The color drained from her face.
But then a loud thump behind her drew her attention.
The second wolf was laid out on the floor with a bullet hole in his head.
Thea swallowed the bile in her throat. She’d been determined not to kill anyone. Glancing warily back at Devon, she saw nothing.
There was nothing in his eyes as he lowered the gun.
“You were taking too long,” he whispered. “Help me hide them.”
Thea brushed Devon’s assistance aside. It was quicker for her to move the bodies. She hid them in the pantries they’d passed, closed the doors, and tried not to worry about the emptiness in her adoptive brother’s eyes.
Hurrying down the hallway, she followed Devon past the entrance and up another small flight of stairs. They turned left at an open landing and up two more steps where he shoved open a large, gothic wooden door.
They were back in the great hall.
He led her across the room to another door near the fireplace. Beyond it was a small drawing room with no windows. It was lit by wrought iron sconces on three walls. “Stay here. Hide. I’ll be back with my father and then you can come out and do what needs to be done.”
Distrust niggled at Thea as Devon disappeared. She stared up at the massive tapestry covering most of the wall opposite the door. It depicted a battle scene. Probably a famous Scottish battle but Thea didn’t know enough about Scottish history to figure out which one. Conall would know.
She immediately threw her mate out of her head.
She needed to focus, and she couldn’t do that if she worried about how Conall was dealing with her disappearance.
Thea focused on Devon and why he’d brought her to this room. She had to consider if this was a trap to hurt her further, why kill the guards and bring her here? He could have easily tried to dispatch her in that bedchamber.
The thought made her stomach turn.
The last person Thea wanted to hurt was Devon, but if he betrayed her, she would.
It felt like an age as she waited with her ear to the drawing-room door. Despite her vow not to think about him, Thea wondered if Conall was already on his way to the castle with the pack. She knew he would come for her, there was no question of that. But Thea feared how many of the pack would lose their lives trying to rescue her.
Gut churning, sweat gathering under her arms, Thea waited impatiently.
Then finally she heard the murmur of voices.
Ashforth’s and Devon’s voices became clear as they entered the hall.
A door slammed.
That was Thea’s cue.
“What is going on that is so urgent?” Ashforth snapped.
Thea stepped out of the drawing room, the creak of the door announcing her presence.
Ashforth whirled from glaring at his son to wiping his expression off his face when Thea stepped into the room. Ever the master bluffer. “What is she doing here?”
“She’s here to make you pay for what you did to my mother,” Devon said, the words robotic.
His father turned to him, incredulous as he gestured to Thea. “You believe her lies?”
“I believe the guards who witnessed the escape. I’ve known for years what you did to Mom.”
Shaking his head, Ashforth took a step back. “It was an accident.”
A BOOM buffeted against Castle Cara, followed milliseconds later by the shattering of the stained glass window. Shards sliced through the air and Thea ducked, covering her face, feeling tiny little stings all over her arms that healed as quickly as they’d opened. Her shirt sleeves were covered in tiny little tears.
Heart pounding and disoriented, she stood, hearing a roar of sound through the hole in the wall where the window had been. There was popping and crackling amongst the roar … like a blaze.
There had been an explosion, Thea realized.
Ashforth staggered to his feet as Devon pushed out of the doorway of the great hall, a satisfied smile on his face.
“What did you do?”
Devon shrugged. “I blew up the boat. All the guards in the castle are dead; everyone on the boat and dock are most likely dead. And your vamps are locked in the wine cellar. You’re on your own, old man.”
“Why?” Ashforth looked grief stricken.
“You made me stand by while you tortured Thea. You hit me when I disobeyed you. You intimidated Mom, and all the time with this sob story about how your father was such an abusive bastard,” Devon spat this time, no longer calm, no longer in control. “You’re so far fucking gone, you don’t even realize you became the monster you were trying to fight.”
“I love you,” Ashforth whispered. “That is the difference between me and my father. I love you. I’m doing this for both of us.”
“You’re doing this for yourself.” Devon looked to Thea, defeated. “Whoever this is, it’s not the man I remember as my dad.” He stepped back, giving her space. “End it now.”