Chapter Ninety-Seven
Ava’s pov
The heavy door handle turned slowly, and the deadbolt clicked open with a sharp, metallic sound.
I pushed myself up from the soft edge of the mattress the second Jake stepped into our bedroom. He looked completely worn out from the long hours down at the training pit. His dark hair was messy, sticking to his forehead, and his black work shirt was smudged with dry grey mud, cold dirt, and dark grease.
But as he shut the heavy wooden door and locked it behind his back, I did not see the dark, wild rage that had carried him down to the chapel hours ago. His broad shoulders were dropped low, his chest rising and falling in a slow, steady rhythm that told me the storm inside his head had finally settled down.
I took a slow step across the cold floorboards tow
