Reeva POV
My hands are shaking with anger as I unlatch the final shackle. How the f**k are Reese and I related by blood? She is a cruel, evil, and manipulative b***h. This is not how we were raised.
The chains fall away, and Wyatt slumps forward, his weight almost catching her off guard. I slip an arm under his shoulder, holding him upright. His skin is burning hot under my touch, fevered from too long in the silver’s embrace.
“Can you walk?” I whisper.
“Define ‘walk,’” his voice is like sandpaper, and his smirk is a ghost of the man I know. “I can … stagger with intent.”
“That’ll do,” I chuckle, relieved that there is a little left of the Wyatt I know. “We’ll go through the back. Fewer eyes, and less risk.”
“Less hope,” Wyatt mutters.
“Don’t start,” I sigh. I am not a superstitious
