Текст книги "Darkest distiny"
Автор книги: Pepper winters
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Anger flowed through me. I massaged harder, working his tight arms, utterly consumed with chasing out the fire beneath his skin.
My cheek pressed to his as I folded—
His arm shot from beneath my hand and snapped up. His fingers locked around my nape, jerking me down.
“W-Wait!”
His eyes snapped open as his head turned to face me. Our noses brushed. Our breath mingled. He looked like a man wrenched out of a dream and dumped straight into a nightmare.
He dragged me closer before I could protest, the movement fast and instinctive.
“Lucien—”
Something snapped in his stare. Black and lost and yearning.
His fingers flexed as if he wanted to strangle me but then...
Something broke.
Yanking me over the back of the couch, he caught me as I tumbled into his lap.
I cried out as I landed.
I gasped as he grabbed my cheeks.
And I moaned as his mouth crashed over mine with savage, unconscious hunger.
His fingers bruised my face as he kept me locked in place, utterly at his mercy.
He kissed me exquisitely hard, brutally hard.
Deep and devouring—blowing my one and only other kiss to smithereens.
His lips captured mine like he’d been starving for an eternity.
I clung to his shirt as his tongue plunged into my mouth. My entire sense of self was destroyed in an instant. He tasted like metal and fire and tragedy.
He growled low and primal, the sound vibrating through my bones.
He wasn’t gentle or hesitant; he was fierce and furious and hunted my soul like he wanted to destroy it.
Every shift of his lips and sweep of his tongue demanded ultimate surrender while every part of me begged for mercy.
My nails dug into his chest, feeling the hard planes of muscle beneath, his hammering heart matching mine.
He tore his mouth away, only to drag in a ragged breath before crashing back again—rougher, hungrier, desperate.
My pulse thudded, racing toward overload.
My body arched in his hold, no longer sure where he ended and I began.
His hips thrust up as he kissed me dangerously deep, rocking his hardness against my bottom as I lay like a bride on his lap.
One of his hands slid down to the base of my neck, his thumb brushing my throat.
I moaned—
He.
Froze.
His eyes flew open and the desperation that’d gotten us into this mess shattered, replaced by blackest horror.
With a primal grunt, he shoved me off him, severing our connection.
I landed in an undignified heap on the floor, my heart smashing against each rib as if it wanted to escape its prison and fall back into his arms.
I scrambled away, panting hard, bashing into the coffee table.
What was that?
What had he done?
What the hell happened?
Lucien sat forward, bracing his elbows on his knees. He buried his face in his hands, his chest rising and falling as he sucked in lungfuls of air. His fingers flexed in his hairline like claws.
His chin tipped up, eyes glowing with fury. “How can you be so brazen...so shameless?”
“Shameless?” I blinked, trying to reboot my brain. “I don’t—”
“I told you I’ll never be with anyone in that way.”
“But...but you kissed me.”
“Get out,” he whispered, quietly, murderously.
Scrambling to my feet, I struggled to understand how I was at fault. “But—”
“LEAVE!”
Whisper leapt to his paws at Lucien’s roar.
My stress levels reached their limit, and I staggered.
I wanted to clear my name—to ensure this hadn’t gone irreversibly wrong, but I almost fainted there and then.
Lucien shot upright, clutching his chest as the metal disc beeped and flickered red. He grunted and almost fell to his knees. “GO! Get the fuck out of here!”
I fled.
Chapter Thirty-Nine

WHAT THE HELL DID I DO?
What sort of curse had she put on me to make me abandon my strict promise never to go near a woman in this nightmarish place?
The moment her fingers had touched me, I’d lost all control.
The first press of her thumbs on the cords of my neck made every nerve in my body seize. The soft kneading of her fingers along my shoulders eroded all my fight. And the delicious scratch of her fingernails over my scalp completely undid me.
I was used to agony—its bite, its burn, its never-ending misery.
But her?
Her touch had been different.
She touched me as a human, as a man, and not the commodity I’d been turned into.
She didn’t deliver conditioned and expected pain but foreign and unknown pleasure.
I hadn’t even known what pleasure was until that moment. Until that terrifying, horrifying, wonderful fucking moment where she’d draped over me and pressed her cheek to mine.
She was the first person to actually give me something with no strings, agendas, or expectations.
I couldn’t handle it.
I couldn’t accept it—far too conditioned to pay a price I could never afford.
My fingers strayed to my mouth, my lips still stinging from hers.
Every moment, of every day, I braced for pain.
I’d completely forgotten what it was like to breathe without wanting to howl. I lived in a constant clench against the scalding fire, but somehow, the longer she touched me, the quieter that pain became. My blood stopped burning. My bones stopped scorching.
Her touch chased every nightmare back into whatever hell they came from, and I couldn’t do it.
I’d grabbed her before I could think.
I’d turned my head before I could stop.
I’d kissed her with every drop of fear and betrayal, fury and agony I’d endured.
I hadn’t been gentle.
I’d been savage and desperate and drowning.
And for one impossible heartbeat, my imprisonment vanished. No fire. No agony. Just silence and peace and her.
Which fucking petrified me.
Standing in the shadows beneath a weeping willow in the grounds of Cinderkeep, I balled my hands and reinforced my decision never to get close to her again. No matter how much she made me feel, I couldn’t let down my guard.
Even if she wasn’t Marcus’s weapon.
Even if she was exactly what she said with no ulterior motives, I couldn’t find comfort in her because the only reason she was in here was to make me trip. To make me fall into pleasure and connection and ultimately sex, which would eventually lead to pregnancy because Marcus would’ve made damn sure every girl he tossed in here wasn’t on birth control.
My teeth clenched as yet another horrifying thought crushed me.
Marcus’s aim was to breed me—to gain multiple Ashfall offspring.
He would happily give me a harem of women to do with as I pleased, yet...what if I actually fell in love with one of them?
What if I gave away the only part of myself that wasn’t owned by another, only for it to be used against me?
He could threaten me, hurt me, and make me wish to die a thousand times over and I would never break.
But trap my heart in love?
What would I be willing to do if it meant I could keep her safe?
Vague memories of my parents filled my head. I stiffened as the past that my mind had systematically done its best to erase reminded me of how love had caused their demise. How sibling affection had been used against them in order to keep each other alive.
How they’d agreed to create me—purely so the other wouldn’t be slaughtered—only to willingly choose suicide when my birth wasn’t enough.
The board wanted more. They commanded them to continue forsaking the bonds of brother and sister and to procreate.
Instead, they’d abandoned me to suffer for them—
“Enough!” I snarled, my voice slicing through the quiet night.
Whisper flinched beside me, his glowing eyes searching mine with concern. My shoulders sagged as I rested my hand on his head. “I’m fine.”
He huffed as if he didn’t believe me.
But...I was telling the truth.
I might not have meant to kiss Rook. I might hate her for making me lose control and have zero intention of ever letting something like that happen again, but her closeness had done something to me.
I’d felt it that night when she’d come into my room when I’d been suffering.
I’d felt it as Whisper pushed her onto my bed and we collided, skin to skin.
I basked in it every day that her cooling, calming presence permeated the air of my home, offering me salvation just from being around her.
But I hadn’t been prepared for how kissing her would make me feel.
The agony, the pain, the never-ending torture stopped.
It just...disappeared.
Maybe that was why she terrified me more than Marcus ever could.
Because she somehow had the power to change everything.
Stalking from the coverage of the willow fronds, I kept the dagger hidden in my coat sleeve while the bent piece of wire I’d spent years tweaking rested in my pocket.
Whisper padded at my side, his paws soundless on the grass. His luminous eyes flicked to me, a question glowing with accusation. After fifteen years together, the annoying beast had become my conscience, reflecting all my fears back at me.
“I know,” I muttered, keeping my voice low as we headed toward the only weak spot in the entire wall. “This isn’t a good idea.”
He tilted his head, grunting with a flash of fang.
“The chances of succeeding are slim.” My mouth twisted in something between a snarl and a smile. “But fuck the consequences.”
Whisper’s tail lashed once.
“I don’t care what will happen if we manage to get out. That’s tomorrow’s problem.”
He snapped at a moth flitting past, then scowled in my direction.
“You’re so pessimistic. I won’t die.”
He yawned.
“Thanks for the confidence.”
Picking up my pace, I kept as much as I could to the shadows. Crossing a dead patch of grass, I glanced over my shoulder at the castle that was my prison.
It sulked in the middle of flickering flames, soaking up the numerous fires without a single light in its windows. It looked like a crypt, a tomb, and I was the dead crawling out of it.
Breaking into a jog, grateful my head remained clear and my muscles didn’t seize, I pressed against the iron gates and sucked in a shallow breath.
Whisper pressed against my thigh, his mouth parted and black gums shiny with spit. He glanced at me, shaking his head as if highly disappointed in me.
“What?” I snapped. “Do you expect me to just give up and stay in this hellhole?”
He rolled his eyes.
“I have to try. If I only manage to kill Marcus before they kill me, then fine. At least I’ve fulfilled a tiny part of my revenge.”
Looking away from the panther’s judgement, I eyed up the fortified gates. Thanks to years of trying to escape, I’d learned almost every flaw of this compound. Every crack, every faulty hinge, every unpatrolled spot. It hadn’t helped me break out because I could never fight the vitalsync core, but perhaps tonight I’d get lucky.
Moving to the triple lock that included two huge deadbolts on the other side, I ignored how pointless all of this was and pulled the twisted piece of wire from my pocket.
My pulse thundered as I bent closer, working the wire into one of the mechanisms.
My hands went slippery with sweat, my heart beating like a drum.
“Calm down.” My voice sounded too loud. “Don’t trigger another dose.”
Forcing myself to breathe through my nose, I jiggled the wire around, trying to spring the lock.
“Come on. Open.”
Whisper whined, his hackles rising as he stared into the dark behind me.
“You deal with it,” I ordered. “I’m busy.”
With a hiss, he stalked forward, tail dead straight.
The urge to look over my shoulder to see how many assassins had found me, battled with the desperation to unlock this fucking door.
Whisper snarled, low and threatening.
A nervous feminine laugh replied.
At least one would-be killer had arrived.
My temper suddenly exploded.
I flung away the useless wire, yanked the dagger from my sleeve, and inserted the tip into the lock. I hacked at it instead of teased.
I hated this.
All of it.
I was disgustingly claustrophobic.
Driven to breaking point.
Moments away from snapping and burning and slaughtering every-goddamn-thing and every-fucking-one in this motherfucking place.
I needed out.
NOW!!!!!
My heart rate soared past my control.
A hot, painful punch cut through my coat and sank into my shoulder. I cursed and spun around.
Three of them.
Probably the last three I hadn’t dispatched out of the sixteen or so who’d come to murder me. They formed a semi-circle, bleeding from the night, dressed all in black like me.
The dark-skinned model to my left grinned, knowing she’d hurt me with whatever weapon she’d thrown.
I felt it embedded in my shoulder, blood oozing down my spine.
Over the years, they’d tried different methods to take my life. Throwing stars, knives, a metal garrotte—one even sneaked in a collapsible bow and arrow.
Why Marcus allowed it, I didn’t know. Perhaps he liked the sport of watching me fight to survive, all while knowing I begged for death. Maybe he hated me so much, even the allure of all the money my company made him couldn’t quite stop the glee he’d feel at killing me.
Either way, I was getting sick and fucking tired of this never-ending war—of not having a say in my own existence.
Whisper’s low rumble tainted the night.
Fisting the dagger for a different purpose instead of a jailbreak, I glanced at each woman. “I wouldn’t bother if I were you. You don’t stand a chance.”
The brunette grinned. “I think we stand a very good chance.”
I arched my chin at Whisper. “With one slash of his claws, your intestines will be all over the lawn.”
“Not if we gut him first.”
“Go ahead.” I smirked. “I’ll wait.”
The circle tightened.
I let them look at me like I was prey. Let them think they would win. Who knew, perhaps they might—
A high-pitched whine echoed behind me, coming from the other side of the wall.
I stiffened.
The hum grew louder, followed by another and another and another.
My shoulders slouched as all hope of getting free tonight—no matter how ridiculous—blew up spectacularly in my face.
I might as well go to bed because that was where Marcus was about to send me.
With a heavy, bone-weary sigh, I pushed off from the gate as ten drones flew over the wall and clustered like a swarm of mechanical wasps overhead.
It only took three seconds.
The drones lined up with the girls.
They went to run.
And then dropped dead thanks to bullets fired directly from the snipers mounted on the flying machines.
Whisper leapt upward, trying to snatch the closest one.
Marcus’s voice echoed, smooth and amused. “Lucien, Lucien, Lucien.”
I gave him the finger and stalked back to Cinderkeep.
The drone followed me even as Whisper tried swatting it again.
“Must you always be so dramatic?” Marcus tutted. “You should know by now there’s no escape unless I give you one.”
I didn’t bother turning around.
My heart fluttered with twenty years of hate. One of these days, I would get my revenge. One day, I would kill him.
Slowly.
Painfully.
I would relish in his screams.
“I see you’re feeling rather good tonight. There’s almost a pep in your step,” Marcus said, the buzz of the drone making my ears ring. “It seems I’ve been remiss in monitoring your dose.”
Shit.
My hands fisted but I refused to give him the satisfaction of my misery.
So much for Rook curing me.
So much for feeling normal and healthy and—
PAIN.
The vitalsync core clicked, beeped, and drenched me with burning, burning agony.
My knees hit the grass as every muscle seized, every bone sizzled, every droplet of blood turned molten.
My spine arched, my skin blistered, even the roots of my teeth felt scorched.
Every breath was full of knives. Every blink set my skull throbbing.
Colours bled out of my vision.
Whisper’s howl turned to a whimper.
Consciousness abandoned me as the pain became too much.
I fell sideways.
I bit my tongue as I landed.
And choked on precious Ashfall blood as I passed out.
Chapter Forty

I STOOD OUTSIDE MY PAVILION, WATCHING the drones put on a show.
I didn’t know why they’d suddenly appeared over the wall or why so many of them clustered in one spot. Whatever the reason, I’d heard a soft popping sound while getting a midnight snack and came out to investigate.
Shivering in the cooler evening, I rubbed my arms as the twinkling lights on the drones danced like comets. I counted ten, weaving around each other, almost forming patterns.
If I let my eyes go hazy, I could almost imagine it was a lightshow like the one I’d witnessed in Hong Kong on New Year’s a few years ago. Back then, there’d been thousands of flying machines, all programmed to spiral and combine, transforming into a sinuous dragon in the sky.
Watching them had been calming. But tonight, these felt...oppressive.
Their lights were too bright, too...hunting. Their movements too fierce and threatening.
My floor-length white satin nightgown couldn’t protect me from an icy chill. Not because of the cutting breeze, but because the longer I watched them, the more I felt something was dreadfully wrong.
Were some of the girls in trouble?
Was Laura okay?
Lucien?
My feet moved to go. To dash across the grounds to see why those nasty drones hovered like murderous sentries but...my temples throbbed.
Even if I did race over there...what could I do?
What if something really bad had happened?
I barely stomached seeing the lumpy body bags being carried out of Lucien’s palace without passing out. Let alone seeing a girl bleeding and glassy-eyed—no matter how heartless she was.
“Best just to stay here,” I whispered. “Go back to bed. This isn’t your fight.”
Call me weak or useless, but I knew my limits.
My heart squeezed as I turned to leave, but I looked over my shoulder.
My thoughts filled with Lucien. Of the way he’d kissed me so violently, so hungrily. Of the way I’d been too shocked, too overcome to kiss him back.
He wouldn’t pay for that, would he?
Those drones weren’t for him, were they?
I turned to face them again, a gush of nausea working through my system.
What if he was hurt?
What if they’d done something to him—
The drones suddenly shot upward and vanished over the wall, taking their lightshow with them. The sky seemed darker and domineering with them gone, an aura of cruelty clinging to the breeze.
I shuddered and stared at the faint stars above.
I couldn’t shed the feeling that something bad had happened to Lucien, even though common sense told me to calm the hell down.
Turning my back on the repressive night, I entered my pavilion’s courtyard and stood next to the quietly singing stream.
Ugh, who was I kidding?
I wouldn’t be able to go back to sleep now.
I should go and check on him.
I could sneak into his palace, creep into his bedroom, and—
He’d kill me for thinking I was there to sleep with him.
Ugh, forget it.
My shoulders slouched as I shuffled to bed.
I’d only make things worse.
He’s fine.
I’m sure he’s fine.
If I repeated it enough, hopefully I would eventually believe it.
Chapter Forty-One

I SHOT AWAKE AS SOMETHING HEAVY AND huge sprang on top of me.
“Ahhh!” My scream cut through the darkness as twin predator eyes glowered from above. Slapping both hands over my mouth, I froze solid.
I could barely make out the panther’s sleek, midnight outline as he crouched over me, tail whipping, fangs bared.
I squeezed my eyes closed, preparing to die.
I didn’t know what for or why tonight, but Lucien had obviously commanded Whisper to end me.
Was it because of the kiss?
Wasn’t that his fault, not mine?
When death didn’t come, I balled my hands under my chin and whimpered, “If you’re going to do it, can you hurry up?”
Whisper snarled.
I burrowed deeper into my blankets, only for him to launch off me and yank them away with his teeth.
He snapped at my nightgown, a rigid line of fur bristling along his back.
“W-What are you doing?”
The panther growled, a furious rumble that made my spine snap straight. Putting both paws on the bed again, he loomed over me, pushing his muzzle against my nose, the tips of his fangs flashing.
He roared right in my face.
I cringed away from the reek of carrion breath. “What on earth are you doing?”
Pushing off from the mattress, he dropped to all fours and raced toward the door. He roared again, tail whipping, eyes wide with...worry.
Understanding punched me hard. “Lucien.”
Leaping out of bed, all dregs of sleep vanished, leaving me with a wickedly sharp headache.
I didn’t bother asking questions that Whisper couldn’t answer. I merely grabbed a long-sleeved cream dressing gown—that was so long it trailed behind me—and slipped into it.
Tying it tight, I bolted.
“Where is he?” My bare feet flew over the carpet then sank into dew-cold grass.
Whisper loped beside me; his gaze locked on the palace in the distance. His hot breath fogged the cold night as he snapped at my elbow, making me run faster.
I’d never been a runner. Never been able to stomach the rise in my pulse and the pounding in my head, but tonight...I shut down all my discomfort and ran as fast as I could.
The journey through the flame-flickering gardens seemed to take forever. Lantern light skittered across the pebbled pathways and manicured hedges, granting morbid, hellish shadows.
I braced myself to find Evelyn and Lydia on the main steps where they usually lurked. I had no doubt if they tried to stop me, Whisper would tear them into pieces.
But the stairs were blessedly empty.
The door to Cinderkeep’s mansion hung open.
I choked on a stitch as the black stone palace swallowed us whole.
I’d thought running inside would be better than outside, but it was worse.
No light in here. No flames. No guidance.
Relying on familiarity from cleaning every inch, I chased after Whisper as he pulled ahead of me, streaking down the corridor.
He took a left and then a right, leading me deeper into the heart of Lucien’s home.
I expected him to race toward Lucien’s quarters—to take the path leading toward the only place his master let down his guard—but he didn’t. He took another left at the octagonal foyer, galloping toward the back of the property where I’d found the glass-surrounded swimming pool.
I skidded to a stop as we bolted into the warm muggy air of the conservatory. The smack of chlorine and density of tropical plants made my nose wrinkle.
Whisper snarled as he doubled back and snapped at my ankles, forcing me to keep moving.
“Okay, okay. I get it. Take me to him. Where is he?”
His tail whipped me as he spun around and led me past the pool to the rockery where the misty spa and cold plunge had been carefully hidden in an oasis of plants and privacy.
I staggered to a stop.
In the middle of the cold plunge, Lucien sat stiff and shaking.
Skin pale and waxen against the glacial clear water, his naked chest straining as he breathed hard. The silver metal stamped over his heart looked so severe compared to the flexing muscles of his flat abdomen. Blood stained the corner of his mouth—a streak down to his chin. His thick black hair hung over his forehead, shivering slightly with every inhale.
With his eyes tightly closed, he moaned—a small, raw sound that stabbed my heart with a thousand knives.
His hands balled on his bare thighs below the water’s surface. A band of black underwear rippling with the pool’s refractions. Moonlight poured in from the glass ceiling, casting everything in monochrome silver.
Every rational thought perished as I drank him in.
Patches of crimson heat glowed over his chest, the silver disc flashing with a red morbid light.
Whisper paced around the cold plunge, leaping onto the rocks and hissing with panic. Swiping at his master, he tried to get his attention, but Lucien never moved. Never opened his eyes.
I bit my lip as a ripple of red ribboned on the water’s surface, coming from behind him.
He’s hurt?
I stepped forward, drawn by compassion and worry and a heart full of emotions I didn’t want to name.
Whisper leapt onto my side of the pool and bared his teeth.
I flinched. “I know. I know you want me to help but I don’t know how.”
He snarled again, stalking right toward me.
“Nice, kitty...” I backed up—
My foot slipped on the edge; I almost lost my balance. With my arms flying outward, I caught myself and stabilised. “Whoa, that was close.”
Whisper snorted and pounced, shoving me over.
“No—!”
Frigid water crashed over my head, stealing my thoughts, my sanity, my very ability to breathe. My dressing gown turned heavy, dragging me to the bottom. I floundered, kicking off from the icy tiles below. Breaking the surface, I gasped and spluttered. With trembling hands, I shoved my soaking hair out of the way and wiped my face free from needles of ice.
Shock stung my skin.
The water was so cold it burned.
“What the hell are you doing in here?”
My head ripped up as I locked eyes with Lucien.
His pupils were endless black holes of pain. His lips tinged blue as he shivered, the water waking around us from my fall.
He didn’t move. Didn’t reach for me. His eyelashes glittering with frosty droplets. “Well?” he demanded.
Whisper circled around us, crashing through the planted ferns and foliage, a growl low and rumbling like quiet thunder.
Lucien snarled back. “Will you stop being such a pain in the ass, you bloody beast?”
Whisper froze.
“I’m fine!” Lucien flushed with fresh pain, his throat working as he battled through it. “I’ve told you a million times, I won’t die tonight. You can’t get rid of me that easily.”
Whisper held his master’s stare before slouching like a dejected tabby cat. His ears flattened, his shoulders tucking tight as his head hung low.
My heart hurt for the poor thing.
“He’s j-just w-worried about you,” I muttered, my teeth chattering so much I feared I’d bite my tongue off. “W-Why are y-you freezing y-yourself t-to death?” Wrapping my arms around my waist, I hunched as much as I could. At least the plunge pool wasn’t deep. At least I didn’t have to swim.
“You don’t get to ask questions,” he snapped. “Answer mine. Why. Are. You. Here?”
“H-He brought me.”
“And you thought that meant you could trespass in the dead of night?”
I scowled, another bone-rattling shiver working down my spine. “H-He d-didn’t e-exactly give m-me a c-choice.” I pointed with a sodden, heavy arm at his depressed panther, now plastering himself against the rock. “B-Blame him. Not m-me.”
“Your teeth chattering is insanely annoying.” Swooping to his feet from where he sat on the submerged seat, he waded toward me, scooped me like a bride in his frigid arms, and carried me toward the edge.
Every part of me froze, woke up, and sizzled.
His body was unnaturally hot, as if his blood was on fire beneath his skin. Warmth curled off him in waves, soaking into my frozen flesh that had nothing to do with the fact he held me half-naked, tight against his chest, clutching me as if I meant something.
Our eyes locked and he hissed through his teeth.
My fingers found his shoulders out of reflex, clutching at slick, rock-hard muscle. Muscle I’d massaged. Muscle that was riddled with knots.
His bare skin felt like searing silk.
The cold water almost turned to steam around us. My night clothes clung to me, satin and lace plastering to every inch of my curves. Even numb from the cold water, I could feel everything about him—the ridges of his abdominals, the jagged rhythm of his breath, the raw, unnatural heat radiating from his chest into mine.
He lowered me onto the edge of the pool. His forehead brushed mine, barely a touch as he settled me on dry land, but it sent an electrical shock through my entire body.
His voice was hoarse as he planted his hands on either side of my dripping thighs, gripping the pool edge. “You shouldn’t be here.”
“W-What h-happened to you?” I caught the glint of red on my fingers—the hand that’d wrapped around his back for purchase. “Y-You’re b-bleeding?”
“Go change.” He arched a chin at the changing rooms hidden in another wall of flowers and ferns. “Any longer and you’ll get frostbite.” His lips twitched. “And there’s no one in here who can help you if you do. I certainly won’t.”
“B-But—”
Grabbing my hand streaked with his blood, he wiped his wet one over it, removing any evidence of his injury. “Go.”
The cold seeped past my skeleton into my very soul. “I-I don’t t-think I c-can m-move.”
His eyes dove into mine, piercing and full of disdain, yet beneath his familiar look of frustrated hate, I caught a glimpse of nervousness.
He glanced at my lips, his jaw clenching.
The ferocity of his stare woke something powerful and feral trapped deep within me. Every breath we took seemed to sync, each exhale a little faster, shallower, as the night webbed us tighter together. Whatever he’d ignited within me clawed to get free, to touch him, know him, help him—
His hand suddenly came up—hesitant and shaking. Without a word, he brushed wet, heavy hair from my cheek, his fingers scorching me.
I gasped.
He ripped his hand back as if he hadn’t meant to touch me. As if he’d reached out against all his control. “Go,” he ordered.
His voice was as arctic as the water but his eyes...
They held an ocean of secretive things. Wanting things. Hungry things.
All it took was a single stare full of chaos and confusion—one hint that he was affected—to fling me explosively to my feet.
His eyebrows rose as he looked up.
His hair clung to his forehead, droplets racing down his neck, and rivuleting over the silver disc in his chest. The red light had stopped blinking, a green light replacing it, flickering dimly with his pulse.
I hated that thing with a passion.
I wanted to tear it out of him.
Help him.
Save him.
He glanced down at the disc, his hands balling beneath the water. When he looked back up again, his face was unreadable. “Go change.”
My mind raced to know. My tongue burned with questions. “Is there any way to remove it?”
His lips thinned. “If there was, don’t you think I would’ve by now?”
My temper grew hotter, combatting the chills from the cold plunge. For the millionth time, I wished I hadn’t failed at life. That I wasn’t so broken by emotions and had somehow applied myself. I could’ve become a doctor so I could unlock his heart from whatever shackles they’d bound him in.
What sort of life was it that his every heartbeat betrayed him? That they harnessed the very thing keeping him alive—turning it into a weapon?
Another bloom of blood appeared in the water, spreading behind him. “T-Turn around.” My shivers still made my teeth chatter even as my insides warmed with rebellion. “Let me see how badly they hurt you.”
He didn’t obey, his eyes tight and cutting. “I’ve already dealt with it.”








