Marked by midnight.

Chapter 12. Silent Rage. Rayne’s POV.

The car hummed beneath me, low and steady, but it couldn’t drown out the storm inside. Nothing could muffle the riot simmering under my skin. My fingers dug into my knees, gripping fabric I barely felt.

The car felt like a coffin.

Silent. Airless.

Every passing mile squeezing my ribs tighter, like the walls themselves were leaning in.

Matteo’s hands stayed clamped on the wheel, knuckles pale, jaw locked so tightly I could hear his molars grind. Not a glance. Not a word. Just the cold, heavy weight of him taking up too much space in too small a car.

His silence wasn’t peace.

It was a calculation.

A poised blade waiting for the right moment to cut.

The twins were sat in the backseat, suddenly looking too big for a car this size. They looked more like men than boys. I found myself lost in watching them from the rear view mirror.

They sat too still. Too silent. Too tense. Watching every shift between me and Matteo with a predator gaze. They communicated in tiny glances, wordless signals only they understood.

Their movements mirrored each other; perfectly synced, eerily symmetrical. I watched the way their shoulders stiffened, their gazes fixed forward, I couldn’t help but notice that the air around them seemed to be shifting, strange and electric, like heat rippling off asphalt. I looked away before my heart cracked any further.

They felt it.

The shift in his mood.

The tightening in mine.

I didn’t need to look at them to feel their concern. I felt it all.

Their worry.

Their readiness.

That protective instinct.

Guilt flared hot across my chest.

I focused on the window instead, trying not to choke on the knot forming in my throat. Streetlights streaked across the glass like smudged gold, splintering my reflection. Raven stared back, poised, flawless, unreadable.

But behind her mask, Rayne’s eyes were fractured.

A ghost hiding in plain sight.

Raven would never fall apart.

But Rayne, well she was curled in on herself, screaming without sound.

The car rolled to a stop outside the house; engine ticking into silence. None of us moved. The air was thick, brittle, vibrating with something unspoken.

I didn’t realise we’d stopped until Matteo tapped the steering wheel, impatient. Irritated.

“Out. Both of you,” he ordered. “Go make your mother a tea.”

The twins didn’t react.

Not a flinch.

Not an acknowledgement.

Not even a blink.

They stared ahead, jaws set, shoulders squared, that quiet dangerous power radiating off them; power Matteo felt even if he’d never admit it. His fingers tightened on the wheel; a tell he didn’t know he had.

If anything, their presence grew heavier the longer we sat there. It pressed against the air, subtle but undeniable; like the atmosphere thickened around them.

“Now,” Matteo snapped.

Still nothing.

Because they didn’t take orders from him. They never had.

Their eyes shifted to me instead. Romeo’s brow lifted silently asking: Are you okay? Should we stay with you?

My chest ached at the sight. My brave boys. My recklessly loyal boys. They shouldn’t have to worry about protecting me from their own father, but they did anyway.

“I’ll be right behind you,” I said, forcing my voice soft and reaching back to pat his knee with a steady hand. “Put the kettle on.”

Only then did they move.

They slipped out of the car, quiet and purposeful, but didn’t go far. They planted themselves near the entrance of the house; shoulders squared, gazes locked on the car like they were daring Matteo to try something.

A cold bead of sweat slid down Matteo’s temple.

He shifted in his seat. Uneasy.

Eventually Romeo stepped inside.

Remy didn’t. Watching. Warning. His eyes flicked to mine when I leaned forward to block his view of Matteo; instantly, his face softened into a smile, so full of love it nearly knocked the breath from me.

“If you need me, call me”, he mouthed.

Then he followed his brother inside.

My chest cracked open.

“You embarrassed me tonight.” Matteo’s voice sliced through the air, venomous and low. “Don’t you ever say no to a good offer again.”

My anger flared, surged fast; hot, sharp, feral, burning through my numbness. I wanted to snap back, to tell him I wasn’t his possession. Make him understand I despised him, that I stayed only for my boys. That every touch from him made bile rise in my throat. That every touch from him felt like poison now that I’d seen my mate. Felt the mate bond, even if it was dulled.

I wanted to show him Rayne, for the first time. Flawed, emotional, real Rayne. Not the obedient perfect Raven.

I..

I caught the silhouettes of my boys through the window.

Watching.

Protecting.

Waiting for the slightest wrong noise.

Their shoulders squared.

Ready to step in.

The fury collapsed.

Grief, fear, desperation filled its place.

And love.

Enough love to swallow fire.

I pushed the anger down.. swallowed it whole. Silencing Rayne. Like always.

For them.

Matteo leaned closer, voice dropping into a cold, ugly whisper. ”You’ll keep yourself in check. Behave like the good girl, I’ve taught you to be. I’m not risking this opportunity because you suddenly think your feelings matter.”

My boys’ silhouettes stayed in my peripheral. Not leaving. Not relaxing.

A chill crept through me.

I let my shoulders loosen, leaning back, mask slipping into place. Raven’s ease. Not Rayne’s rage.

“And Raven,” he added, eyes cutting to mine, a cruel smile tugging at his lips, “don’t forget what happens when you disappoint me. You remember don’t you?”

A small, controlled nod.

Raven’s nod.

Because Rayne would have torn his throat out.

Satisfied, he opened his door. “I’ll be back late. Don’t wait up.”

My stomach twisted.

“And Raven?” His smile was sharp. “Don’t make me remind you where you belong.. .”

I nodded again.

Another quiet nod.

Another survival instinct.

If I pushed back, even a little, the boys would come running.

And it would escalate.

And they would suffer.

So I stayed silent.

Obedient.

Matteo leaned in until his lips brushed the shell of my ear, his breath hot and sour against my skin. He stayed there far too long, savouring the power, savouring my stillness, before whispering, low and smug, “Good girl. You don’t need reminding, do you? You know exactly who you belong to.”

I didn’t move.

Didn’t breathe.

Didn’t give him the satisfaction of a flinch.

He stilled for a heartbeat, as if gathering himself. In that quiet moment I caught it, the faint, uneven tremor in his breath. Something tonight had rattled him, a c***k in his confidence he was scrambling to hide.

He recovered with a smoothness that didn’t quite reach his eyes, forcing his posture back into that polished dominance he relied on. The shift was too practiced, an overplayed attempt to erase the moment he’d frozen. Then he shifted closer across the seat, closing the space with a slow, deliberate slide meant to reassert control.

I could feel the smirk on his lips as he leaned closer and pressed a hard lingering kiss on my cheek. Cold. Possessive. No affection, no love.. just ownership and control.

Bile surged in my throat. My skin crawled. It was like my soul recoiled violently; like it knew it was betraying something sacred, the other half of my soul.

Him.

My mate.

I breathed deeper. Reminded myself that Raven didn’t have a mate; she had Matteo.

A husband.

A life.

A lie.

Matteo straightened with that cruel, spine chilling grin, the one that always made my stomach twist and stepped out of the car. I stayed where I was, fingers digging into the seat, forcing the tremor out of my lungs.

I watched him walk away, shoulders loose with confidence, arrogance dripping from every step. He thought he owned me. Thought he’d won.

For a moment, just a heartbeat, I imagined sinking my teeth into his throat. Tearing. Ending it.

The urge was so violent it scared even me.

I stayed frozen. Not because of fear.

Because of rage.

Rage so sharp and sudden it felt like lightning under my skin.

If I moved too quickly, if I inhaled too deeply, I wasn’t sure I’d be able to stop myself.

And my boys..

My boys didn’t deserve to witness that.

So I stayed seated, hands skating against the leather, watching Matteo strut away drunk on the power he thought he had over me.

I concentrated on breathing.

Calming.

Protecting my boys from the truth of what I felt.

Matteo lifted a hand and waved toward the window where the twins watched. He laughed.. like the whole night was a performance for an audience he thought didn’t matter.

Then he disappeared into the night.

Vanishing.

I breathed a sigh of relief.

He had no idea how close he’d come to waking something in me he could never control.