Prologue
Mila
Waves crashed against the sand while my mother’s warning still echoed—Stay away from him. That family’s not safe. But I couldn’t forget what came after: Lorne standing over Darren’s body, the gun, the erasure of our names. It was too much to keep buried. Luke deserved the truth—unless he’d been living it all along. My mouth went dry, and I curled my hands into fists to still the slight tremble. Fear would’ve been smart. I just wasn’t feeling smart tonight.
The locker room was probably empty by now, the echo of pucks and whistles fading into the night. I’d already checked my phone twice, reread his text—I’m up. Meet me.—and still couldn’t calm the tremor in my hands.
The drive to the academy from the beach blurred past in a wash of headlights and second-guesses. By the time I parked in the arena’s lot, I’d almost convinced myself it was just a conversation. But conversations with Luke King had a way of changing everything.
It was getting late, and most of the players had already left. I hurried across the lot and slipped through the metal doors that would take me to Luke. After climbing the main levels, I hit the older part of the building. The stairwell to the roof creaked under my shoes, as if it remembered every secret this town had swallowed.
When I pushed the final door open, the rooftop and skyline spilled around me in smoky dusk hues. Everything resembled one of my charcoal sketches—shades of gray, truth smudged until shadow and what was real blurred together. Fitting. We’d both been living in half-erased lines. And there he was—standing near the edge, back to me, the set of his shoulders tight beneath his hoodie.
For a heartbeat, I almost turned around. Because facing Luke again meant pulling every lie into the light. I’d spent enough time running—from this town, from names, from truths that wouldn’t stay buried. I squared my shoulders and tilted my chin up. Tonight wasn’t about escape. It was about finally turning around to face the thing that had chased me away.
He turned, eyes catching the last streak of gray-blue sky, and it hit me how exhausted he looked. Not physically—emotionally. As if the weight of Blackwood itself had been pressing on his spine. I tread forward, leaving a foot between us. Close enough, but not to invite touch. I needed the space to stand on my own and tell him the truths he needed to hear.
“I wasn’t sure you’d show.” His deep voice rumbled across the space between us.
“Neither was I.” My voice didn’t shake, but the rest of me did. I wanted to start easy—small talk, a joke, anything—but the words clawed their way out before I could stop them. “I overheard Elise after school on the phone today.”
His gaze sharpened, all predator focus.
“She’s unraveling, Luke. Whoever’s pulling her strings… it’s bad. She actually said ‘drug him.’”
The disbelief that flickered across his face almost hurt to watch. I wished I didn’t have to be the one to confirm how ugly this world could get.
But that wasn’t why I’d come. Not really. He notched his head toward the blanket laid out, waiting for us to claim it and the memories of all the past times we’d found sanctuary together up here.
I sank onto the edge of the blanket, knees folding beneath me. “There’s more. And I need your word before I say it—that you’ll protect my mom and me.”
He hesitated then nodded once. “You have it.”
The words steadied me enough to continue. “I don’t even remember why I had to meet Mom at work that night over a year ago. Doesn’t matter. I followed her location, and when I got there…”
Luke shifted. His muscles rippled beneath the taut fabric of his hoodie, and I shivered.
“There was blood. A body. We got the hell out. I inhaled deep then pushed onward. “Back at our place, she wouldn’t tell me who pulled the trigger. The person who was killed… it was my mom’s boyfriend. Darren Langley.”
Recognition flashed in his eyes. “The VP,” he said slowly.
“Yeah. And that was the night we fled. But there’s something else.” My throat went dry, and I had to clear it before I could continue. “My mom… she saw Lorne that night. Standing over Darren’s body. Gun in hand.” Even saying his name made my pulse stutter. The memory was branded into me—the way Mom had shaken as she told me to grab my things. We didn’t say goodbye. We ran.
“There must be some mistake.” Luke’s expression hardened, disbelief fighting realization. “You’re here now. Your school records are back. No one’s coming after you.”
Silence swelled between us, thick and dangerous.
“Your mom thought my family did it,” he said finally.
“She still does.” The confession scraped raw, and I threaded my fingers together until my knuckles turned white. “They made her come back. Whoever’s behind Dunn Industries—or maybe even Lorne—forced her into a job she couldn’t refuse. Told her we’d be safe if we played along.”
Luke looked as though he wanted to argue, to deny, but the fight in his eyes dimmed.
I pressed a hand to his chest, felt the uneven rhythm of his heart under my palm. “That’s why I can’t fight Elise openly. She’s her father’s weapon, and my mom works for Dunn now. If I push too far, it blows back on both of us.” I swallowed hard. “We’re stuck playing by rules we don’t even understand. And I don’t want to have to leave again.”
“Who is they?”
I shrugged. Wasn’t that the question of the hour? “I-I don’t know for sure. Only that Mom told me to stay away from you. Said the King family’s not safe.”
Luke didn’t break eye contact, his face frozen in that impossible-to-read way of his. “Darren isn’t dead.”
My breath caught. The world tilted, and I curled my fingers into the blanket.
“There was never any notice about his death. No news, no whispers. Your mom doesn’t have the full story.”
My stomach twisted. I searched his face, daring him to break the promise he’d just made. “You said you would trust me. Give me the benefit of the doubt.”
“I did. I do. Look… if there was a cover-up, and he's dead? Then I get why your mom ran.”
He leaned back slightly, and my hand fell away. I missed his heartbeat beneath my palm instantly.
“But, Mila… I was told your mom stole from us.”
I flinched before bracing for the possibility of it, because we did have money when we ran. “I-I don’t know about that. Maybe she stole from her boyfriend. I don’t think it was from your family’s company.”
“Okay.” His features hardened the way they did on the ice when he was about to take on the opposing team. “You need to keep your head down.” He scrubbed a hand over his jaw, gaze narrowing. “Don’t poke the beast. Don’t give them a reason.”
That was it? Was he pulling away from me? It wasn’t what I wanted, not even a little. “And what about us?”
His pupils flared wide, something that I hoped was desire swirling in those depths. “I’ve got your back. We’ll figure this out. But we do it together.”
I nodded, my gaze locked on his. “Together.”
“No more secrets.”
“That goes both ways.” My voice dropped to a dare.
“We’re in agreement then. A team.”
I drew back, and he caught my wrist, holding it there.
“You won’t lose me.”
For a moment, I believed him. His gaze dropped to my mouth, then back to my eyes—as though he was giving me one last chance to pull away. And then he kissed me.
It wasn’t gentle—it was years of grief, fury, and need colliding into something between forgiveness and war. His hand tangled in my hair; mine fisted in his hoodie. One touch and I went up like a fuse. Raw, powerful, and potent. An addiction I couldn’t quit. The sound that escaped me didn’t feel like a choice—desire, relief, and warning tangled together.
When he pulled back, our foreheads stayed pressed, breaths uneven. “This changes things,” I managed.
“Damn right it does,” he murmured and kissed me again.
Slower. Deeper. More of a claim than a kiss. We lost ourselves in one another until a car horn blared below and we pulled apart, reluctantly.
The stars blurred above us, a thousand silent witnesses.
Luke reached into his pocket. “Might as well mark the night.” He unfurled his hand to reveal a delicate silver chain with a star pendant.
I blinked back sudden tears at the sight of the necklace he’d given me long ago. I never thought I would see it again. “You kept it?”
When he fastened the necklace around my throat, something shifted. A circle closed; a wound sealed.
He didn’t answer. Just brushed my hair aside.
My fingers drifted up, grazing the tiny silver star. “I left it in your bag before the game. For luck. I wasn’t supposed to leave that night. I thought I’d be there to get it back from you the next day.”
His nostrils flared, and guilt hit me hard for never being able to tell him why I’d left. I knew exactly what he’d thought—I’d left him without a word, thrown all our hopes and dreams away, the ultimate betrayal.
“Still suits you.”
I melted inside at his simple words, because I knew what they meant. Forgiveness. Acceptance. For the first time since I came back, we were on the same page. Not publicly as a couple, but here. Now. Whenever we were alone. And still, a quiet fear threaded through the warmth—because this time, there was so much stacked against us, and wanting him didn’t make any of it safer.
We sat there, the night folding around us, two ghosts pretending we could start over. But underneath the sweetness of his promise, I could already feel the storm building.
Because if what I’d told him was true—and I knew it was—then the danger wasn’t outside us anymore.
It was in his family’s blood.
And the moment we chose to stand together, we drew a target on both our backs.
The necklace was cool against my skin, a reminder of what we’d reignited. The same star that once represented us and our dreams for the future. Now it meant war. Maybe Mom was right—Luke King was dangerous. But so was I, now that I wasn’t afraid anymore. We weren’t just rebuilding trust. We were lighting a fuse.
