Chapter 527

Olivia

I jolted awake to the sharp sound of knocking at the front door, and almost immediately, I reached for my phone. I felt a wave of panic bubble up inside of me; more reporters? But a glance at the clock revealed it was well past three in the morning—far too late for reporters.

So, who on earth could that be at this ungodly hour?

Throwing on a robe, I quietly crept down the dark hallway, down the stairs and around the corner to the front door. It was then, through the window, that I spotted a familiar silhouette lurking on the porch.

Nathan.

A combination of relief and confusion caused my breath to catch in my throat. I stormed up to the door and flung it open to see Nathan’s face staring back at me, his eyes wide as saucers. “What are you doing he—”

My voice trailed off, however, when I realized that he wasn’t alone. There was another figure there; a woman, dressed in a dark hoodie with the hood pulled up around her face. I couldn’t quite make out her features, but I could see the long, dark hair sticking out from the hood.

Mira.

Nathan shifted his stance slightly, glancing over his shoulder. “Can we come in?” he whispered.

A thousand questions raced through my mind, but I pushed them aside for the moment. Nathan had to have good reasons for bringing her straight to our doorstep in the dead of night; he wasn’t the impulsive type.

Stepping back, I ushered them inside before any prying neighbors who might still be awake could see. Mira slipped past me, her dark hair brushing my arm as she scurried by.

I had to contain a shudder; even though she and Nathan had never actually had relations with one another, the idea of the woman who I had thought to have stolen my husband from me simply walking into my house in the middle of the night made my wolf stir uncomfortable.

Once the door was firmly shut and locked and the curtains were snapped closed, I turned to face them. “What’s going on?” I asked quietly.

“Mira was caught gathering intel for me,” Nathan explained. “It’s not safe for her anymore.”

My gaze swung back to the haunted-looking woman, taking in the dark bruises peeking out from beneath her sleeves. She tried to tug her sleeves down to cover them, but it was too late; I saw what I saw.

Anger, hot and sickening, surged through me on her behalf. Despite everything, the thought of another woman being abused made me sick and furious. No wonder Nathan had brought her here; I would have done the same.

I nodded, clenching my jaw. “I see. How long does she need to stay?”

A muscle twitched in Nathan’s firm jaw, although whether it was from relief or residual tension, I couldn’t quite tell. “I’ve got a guy down at the docks who can smuggle her to the southern pack territories,” he explained. “She only needs to stay until sunrise.”

I swallowed. Keeping a fugitive here like this was risky, especially with two infants in the house. But, just as I was opening my mouth to protest, I quickly shut it again.

No. This house once belonged to my aunt, a woman who harbored secret—and dangerous—information right under our noses. Perhaps she would have also taken in someone like Mira.

And besides, it was only for a few hours.

Leading the way down the hall, I showed Mira to the guest bedroom—clean sheets, plush towels, and a deadbolt lock on the door for privacy. Everything a person could need after being trapped in worse nightmares.

She accepted the spare set of clothes I pushed into her arms with a mumbled ‘thank you’, her first words since arriving on my doorstep. I blinked, surprised by her sudden words, but the shame and sorrow in her eyes kept me from prying for more.

I quickly padded down the hallway after closing her door behind me, and headed back downstairs. Nathan was standing by the front door, frantically checking his watch. As I approached, he looked up and sighed.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, taking my hands in his before I could even begin to berate him for making this decision to bring a fugitive to our home without me. “But I had to act quickly.”

I sighed, my eyes fixed on his. “This is dangerous,” I whispered. “But you know that.”

“I do.” He nodded as his thumb stroked back and forth over my knuckles. “Look, it’s only for a few hours. By the time the sun rises, she’ll be gone. She has instructions to the docks, and my guy will be waiting for her.”

“You’re sure?” I asked.

Nathan nodded and pulled me close, pressing a kiss against my temple. “It’ll be okay, Liv.”

I swallowed. I hoped that he was right, that it would be that simple. That no one else saw what was happening, that Mira could simply slip out without being caught. That Nathan’s plan to take down the sex trafficking ring would soon come to fruition, and this would all be over.

“Alright. I trust you,” I finally murmured, cupping his cheek in my hand.

Nathan let out a shuddering breath, some of the rigidity seeping out of his shoulders as he took my hand and pressed his lips to my palm.

“Soon, Liv,” he said. “This will all be over soon, and things can go back to normal.”

I almost laughed at that word: ‘normal’. I didn’t even know what ‘normal’ meant anymore. All I knew was that, no matter what, trouble would always seem to follow us. Somehow, that seemed certain to me.

…

As the sun began to peek over the horizon a few hours later, I began to hear stirrings in Mira’s room. I kept my distance, just praying that she could slip out unnoticed before the neighbors started to wake up.

After all, the last thing I needed was for more negative press—who knew what the headlines would say? The reporters would certainly have a field day over Nathan’s mistress being smuggled in and out of our home within the span of a few hours.

Eventually, as I began making my coffee—which was much needed after not sleeping a wink following the sudden appearance—I heard soft footsteps padding down the stairs. I looked up, peering around the corner, and there she was.

Mira stood in the doorway, a bag hoisted over her shoulder and wearing the fresh clothes I had given her.

There was a long, palpable silence between us. I didn’t know what to say, or even what to think; here was the woman who had been accused of stealing my husband away. Here was a woman who, just a few weeks ago, I would have gladly cast out into the street.

And yet now, looking at her, all I felt was a familiar sort of comradery with someone like me.

With a woman who, like myself and so many others, had been handed the shit end of the stick in life.

Neither of us said anything; I don’t think we needed to. All we exchanged was an almost imperceptible nod, but it spoke volumes. It was a thank-you and an apology and so much more.

And then, like a wisp of wind, Mira slipped out the back door and disappeared into the long shadows of dawn.