woman who counted everything that came and went, and she had counted that.

I picked it up.

Silver, with a black stone and a raven's head cut into it, worn smooth by a long time in somebody's pocket.

It was the second one.

I had pulled it out of the harbor mud eleven winters ago, on my first week with the salvage boat, tangled in a bit of rotten net off the town landing.

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