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Severin loved snakes. Half the tattoos covering his torso and legs featured them, and he’d once told me he wanted to raise snakes himself.

I called him my willow, too, and the tree on Blackwood’s arm resembled one.

The voice, the build, the demeanor? All of those things could be changed or faked.

Had Severin regretted what he’d done and infiltrated the Leathean Order to help me? To rescue me?

He would learn a British accent for that.

I knew it.

There was once a time when I believed Severin would have done anything for me.

“I only want you,” I whispered, too softly for the cameras to pick up. I want freedom. “I want you to take me far away from here, somewhere it can be just us.”

Blackwood lifted his chin from my head and tipped my face toward his with one finger.

His eyes were liquid azure, blue like a venomous pit viper. Absolutely stunning and a bit terrifying.

“Do you mean it?” he asked, his thumb caressing my chin.

“Yes.” Tears burned behind my eyes. “That’s all I want now.”

He lowered his face, his lips hovering over mine, his warm breath brushing my skin.

Then he closed the distance, and for the first time in two years, Blackwood kissed me—and for the first time in two years, the touch of someone’s lips didn’t revolt me.

It was soft and probing, asking for permission in a sea of assault.

In a heartbeat, it was over, leaving me wanting more—desperate for him.

“Blackwood,” I rasped, my voice needy.

His attention settled on me. “I promise you, mon petit lapin. I will make it happen. I will take you far away from here.”

Chapter Twenty-Three

Severin Volkov

Age 36

Present

Once Keira and Neeve were well out of the room, I turned to my men—and Nika.

“Apparently, we have two problems now. The Ghost and whoever this Damon is.”

I poured myself a stiff whiskey.

Damon was clearly the mole within the Russian mafia. He knew far too much, including the fact that I was hunting the Ghost.

But only the people in this room knew that… unless…

“Are we being surveilled?” I asked. “Morozov, have your men sweep the mansion again and look for hidden cameras or microphones.”

Dmitri nodded, already pulling out his phone to relay the order.

“The next question is, which threat comes first?” I took a slow sip of whiskey and settled into an armchair. “This mole is deliberately exposing footage of the ghost and sending us after her. Why?”