Chapter Eighty-One
Blade’s pov
The air in the compound felt heavy, thick with the scent of unwashed denim and the lingering, metallic tang of the recent violence. I needed to move. I needed to feel my own pulse, to remind myself that I was still a living, breathing man and not just a shadow drifting through a graveyard.
I walked the perimeter of the compound, my boots crunching rhythmically against the gravel. The sky was a bruised shade of gray, threatening rain, but I didn't care. I just wanted to be away from the clubhouse, away from the prying, suspicious eyes of the brothers, and far from the office where Stone was sharpening his knives for a hunt he didn't realize would lead him to his own right hand.
I was nearing the edge of the residential wing when I saw her.
Tessa was sitti
