Chapter 1112
"They wanted to remind us how many they’ve taken," Sophie added grimly.
"We have to do something," Emma said. "Before it’s all of us."
Later that night, Jude lay awake with Sophie curled beside him. She slept lightly, her fingers tangled with his under the blanket. Her breaths were soft, her body warm against his. But Jude’s eyes remained fixed on the wooden ceiling above them, his mind spinning. He wasn’t afraid of the corrupted versions of his wives, he was terrified of the part of himself that still wanted them. That missed them. That burned with need when he thought about Layla’s wicked laugh, or Zoey’s heated gaze, or the way Lucy had whispered his name before everything changed.
He turned slowly to face Sophie. Even in sleep, she looked tired. She’d fought so hard to stay herself. To protect him. To resist. He brushed a kiss over her forehead and slipped out from the bed quietly.
Outside, the moon lit the clearing in silver. Emma sat near the dying fire, sharpening a knife. Her eyes met his without surprise.
"You couldn’t sleep either?" she asked.
He shook his head, joining her on the log. "Do you think there’s anything left of them in there?"
Emma paused, then slowly resumed sharpening. "I think there is. But it’s buried under something ancient and hungry."
"We need a plan."
"We need help."
"From what?"