Burn it Down

London Snow

BURN IT DOWN

LONDON SNOW

Copyright

No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

Contact: [email protected]

Cover Designer: K. Burgess Designs

Photographer: Ren Saliba

Beta Reader: Annelise @ ab.neverending_tbr

Editor: Amanda Leach

Proofreading: Kristen Seeson

Dedication

To anyone who wanted to be chosen at all costs. This one's for you.

PLAYLIST

"Take Me to Church" — Hozier

"Power Over Me" — Dermot Kennedy

"Let the World Burn" — Chris Grey

"As the World Caves In" — Sarah Cothran

"Lose Control" — Teddy Swims

"Good Graces" — Sabrina Carpenter

"Beautiful Things" — Benson Boone

"Classic" — MKTO

"I'll Be" — Edwin McCain

"Thinking Out Loud" — Ed Sheeran

"Jealous" — Labrinth

"Die For You" — The Weeknd

"Say You Won't Let Go" — James Arthur

"Him & I" — G-Eazy, Halsey

"Heaven" — Julia Michaels

"Bed Chem" — Sabrina Carpenter

"Imagine Loved by Me" — Hozier

"Good Girl" — Bury, Omido, BenelD

"Earned It" — The Weeknd

"Someone You Loved" — Lewis Capaldi

"Perfect" — Ed Sheeran

"All of Me" — John Legend

"Hanging by a Moment" — Lifehouse

"Die a Happy Man" — Thomas Rhett

"Work Song" — Hozier

AUTHOR’S NOTE

This book may have some content that could affect your reading experience. If you have any topics that you generally steer clear of please consider reading the content list at the back of this book or on my website.

Playlist

Author’s Note

Prologue

1. Riven

2. Riven

3. Lakynn

4. Lakynn

5. Riven

6. Lakynn

7. Riven

8. Lakynn

9. Lakynn

10. Riven

Epilogue

Content

About the Author

Also by London Snow

PROLOGUE

LAKYNN

SIX MONTHS AGO — AGES EIGHTEEN AND TWENTY

CASTLEBROOK FALLS

The late afternoon sun barely cuts through the chill of the morning. It’s the kind of cold that clings to your sweater sleeves and makes your nose sting. Still, I don’t go inside. I like it out here too much. The quiet mostly, but the clean air, and the way the dogwood tree bows just enough to make it feel like the world is tilting in my favor doesn’t hurt either.

I’ve got a book in my lap, open but unread. The story takes place in Ireland, the country I want to visit most in the world. I don’t really have a travel bucket list, just one destination. Maybe someday, and that’s all I can hope for. My fingers are stiff from the cold, but I keep them pressed to the pages anyway, as if pretending to read will make my thoughts behave. It doesn’t work, it never does.

I hear the slam of the barn door before I see him.

My heart jumps, but it’s not because I’m startled. Riven Kozlov. My not-quite-brother. My only real friend. My unrequited secret.

We were both adopted by Dimitri and Karina Kozlov in our early teens. They have one biological son named Lucas and he’s the same age as Riven, but they couldn't be any different from one another. Riven came to live with the Kozlovs before me. People say he was quiet, broody, with a haunted kind of silence that keeps everyone else at a distance. Everyone but me. I came to live here a few months later, and from what I’m told, the moment I stepped into the Kozlovs' home, he softened. It was subtle, but they noticed. It was the quiet way he started hovering nearby me. Sitting beside me at dinner. Walking protectively close even when we were in a group. I once heard someone say, “That boy breathes a little easier when she’s in the room.”

He never said much. He still doesn't. But Riven doesn't need words when his presence says everything. And lately, it's been saying a little too much, giving me hope for something that can never be.

Just a few nights ago, our Dimitri found us on the porch swing. I had my head in Riven’s lap, his hand absently stroking my hair, the blanket wrapped around both of us. We weren’t doing anything wrong, but it didn’t matter. Nearly as soon as he stepped inside the house, Karina came barreling outside to get a look at us. She reminded us, again, that we were meant to be siblings. That what we have isn’t normal. She made sure to reiterate that we’re family.

But we don’t feel like siblings, and living here with these people has never felt like a family.

Riven’s boots crunch through the frosted grass, and I don’t need to look up. Lately, I can’t control the blush that heats my neck and face when his eyes sweep over me. His walk is slow and steady, like he owns whatever ground he touches. The scent of sweet hay and rusted metal hits before he even reaches me. He must have seen me while he was feeding the horses, which is the real reason I’ve been sitting out here, freezing my butt off. Things are awkward all the way around, but I crave being near him. I want his attention no matter the reason he’s giving it to me.

"You’re gonna freeze out here, Lake," he calls, voice rough like he hasn’t spoken yet this morning. Knowing him and the way he hates small talk, he probably hasn’t. I like that he breaks his habits for me, because he doesn’t do that for anyone else.

I finally glance up as he rounds the fence. The navy blue work coat he’s wearing is unzipped and his hands are a rosy color from the cold. No gloves and an open coat negates his entitlement to comment on my state of dress. I won’t say that out loud because it makes me feel good when he worries about me in any capacity. His light brown hair is damp, which tells me he overslept and rushed out of the shower to take care of the morning feed. A few strands fall across his forehead and when he pushes them back absently, my throat tightens. I want to do that for him. I want to be able to touch him whenever I want.

"It’s not that bad," I say, my voice lighter than I feel.

He doesn’t answer, instead he glances around like he’s surveying the entire property. Only when he’s satisfied does he walk straight to me and drop down onto my blanket like he’s done it a hundred times before.

Because he has.

His body heat immediately cuts through the chill, his thigh brushing mine as he stretches out beside me. I try not to react, but it’s impossible. He’s too big, too warm, too close.

My skin tingles the second he touches me. It's always been like that. There’s this electric pull between the two of us that ignites every nerve ending in my body. Even now, sitting inches apart, my nipples tighten against the inside of my bra, and heat pools low in my belly. My thighs clench, desperate and aching only for him. There’s plenty of men in Castlebrook Falls, but my body only reacts this way when he’s close to me.

He leans back on his elbows, breath fogging in the air. "You pretending to read again?"

I nudge him with my shoulder and roll my eyes petulantly. "You pretending not to be nosy again?" He knows I’m here for him, but that doesn’t mean I have to say the words and make him any prouder of himself than he already is.

His smirk is lazy, familiar, and meant just for me when he says, "You’re shivering. Come here."

It’s not a request.

He shifts, one arm opening like an invitation. And I hesitate. Just for a second. But it’s enough.

His brows pull together. "Lakynn."

That’s all it takes because I’m moving toward him as if he’s got some kind of magnetic pull.

I curl into his side, my cheek finding the space between his shoulder and chest. His arm slides around me, anchoring me like he always does. It’s probably wishful thinking, but it feels like he needs to hold me this way. Like he can’t help himself.

He groans as he hugs me, and it’s a soft, involuntary sound almost as if he's finally found relief. I like to think that touching me quiets something inside him.

His hand settles on my hip. The gesture feels heavy, possessive, like I belong to him. There’s a protectiveness in the way his fingers curl and press against me.

We don’t talk for a while. The wind moves through the branches above us, carrying the faint smell of a burn pile and horses. I should feel comforted, but my entire body is on edge right now, like every nerve ending is on fire. I know that Riven doesn't touch anyone else. Not like this. But with me, it's different. Like I'm the only place he's ever let himself rest. Like he can't fully relax unless we're touching in some way.

Sometimes, when he's in one of his moods, he’ll pick me up like it's no big deal. He always holds me tight, like he's afraid I'll disappear. My arms wrap around his neck, my legs around his waist, and that's when things get interesting. His hands always slide up my thighs, over my ass, in the most slow and possessive manner. And I always let him, but as quickly as he lets it happen, he recovers, motioning for me to slide to the ground. He’s always quick to move his hands to a place where it’s appropriate for a brother- adjacent person to touch me.

It frustrates me to no end, but still, I never want it to stop. I crave his touch in a way I couldn’t explain even if I tried.

"Dimitri wants to talk to me tonight," he says eventually, and his jaw is set with what looks like anger.

I blink, the words sinking in slow. "Do you think it’s about the other night? When he found us on the porch swing?"

He doesn’t answer right away. I shift in his arms, trying to meet his eyes. "Riven?"

"I don’t want you to worry about it, but I don’t want to keep anything from you, either," he says, finally looking at me. "Whatever it is, I’ll handle it."

He cups my chin with his hand, his thumb brushing the edge of my jaw. "I’ll always protect you, Lakynn. Always look after you. Nothing is going to change that."

My eyes sting. I blink hard, but one tear slips free anyway.

Riven leans in and kisses the tear beneath my eye. My stomach flips, even though the gesture is sweet and soft. I feel the warmth of his breath against my cheek as he murmurs, "Please don’t cry."

"I have a bad feeling," I whisper. "I don’t know why, I just... I do."

His fingers trail down to my neck, settling there like he’s trying to calm me with touch alone. "You’re safe. As long as I’m here, you’re safe."

I want to believe him. I do.

There’s a voice inside me screaming that something terrible is about to happen, even if I have no proof. Growing up, I was moved from house to house, family to family until I ended up here. My intuition is rarely wrong, even now that my guard has come down a bit.

Riven’s fingers move slowly against my side, dragging over the fabric of my sweater like he’s soothing himself. It’s soft. A barely there, forbidden touch. But I feel every brush like a brand.

"You're too cold," he murmurs.

"You're warm enough for both of us."

He huffs a breath, amused but tense. His mouth dips toward me, and I swear…I freaking swear…he almost kisses me.

But he doesn’t.

He lingers.

Then, slowly, his hand moves to brush my hair aside. He leans down further and presses his face into the curve of my neck, inhaling deeply like he needs me to survive. Like he can only calm whatever is raging inside of him by breathing me in. His nose grazes my skin, and his lips are so close, but he doesn’t cross the line.

I freeze, not because I’m scared, but because I want to lean into it. To pull him closer. To stay here with him forever.

Riven is completely still, lingering like he's trying to memorize the way I smell. His arms tighten once more, and then one hand slowly slides down my arm to my wrist.

His fingers brush over the leather bracelet I’ve worn since the summer. It’s just a simple thing I made by hand with little knots and two tiny turquoise beads tucked into the braid.

He rubs his thumb over it, but he doesn’t say anything. When Riven starts to pull away, I stop him and quickly unhook the bracelet. I shove it into the front pocket of his jeans before he can stop me or argue.

“Lakynn—”

“Just take it,” I say, my voice barely above a whisper. “Just in case.”

His brows furrow, and for a second, I think he’s going to argue, but he doesn’t. He just nods once, jaw tight, and cups my face like he’s trying to memorize every detail.

We sit like that for the longest while, and I burrow in his arms as I think about the first time we held each other like this.

Two years ago, Riven came home from a hunting trip with our father and uncle. His face was pale, his hands shaking, dried blood smeared across his knuckles and cheek. I was on the porch when he walked up, his boots dragging, eyes blank. He wasn’t being cold to me. He just seemed… broken.

Without a word, I stepped toward him, arms open. He fell to his knees in front of me and pressed his face into my stomach. I wrapped my arms around him and slid my fingers through his hair, whispering that it was okay, that he was safe, even if I wasn’t sure he believed me.

"Did someone do something to you?" I asked, barely above a whisper.

"I’d do anything for you," he said, ignoring my question completely.

I held him for what felt like hours until the screen door banged open and our father stepped out onto the porch.

His eyes narrowed at the sight of us like we were doing something egregious.

"Lakynn. Inside. Now."

Riven didn’t move. His arms stayed wrapped around my waist like letting go would kill him. I kissed the top of his head, promised I’d be right back, and followed our father into the house.

He closed the study door behind us and crossed his arms and I remember my stomach felt flipped upside down.

"You don’t understand what Riven is. He’s capable of killing, Lakynn. You keep treating him like he’s fragile, but that boy has darkness in him. You need to stop babying him before you get hurt."

I stared at him, heart pounding. "Whatever you’re trying to do, it won't work. I’ll never deny him."

My father’s glare was cold. Calculated even. Then he just turned and walked away.

That was the first time I understood that our adoption wasn’t about love.

It was about control.

The loud bang of the barn door brings me out of my memory.

"Riven!" The sharp, commanding voice cuts through the quiet we were enjoying and we both look up.

Our father stands outside the barn, arms crossed, expression grim. He looks serious and maybe even concerned. His eyes lock on us beneath the dogwood tree, and I swear the muscle in his jaw tics.

Riven goes still before his arm tightens around me for half a second and then he slowly pulls away.

"Stay here," he says, voice low.

"I don’t want to be away from you," I whisper, clutching his hand.

He lifts my fingers to his mouth, brushing his lips across my knuckles. "Just stay. Remember what I said. I’ve got you, Lakynn. Always."

I swallow hard, eyes stinging. "I believe you."

He gives me one last look before standing and walking across the field toward the barn.

I stay beneath the tree, and it feels like my heart is hammering against my ribcage as he approaches the barn. Our father steps aside to let him in and then the door closes behind them.

That was the last time I saw Riven Kozlov.

The next morning, he was gone.

No note. No explanation. Just… gone.

RIVEN

The locker room reeks of sweat and blood and old tape. We’re at an away game, and even though I loathe every fucking minute I’ve been away from Lakynn, at least Castlebook doesn’t smell like literal garbage.

I keep my head down as I lace my skates, ignoring the chatter around me. The sound of laughter grates on me. I have been waiting and waiting and waiting some more for news on when they’re sending Lakynn to be with me. That was the deal. The alternative was that they were going to marry Lakynn off to someone in a merger that would benefit them. I never thought they adopted us for sincere reasons, but when I realized that selling Lakynn off to the fucking highest bidder was an option, I knew that I had to do whatever it took to keep her safe. I’m about ready to blow everything up if my father and uncle don’t make good on their side of things. Six months is too long when I didn’t go a fucking night since the day I met her without checking on her.

The sloppy, aimless noise that doesn’t belong anywhere near me is making it worse. I’m on edge, and none of these fuckers even realize what they could be dealing with if they piss me off. These guys joke like they have nothing to lose. Like none of this matters. I’m a killer, the coldest kind, too. I don’t give a fuck about any of my hits. I don’t care why or how. I only care about one fucking thing, and that’s my adopted sister. I completed every task my father had for me, and now I’m a student at Castlebrook, which was the cover we agreed on when I left The Falls. The gossip mill is out of control, so saying I wanted to leave to play hockey seemed like the most believable thing. Except to Lakynn. I know she had to be so confused and worried. The last few months have been painful, and it’s felt like my fucking chest is cracked open and my heart ripped out. I know I’m going to have a lot of making up to do when Lakynn and I are reunited, but this was the only way that we could be together. I’ll spend the rest of my life making it up to her.

My team’s captain, Hayden Lockwood, throws his stick into his locker with a clatter. He’s the resident crashout, from what I’ve been able to tell. The reason for this little outburst? His best friend and biggest aggravator, Callum Grey, just made a joke about his girl. I glare at them as Callum tries to jump over the benches in between the lockers and Hayden threatens to kill him in various ways. I don’t have to do anything though, because Tristan Vale swings his stick out and trips both of them in one go. He’s the mean ass goalie who everyone is afraid of, but he runs with these two idiots for whatever reason. I don’t need to be friends with these guys, that’s not why I’m here, but I’m smart enough to pay attention to who runs this place. And ironically, it’s these dipshits. I know of Callum, but have never met him. His cousin is the best bull rider The Falls has ever seen, and I’ve done a few side jobs for him. He’s got his hands in everything that goes on in that town and he’s not above getting his hands dirty, either. Callum left town when he was young, so we never crossed paths. There were rumors going around that he killed his own father, but in a town like that, you never know what’s made up and what’s absolutely true. They might think their little temper tantrums are intimidating, but I could take all three of them out right now if I wanted to.

I wouldn’t feel a shred of any emotion if I executed every single person in this building. My entire existence is wired around one girl. I was shaped into something monstrous just for the chance to keep her. I’m only entertaining this hockey bullshit because it gives me a free pass to knock the shit out of people, get my aggression out while I wait for the call.

I close my locker slowly, the metal creaking under my palm. My reflection in the steel is sharp and cold. This isn’t who I wanted to be, but I became him anyway.

For her.

My phone vibrates once. The screen lights up with a name I don’t expect. Speak of the fucking devil.

Caiden Grey.

I hesitate only a second before yanking open the back door and stepping outside into the freezing alley behind the arena. The cold wind hits me in the face, but to be fucking fair I need that right now. I need something to snap me into focus.

I swipe to answer. “Yeah.”

There’s a pause on the line. Then a voice, slow and cutting. “Kill anybody lately?”

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