Copyright © 2024 by Mindy Paige

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Edited by Jenny Sims (Editing4Indies)

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THE DEVIL’S VICE

When Lillith Harper saves the life of the deadliest member of the Hellfyre Motorcycle club, his appreciation quickly turns to obsession.

The main problem? It's not entirely unwelcome. Even when people around her start to turn up missing. Or worse—dead.

There's something familiar about the scarred man, but Lillith can't seem to put her finger on it. Not that she’s trying too hard. Instead, her focus is on juggling the responsibility of her new position while battling the twisted desire at the thought of her masked stalker.

But she's about to find out that when you dance with the devil for long enough, you pick up some of his habits.

PREFACE

This novel contains scenes that may not be suitable for all readers. For more information, visit this page for a detailed content warning.

FOREWORD

Hello, darling.

Ghost here. Did you read the content warning?

Yes?

What a good girl. I knew I could count on you to do what you were told. If you were smart, you would have run, but I suppose this is the next best thing.

I know, I know. But it’s for your own good. And you’re such a good girl, aren’t you?

Unless you’re not. Unless you want to see what’s inside, to fill that pretty head with all sorts of depravity.

We really are so alike, you and I.

Since you’re so determined, I guess I’ll see you later. Till then, darling. <3

Kisses,

Ghost

PART ONE

THE TAKING

CHAPTER ONE

LILLITH

This isn’t real. It can’t be.

The tip of the revolver glints angrily beneath the flickering street lamp, and I push my face into the back of Mom’s knees so I don’t have to look at it anymore. I don’t understand what’s happening. We were supposed to be taking a shortcut home, and now… I grip the flower Daddy gave me tighter, plucking one of its pretty white petals and making a wish like he taught me.

“Give me your wallet,” the man growls, gesturing to Daddy’s coat pocket with the weapon. His features are hidden by a ski mask, save for a pair of cruel silver eyes, cutting through the shadows like hateful flames.

“I don’t want your life, but I won’t think twice about taking it if you don’t give me what I want.” His gaze shifts to Mom. “Then you and I can have some fun, doll.”

“How dare you.” Dad steps forward, but Mom shoots an arm out and hauls him back.

“Harold, stop,” she orders, her voice shaking heavily as she turns her gaze to the bad man. “Sir, please. We don’t have any money. Do you really think we’d be in this neighborhood if we—”

“Shut the fuck up!” he barks, turning his weapon on her. “One more word and I paint the walls with your brain. And you…” He takes a step toward Daddy, shoving the tip of the gun into his chest. “You must think I’m pretty stupid, huh? I see the coat you’re wearing. It must have cost you a pretty penny.”

“I-it’s for my job,” he stutters. “My wife was telling the truth. I don’t have any money to give you.”

The flames narrow to slits. “The coat. Give it to me.”

Daddy’s throat bobs as he shrugs an arm out of the sleeve, so focused on the deadly man he doesn’t notice me race out from behind Mommy’s legs.

“Stop it!” I order, standing bravely in front of the bad man. The top of my head only comes up to his waist, and I have to push my chin way up to the sky in order to glare at him, but that doesn’t stop me.

“My daddy needs that coat for work!” I shout, wielding the flower in my chubby palm like a weapon. “He worked hard and saved up for it. You can’t just take it!”

“Lillith!” he breathes, his voice shaking with horror. “Get behind me, NOW!”

“No, Daddy!” I cry, swooping under his arm as he tries to drag me back by force. “He can’t just take it! You need it!”

“Please, lilly flower,” he sobs. It makes me pause. I’ve never, never, never heard my Daddy sound like that.

“I’m getting tired of this shit.” The masked man groans, holding the gun loosely in his grip as he alternates aiming it at each of us. “Eeny meeny miny mo…”

It lands on Mom, and Dad’s face crumples.

“No, please!” he chokes, stepping in front of her. “Please, don’t—”

Bang!

Warmth splatters across my face, and I wince, dropping the flower. I bend down to grab it, but something red is dripping from its pretty white petals. Drip, drip, dripping onto the concrete.

Bang! Bang!

“NO!” I scream, jerking upright. Heart hammering, I suck in a breath through my nose, trying desperately to gain my bearings. I’m in bed. I’m safe. It was just a dream.

I run my hands over the bedsheets, focusing on my breathing and the sounds of the city outside my window. Anything—anything but that horrible memory.

I’ve never made it to the end of the dream, and try as I might, I can’t remember how I made it out alive. I’ve pored over the police records and talked to medical staff and social workers who saw me that night, and their stories are all the same: one night eighteen years ago, a little girl was seen running down the side of the highway, splatters of blood on her pretty pink dress. The police picked me up and took me to the hospital, where they treated some minor cuts and bruises, and that was it. No questions asked. I have no way of knowing what really happened that night or who saved me.

I sigh bitterly and throw my legs over the side of the bed. It’s still dark out, and a quick glance at the alarm tells me I have over an hour before I need to leave for work. There’s no way in hell I’m going back to sleep, though. I’d be a fool to risk a repeat of that nightmare.

My nose scrunches in disgust as I push my dampened hair off my forehead. What I really need is a shower.

Reaching beneath my raven hair, I unclasp the golden locket hanging between my breasts. I hold the golden heart in my palm for a moment, running my thumb over the tarnished brass engraving.

Our lovely lilly flower.

After my parents' death, the few belongings they had were pawned to pay for funeral costs. So when my foster mom pulled me aside on my sixth birthday and explained the gift my parents commissioned for the special day, I could hardly believe it. After mourning them for two weeks, I finally had something tangible to remember them by. Something to stop their memory from fading into nothingness.

It was one of the best days of my life.

I smile, but the motion makes the muscles in my face ache, so I stop. With a sigh, I place the locket on the mattress and turn toward the bathroom. I’m about to pass the threshold when a soft noise stops me in my tracks.

Tap… tap… tap.

With a jolt of something akin to joy, I race over to the window where a small pigeon sits on the windowsill, its beautiful silver feathers barely visible in the shadows. The window shudders and strains against its rusted frame, but with enough force, I’m able to create a space large enough to fit my arm through.

“Good morning, Herb. How’s the missus?” I ask, reaching out to scratch the deep green feathers on his crop. The bird coos in reply, and my lips tip in a smile.

Herb has been tapping at my window for the past few months I’ve been living here, and occasionally, a smaller white pigeon will accompany him on his visits. It doesn’t look like he’s brought her today, which is fine because I’m almost out of birdseed.

“Sometimes I think you leave her at home on purpose,” I muse, pouring the remnants of the seed bag onto the sill. “That way, you don’t have to share your breakfast.”

Herb coos in agreement, then pecks at the seed. I watch him for a while, mesmerized by the way his tiny black beak breaks the shells with ease.

Pigeons are actually quite cute if you take the time to be kind to them. Most people don’t, though, and it’s only that much more sad if you know their history. We domesticated them thousands of years ago, and when they stopped being useful, we cast them to the side, labeling them as dirty, foul creatures when they hang around us because we bred them to do.

I lean my forearms on the sill, watching Herb finish his breakfast. It can’t be all bad to be a pigeon, I suppose. Especially if you’re a pigeon whose name is Herb.

“Do you ever get lonely, Herb? Probably not. But I doubt you think about those things. I guess that’s another bonus to being a pigeon…” I muse, gazing out at the sleeping city. Moriton is a dirty place—a grimy, crime-ridden hellhole of an area to live in—but in these early hours, before the day has started, it’s easier to find the silver lining. It’s almost nice before the hustle and bustle begins again.

My chest squeezes as people begin to stir, and lights come on behind windows. I wonder about the lives they belong to. If they have family, friends, or someone to come home to at night. If they’re happy, or if they’re just as lonesome as me.

A soft coo breaks me out of my thoughts, and I give Herb a sympathetic glance.

“Sorry, buddy. I’m all out,” I say, shaking the empty bag for good measure. He pins me with those beady little eyes, fluffs himself, then takes to the sky.

Shaking my head, I force the window shut and pad into the bathroom. I won’t have time before my shift at the hospital to pick up more seed, and by the time I get off, all the stores will have closed.

Oh well. Herb will just have to eat breadcrumbs tomorrow. I have lives to save.

“Trauma incoming. All personnel stand by.”

The disembodied voice kickstarts my heart and pumps adrenaline through my veins. Twisting my thumb around the thin gold chain dangling from my neck, I skim the crash cart's contents, ensuring I have everything I need for when they bring the patient in.

I’ve been interning in emergency medicine for the past few weeks, and of the things I’ve learned, self-preparation is probably the most vital. There truly is a split second between life and death, and if you’re not mentally and physically prepared, the patient will die.

I’m trying not to think about the latter half of that, considering every case I’ve worked on this week has had me shaking like a leaf. A leaf in the middle of a twister.

I shove my panic down and focus on my breathing, my four years of medical school, the array of instruments in my crash cart. Anything—anything other than the moment they wheel the patient in.

Because when they do, I’ll have to prove myself. Prove that even though I’m only twenty-four, I’m just as qualified as the other interns in this hospital.

I’m broken from my thoughts as a loud cacophony sounds out as the bay doors crash open and a team of staff wheel two separate stretchers in. My body moves on autopilot as I rush over to the first body, taking in the brevity of the situation with a single glance.

Drew speaks first, looking ashen despite his years of experience as a trauma nurse. “Caucasian male in his thirties. Bullet wound to the chest,” he prattles off from the chart in his hand. “They stabilized him on the way over, but his pressure took a nosedive when the ambulance pulled up.”

I look down at the limp form on the stretcher and have to stifle a gasp. Every inch of the man’s skin is covered in intricate black tattoos, except his face. The left side is ungodly handsome, with a striking jawline and full lips that would make even the most experienced women swoon. But the right… is something out of a horror movie.

Rippling, pale scars cover the majority of his face and neck, deforming the flesh horrifically. His eye socket is scarred over, the thickness of the skin reminding me of a burn victim I treated earlier this month, only twice as horrifying.

I’ve never seen anything like it. He must be in agony every waking moment of the day.

In a trance, I reach my fingertips toward his chest. I trace them over the clammy flesh, frowning at the bumpy texture that greets me. Every millimeter of his inked flesh is pulled taut, threatening to burst at the seams from the amount of scarring. Several welts resembling bullet wound scars pepper his extremities, though none are in a place where they would have done any major damage. That is, except for the one only two inches to the right of his heart.

I search the left side of his face, an aura of déjà vu swirling in the back of my mind. On second glance, he looks strangely familiar, but I can’t think of a single instance I would’ve seen him—apart from in a slasher film, that is.

“What’s the story on the scars?” I pull my gaze up to Drew. “Not just his face, I mean. His body is covered in them.”

Drew shrugs, looking more concerned with the gushing hole in his sternum. “By the looks of this guy, he’s into some pretty bad shit. A part of me never wants to know.”

At the insinuation, I retract my hand. “How’s the other guy?” I ask.

“Don’t know. Don’t care,” Drew grunts, taking a step back from the bed as a team of nurses swirls around us. “And neither should you. Guys who come in looking like this don’t last very long.” As soon as he says it, the man flatlines, and Drew looks at me with an I told you so. A shrill alarm sounds, and Dr. Slater, the head trauma surgeon, rushes over, taking stock of the situation in a single glance.

“Clear room by the head!” he orders, rushing around to the top of the stretcher. I was so distracted earlier that I neglected the first rule of trauma, which is securing the airway.

While one of the nurses pumps the man’s chest, I grab a laryngoscope and hold it out to Dr. Slater. Blood spurts from the open wound, and he gives me a desperate look.

“You’ve done your round in anesthesia, right?” he asks, baby blues shining hopefully behind his thin spectacles.

My throat is like sandpaper as I swallow, and even though my whole body trembles, I give the weathered surgeon a nod. “I remember enough.”

“Good,” he grunts, stepping to the side to give me access to the top of the bed. My eyes widen, a brick sitting in the pit of my stomach as I realize what he expects me to do.

“Dr. Slater, I don’t know if I can do it without help—”

“Lillith! He’s dying!” Dr. Slater barks. “Look around you, there’s no one else! I have to stop the bleeding, so you need to secure the airway. NOW!”

In a kind of trance, I step to the head of the bed and angle the patient’s head backward to give me a better view of his windpipe. His short midnight hair is strangely soft in my hands, and I have the urge to run my fingers through it.

What the hell? I shake off the thought, picking up the laryngoscope and placing the blade against his bottom row of teeth, desperately trying to remember something from my rounds in anesthesia.

Using the leverage of the hooked blade, I force his mouth open and maneuver the light so I can see deep into his throat.

“Shit.” I curse under my breath. I wasted too much time, and his airway has almost closed. Pulse thrumming, I grab an NT tube and feed the device through his nasal cavity and down his throat.

“Okay, almost there…” I mumble, trying every turn and angle to get the slim tube through the swollen tissue.

“Fuck!” I scream, ripping the tube out after another unsuccessful attempt. I rifle through the crash cart, grabbing the slimmest tube on hand that’s still long enough to fit past his vocal cords.

I angle the man’s head back the same way as before, placing the MAC blade against his teeth and using the leverage to force his mouth open before feeding the tube inside. Blood rushes in my ears, drowning out the sound of the monitor screaming with the absence of a pulse. I have exactly thirty seconds before they call it, and I’ve never been so unsure of my capabilities.

In a desperate haze, I shove my ungloved hand into the man’s mouth and use my index finger to feed the tip of the breathing tube past his vocal cords. It makes a little pop as it slides past the barrier, and a cheer of triumph bubbles up in my chest.

“I got it!” I call, taping the tube to the side of his mouth before it can slide back out. There’s no way I would be able to get it in again, and I’m not taking any chances. Someone hands me a breathing bag, and I’ve never been more thankful for an extra set of limbs in my life.

“Alright, guys, let’s get him to the OR!” Dr. Slater orders, moving in perfect sync with the tech who handed me the bag. They wheel the stretcher toward the operating rooms, and I have to run to keep my place at the head. To keep breathing for him.

We pass by a few horrified-looking techs crowding the other patient on a stretcher in the middle of the hall, and Dr. Slater holds up an arm, trying to get the attention of someone.

“Sandra!” he calls, waving for her to follow him. “I need you in OR one with me.”

A woman with shoulder-length, mousy-brown hair whips her head toward the surgeon, her hazel eyes shining with defiance behind Coke-bottle glasses. Not a tech, like I assumed earlier. Head nurse, Sandra Payne.

Her chin wobbles as she whips her head from her patient to the doctor, looking like she’s debating whether to curse him out. “Dr. Slater, you don’t understand. I need to be with him. I—”

“Sandra, that wasn’t a request!” he snaps, looking flustered. “We can only save one! You’re needed with us.”

“But, Dr. Slater, you don’t understand—”

“Come on, everyone!” he orders, cutting her off as he takes off down the hallway. The rubber soles of Sandra’s clogs squeak against the freshly waxed floors as she rushes to keep up, an anxious expression on her face as she shoots one last glance at the other patient.

I try not to think about the last words Dr. Slater said to her as I hasten after the stretcher. If what he said is true, then we deliberately left that other man to die. To bleed out alone.

I don’t have time to think about it because as soon as we crash through the OR doors, the scarred man’s heart rate flattens again.

CHAPTER TWO

KAIN

“Time of death…01:38.”

Thank fuck, at least it’s over. Thirty four years was too many.

As the thought forms, a splitting pain emanates from my temple, and I nearly laugh. Even hell won’t take me. Why would they? There’s nothing left for the devil to want.

It’s an effort to force my eyes open, each slight movement more painful than the last. Once I do, I take my time scanning the surroundings.

Definitely not hell. A bed with gentle white linens. The rhythmic beep-beep-beep of a monitor just out of my vision. The rush of fluids into my veins from an IV in my hand.

Hospital. Hurt. Not dead.

With one question solved, I search my memory to see if my killing shot rang true. If I was finally able to kill the bastard. My foggy mind races through the shrouded memories of the past few hours, searching for an answer. Any sign that I finally did it. Time seems to slip away, my memory as distorted as my vision, until a single peering light breaks through the veil.

Only, it’s not the light I’m looking for.

Adrenaline floods my system, and a door cracks in the attic of my mind, letting a voice—that voice—slip through.

The blood. The blood filling your ears, filling your lungs. Slowly, slowly, slowly drowning you from the inside. The life from your veins, so slippery on the pavement, on your hands. Sticky, icky, slippery life, clinging to whatever it can. Clinging to sanity, clinging to hope where there is none. None. None, none, none, none, none—

I slam my mental weight against that wretched door and clench my fists tight, locking those unbalanced thoughts back where they belong. When there’s no threat of them escaping, I try to take a deep breath past the dense knot in my throat and finally notice the thick plastic tube lodged in my windpipe.

I manage to gasp through the searing pain and crushing weight in my throat and chest. That voice rattles against its confines, but I steel my mind, focusing on taking small breaths through the tube.

In. Out. In. Out.

My muscles unwind as the powerful sedative from the IV courses through my veins, stopping the nerve receptors and muddling my senses. I’m sure whatever they’re pumping into me is making it harder to block out that inner voice, but I can’t do anything about it now. No escape from the lashings.

Death is a warm blanket. Soothing nothingness. To fall. To slip. Down, down, down the rabbit hole.

I rail against the door until the soft sounds of crying call my attention, offering a blissful distraction. A young woman in blue scrubs sits on the floor in the corner of the room with her head in her hands, her whole body wracking with the effort to hold in her sobs. She’s pretty, and even though I’m halfway dead, my cock twitches below the thin hospital gown.

I didn’t think there was enough blood left in me to do that.

It’s because you’re sick. Sick, sick, sick.

My mind refocuses, slamming the barricade on that door as I notice the team of hospital staff across the room. They quickly scurry from one place to the next, one pleading wreck to another. A team of nurses rip the cords from a man lying motionless in bed as a white-gowned man—doctor—checks his watch. The monitor beside the bed showcases a flat red line where a heartbeat should be, and a spark of hope lights my veins.

Maybe it’s Myers. Maybe—maybe I really did kill him.

In a flash, the team transfers the body to a stretcher, taking care to cover the gaunt, pallid face with a sheet before wheeling it from the room. I try to make out the face to see if I recognize my father’s mouth before the sheet covers him, but I have no luck.

Suddenly, a gust of cool air smacks my right cheek, and my line of thought flips.

The mask. Where is it? Where, where, where? They’ll see you, and they’ll vomit. They’ll run, they’ll scream, scream, scream. Kill. Kill them all before they see.

The heart monitor beside me picks up pace, and the girl’s head whips to me.

“You’re awake.”

A blanket of quiet falls over my mind at her tinkling voice. I watch her rub an arm across her face—forcefully, as if she’s angry at the tears for being there. Then she stands from the bed and strides over to me, those blue scrubs swishing around her ankles. They’re horribly faded and baggy, with soft tears at some of the seams and worn down so thin over time and reuse that the outline of her breasts and her hips is clearly visible.

The heart monitor screams as she rushes over to my bedside. Her face pales in color as she glances at the screen and pulls a clipboard from the foot of the bed. She places a hand on my shoulder—probably meaning to relax me—but the heart monitor screams louder.

“Please try to calm down,” she coaxes, pulling away to tuck a stray strand of midnight hair behind her ear.

Maybe if you stopped touching me.

I try to convey this message with my eyes, but she’s already turned away to look closer at the monitor, again placing that lovely, warm hand on my chest.

“That’s so strange,” she murmurs. “All your other vitals look fine.” A piece of raven hair falls over her face, and she swipes it away with a delicate hand. She keeps it there, holding that strand of hair in place and letting me get a good look at her profile.

I was wrong earlier. She’s not pretty; she’s striking. High cheekbones, a button nose arcing perfectly up to her brow, and thick, dark lashes framing a pair of the most dazzling green eyes I’ve ever seen. A deep, mossy emerald, like the hue of magnolia leaves in summertime.

Want. Want, want, want.

The words sound over and over in my head and try as I might, I can’t force them inside their room.

“Your pressure looks good…miraculously.” She whispers the last part under her breath, and I watch her eyes shoot over to where the dead guy used to be. My fingers twitch with the need to reach out and touch her. Feel her.

Want. Want, want, want.

She can’t be real. This must be some kind of fucked-up, morphine-induced hallucination.

I glance down at that hand on my chest, willing it to be of this earth and not some vivid nightmare. A stray thought pierces my mind—that maybe this is hell. The perfect torment and torture. Strapped down just out of reach. Forced to watch. Forced to want. Forced to remain just out of reach, never allowed to touch. Never allowed to taste.

Oblivious to my eyes on her, she continues in her broken voice. “Did you know him?” she asks as she removes her hand, letting the stray lock of hair fall back against her cheek, and motions to the bed behind her. “The man who came in with you?” Her eyes fill with tears once more, mistaking the shock on my face for one of sadness. If her next words are what I think, then… I did it. I really killed him.

She continues, not realizing the comfort she’s given me. “We tried everything we could, but…” She stops, her mouth setting in a bitter line, all signs of tears evaporating. “You know what? That’s a lie. We didn’t do everything—couldn’t—yet no one but me seems to give a damn.” She meets my gaze. “I’m sorry. I'm sorry if you knew him and he was your friend. Because I know no one else in this hospital will give you any sense of human decency. Won’t say they’re sorry they barely tried.”

Sweet, innocent little thing. How did she survive so long in this city? You want to know and play with the little light behind those haunting, beautiful eyes. Would love to wrap your fingers around that throat and squeeze, squeeze, squeeze.

The last thought has me shooting straight up. No. NO.

“Please don’t sit up yet! You’ll hurt yourself!” she urges, placing both hands on my shoulders to press me back down. I look into those deep green pools, focusing on everything but the unhinged thoughts rushing through my mind. They’re fast—nearly too fast to make out—but I know if I let them, they’ll sink their claws in and break open every door in my mind.

Want. Want, want, want.

Slowly, I rest my head back on the stained pillowcase, and her face falls with relief.

“Thank you,” she mutters, straightening and taking her beautiful hands with her. She notices my expression and continues. “For not fighting me.”

A pang rings in my chest, but it has more to do with the look on her face than any pain from the wound. I have a strange urge to reach out and hold her, to ease the frightened look in her eyes.

Need. Need, need, need.

I’m not going to hurt you. I wouldn’t. Not something so beautiful, so precious.

So, so breakable.

I force the door closed on that thought, listening to it pound and scream against its confines. I don’t let it out.

“I’m going to give you a little something to help you relax, then I’ll extubate. How’s that sound?” she asks, grabbing a bottle from one of the anesthetic trays. Her hands shake as she fills a syringe with a milky liquid, and I wonder what caused her swift change in temperament.

I don’t notice when she pushes the liquid into the IV, so when I drift again, alarm bells ring in my mind, sending me into a wild, drug-induced frenzy. My body bucks on the bed, rebelling against being put back to sleep.

“Shhh, it’s okay,” she whispers, placing her tiny hand on top of my shoulder in an attempt to relax me. The sudden touch has the opposite effect, and unlike earlier, I try to rip my arm away from her fingertips. She’s stronger than she looks, though, and in my weakened state, she holds my torso down with ease.

Something deep in my consciousness screams at me, telling me there’s something important I haven’t fully realized. I search her face, and with a jolt, I realize this isn’t the first time I’ve seen this girl.

I don’t know why it took me so long to recognize her. The raven hair, the haunting eyes, the impossible innocence plastered across her face. It’s been years, but I’d recognize her anywhere.

Lillith Harper.

As soon as the epiphany strikes, everything goes dark.

“Bear! He’s waking up!”

“Fucking hell, Axel, I can see that!”

Their voices sound garbled to my ears, but I can still make out the distinct tones of Landon “Axel” and Wes “Bear,” arguing like an old married couple.

“Well, excuse me for trying to be helpful,” Landon whines.

“You know what would help? Shutting the fuck up,” Wes snaps, ever the growling bear. His club nickname has always fit him the best out of all of us, and I never let him forget it. After all, I’m the one who gave it to him.

I find the strength to crack my eye open, but Landon bounds over to my bedside before I say a word. Clearly forgetting I was just fucking shot, he grabs me by the shoulders and gives me a shake.

“Landon…get off,” I growl. His light blue eyes are filled with so much relief, it’s the only thing stopping me from hitting him with what little strength I have left.

“Sorry, Kain,” Landon murmurs, hanging his head as he steps back.

“Jesus. It’s like you kicked a puppy.” Wes nods his chin in my direction. “Glad to see you made it.”

“I’m not,” I grumble, straining against that room in the attic of my mind.

Even death will not show you mercy. No mercy for sinners, for devils, for sick, sick, sickos like you.

I sit up, the pain in my chest intensifying at the same time the room comes into focus. Landon’s and Wes’s giant frames occupy most of the space, and I have to crane my neck to see around them. “Where’s the girl?” I ask, an image of her pretty pink lips flashing in my mind.

“Who?”

“Never mind,” I growl, not having the energy to explain.

They would remember her if they saw her. It would be impossible to forget those eyes. Those haunting, beautiful eyes, the little light begging to be snuffed.

Wes shoots me an alarmed look, like he can read my thoughts and knows something’s not quite right with me.

You’re the one who let me out. Out, out, out.

Landon wiggles his brows, clearly oblivious to the change in Wes’s demeanor and, therefore, mine. Before Wes has the opportunity to question me about it, I change the subject, dutifully ignoring that screaming voice.

“Is that for me?” I ask, eyeing the plastic shopping bag dangling from Wes’s fist.

“Oh yeah.” Wes reaches inside and tosses the thick metal mask onto my chest. “Your backup. God only knows who has the other one now.”

I grimace from the sharp pain as I pick it up, expertly fitting it across the right half of my face. “You do realize I was just shot, right?” I turn to glare at Wes, feeling more like myself now that my face is back. “Wanna take it easy?”

“I’m not going to do shit.” Wes rolls his eyes. “I had to leave my date when word got to the club about what happened to you. She was fucking hot, so excuse me for being a little pissed off.”

I regard his expression carefully, realization hitting me like a semi. “You were worried about me.”

The seven-foot giant glares and crosses his burly arms over his chest. “Of course I was worried! What you did was stupid as fuck.” He pauses, running a scarred hand over his face. “You know they’re going to come after you now, right? You just killed their leader and gave Callum a straight ride to the top, and he won’t stop until you’re dead.”

I shrug. “Let them.” Myers had it coming, and I’m not scared of Callum Beck. I’m not scared of anything except those thoughts, those memories I have to keep locked up.

I try to sit further up in bed, cursing my worthless body the whole way.

“And how are you going to defend yourself when they do? ’Cause it kind of looks like you can’t even stand right now.” Wes grunts, moving over to the bedside to help me. “We found two Serpents outside waiting for the perfect chance to come in here and finish you off. If we hadn’t gotten here when we did, you’d be royally fucked.”

“I’m not dead yet, Bear. Watch how you speak to me,” I murmur, my voice soft and deadly controlled as I spit his nickname. Even in my fragile state, Wes cowers under my gaze.

As he should. You could snap his neck without a thought, could reach out and wrap your hands around—

“How did they find me?” I ask, cutting off the vicious line of thought as I rip out my IV. Whatever they have me on is making the thoughts worse, and I’ll gladly deal with the pain as long as I can have my control back.

“Not sure,” he grunts. “They took off as soon as they caught sight of us. No doubt to run back and tell Callum exactly where you are.”

“The cops?” I ask. If the hospital called them, all three of us are fucked.

Fucked, fucked, fucked.

“Do you think we’d be standing here having this conversation if they were here?” Wes fires back. “That’s why we need to move. Someone’s bound to figure out who you are sooner or later,” Wes mutters, reaching into the bag and pulling out a vial filled with a light purple powder. A spark lights my hollow chest as I palm the gift, twisting the thin plastic tube between my fingertips. I yank the cap off with my teeth and pour out a thin line on the back of my hand before snorting the crystalline powder in one swift breath.

Instantly, a warm buzz flows through my veins, dulling the pain in my chest while clearing my fog in a way only a powerful stimulant like Rebound can. My lungs fill with a deep breath, the pain from the bullet hole receding. But more importantly, a blanket of silence falls over my mind, sealing the locks on all the doors.

“Much better.” I sigh, shaking my arms loosely at my sides.

Wes nods, trying not to look as concerned as he really is. He hates the stuff, but it’s a necessary part of my life. It’s how I’m able to do what I need to, how I’m forced to operate.

“You ready to move?” Wes asks.

I nod, the room coming into hyperfocus as my pupils dilate. Wes motions for Landon to grab the door, and we slowly approach the exit.

While I should be thinking about how I’ll explain this to Onyx, I can’t. Rebound should have helped and ceased every line of thought connected to her. The desire to take her. Have her.

Want. Want, want, want.

Something carnal roars to life in my chest, filling me with an insatiable desire as an image of those mossy emeralds flashes in my mind. Something about their raw innocence haunts me, and the madness curls its slender fingers into every recess of my mind, unlocking doors left and right.

Need. Need, need, need.

And there’s a phrase, too loud and insistent for me to ignore any longer. Too many voices, all screaming and whispering at once… and they all say the same thing.

Take her. Take her. Take her.

CHAPTER THREE

LILLITH

I’m going insane.

At least, that’s the only logical explanation I have after this morning. No matter what I try, I can’t stop thinking about the man covered in scars. That eye. It’s the same shade as the man in my nightmares, but they can’t possibly be the same person, not unless he got some serious anti-aging surgery. Still, I can’t push the image of the cold silver eye from my mind.

“Lillith! Did you check on the man in room 947?” Sandra’s raspy voice startles me out of my thoughts, and I turn to give her a meek smile.

“I just extubated. He seems to be doing a lot better,” I reply, still in shock at how fast the man has recovered. I’ve seen young men broken after a simple fall off the porch, yet he’s awake and alert as can be after a shot to the chest and intensive surgery. “Like, a lot better.”

“Oh good. Keep me posted, okay?” The smile Sandra gives me doesn’t quite reach her eyes, but I don’t spend much time thinking about it. Sandra is one of the most hardworking trauma nurses I know in this hospital, and she must be exhausted from the grueling operation. I’d be a hypocrite to blame her for giving me a fake smile.

She’s a few paces down the hall before I remember a question I have. “Sandra!” I call, running after her. She whirls around, her messy brows pulled together. “What’s wrong, Lillith?”

“I wanted to ask you… What am I supposed to say to the police? You know, when they get here?” I ask, twisting the chain tightly around my thumb. “I’ve never dealt with a… suspect as a patient before.”

Something like irritation flashes in her eyes, but a moment later, it’s gone. I must have imagined it. That, or it had something to do with the light playing off her thick spectacles.

“You didn’t call them, did you?” Her deadly soft tone causes a chill to run down my spine for some reason.

“Uh, no…” I mutter, confused by the question. “Was I supposed to?”

“Oh, dear, no!” Sandra’s demeanor changes so fast I get whiplash. She chuckles loudly and slaps me on the shoulder like we’re best buds again. “There’s a chain of command to these things, you see. I’ll deal with the police. You don’t need to get caught up in that bureaucratic nonsense during your first month of working!” The smile parting her lips pulls strangely at her thin, leathered skin, reminding me of the gargoyles leering from the top of Notre Dame.

“I’ll see you later, Lilly!”

“Yeah… see you later.” My voice tapers off as I watch her disappear around the corner, trying to ignore the strange tugging in my gut. That was… odd, to say the least. I shrug and take off in the opposite direction. I can’t spend all day thinking about Sandra’s strange behavior. I have a hospital full of patients to attend to.

“Lilly!”

I jerk my head in the direction of the deep voice, and my clogs screech against the waxed floors as I stop to wave at Drew. His chocolate eyes shine with a grin that causes his dimples to pop, adding a layer of boyish innocence to his handsome features. A piece of his signature brown mop falls over his forehead as he walks toward me, and he shoves it away with a pink tint to his cheeks.

“Hey, Drew. What’s up?” I ask.

“Just saying hi to my favorite intern.” He nudges me with his elbow, causing that same piece of hair to fall back into his eyes. “What are you up to? You looked deep in thought earlier.”

I shrug, reaching up and twisting the chain around my thumb. “Not much. I'm about to go check on that trauma guy from earlier tonight.” I try to give my friend a smile, but it falls flat.

“The tattooed one?” he asks, his brow raised. “You need some help?”

I sigh, crossing my arms over my chest. Here we go again. Drew is a good friend, but he can be so damn overprotective sometimes. Ever since we met on my first day of trauma rounds, he’s taken up the overbearing older brother role. I appreciate his effort, but I’m a twenty-four-year-old woman and don’t need someone to swoop in and take care of me.

I’ve been doing it fine for eighteen years, and I don’t have any plans to stop.

“He was just shot, Drew. I doubt he has the capacity to harm me. But I appreciate the offer.” I turn to leave, but Drew’s hand on my arm stops me.

“Listen to me… you’ve only been in the ER for a few weeks, so you don’t understand what these guys can be like on the right drug. One time, I treated a guy on X with half his face blown off. Still conscious, still ready to fight. You saw the size of that guy. What would you do if he wanted to hurt you? You’d be completely helpless.”

Yet I wasn’t helpless when I was saving his life.

“I think I’ll be fine. Thanks again, though.” Ripping my arm from his grip, I hasten down the hallway.

As soon as I’m around the corner, I lower my face into my hands. As much as I don’t want to admit it, Drew’s right. Luckily, I haven’t come into contact with any of the people Drew mentioned since I started in the ER, though I’ve heard plenty of stories.

The addiction is so common in Moriton—thanks largely in part to the criminal organizations funneling it onto the streets—that a huge part of my orientation was geared toward learning the warning signs and treatment plans. Not that there’s anything you can do, save for a morphine drip. Once it progresses to what doctors have dubbed the “tin man” stage, it’s already too late for intervention. They showed us videos in orientation, and I have to admit—even with all of the things I’ve witnessed—I still have nightmares about the images. “Tin man” is all too apt a name for what I saw on that screen. Men with muscles turned to steel, eyes locked in agony, yet still begging for their dose of X. Or rather, the deadly concoction of muscle relaxers and Rebound—a powerful stimulant.

It’s the muscle relaxer that gives X its euphoric properties, the thing that makes it so addicting, so deadly. Mixed with Rebound and taken intravenously, it’s said to give you a high like no other drug. Like becoming God is what the firsthand accounts all say. It’s also the only thing that can ease some of the early symptoms before the muscles in your body turn to stone and you become locked in your own miserable hell on earth.

I think back to the size of the scarred man. Even if he wasn’t on anything, if a man that size wanted to do something to me, I’d be powerless to stop him. Just like that night eighteen years ago. Just like when my parents died, and all I could do was stand and watch it happen.

I sigh, a whirlwind of emotions tearing through my mind. There’s no time to feel sorry. I have to get back to work.

I make my way over to the elevator and press the button for the ninth floor. The doors creak shut, and a few moments later, I arrive at my floor. I practically sprint down the hallway to room 947, but when I arrive at the door, I stop short, debating whether to knock.

To hell with it. I shove my hand down hard on the handle and burst into the room. My eyes fall on the empty hospital bed, the stained linens strewn on the floor as if they were torn off in a hurry. My heart falls to my feet as I gaze around the room, searching for any sign of the tattooed man. He can’t have gone far, can he?

After poking my head into the bathroom, I sprint back out of the room and tear down the hallway toward the fire escape. My movements are frenzied, and before I know it, the tip of my clog catches on the floor and sends me flying forward through the air. I hit the floor with a sharp smack, my chin coming within millimeters of the vinyl before I have time to stop my momentum with my hands.

As fast as I can, I push to my feet and sprint down the stairs to the front lobby, seconds from bursting into tears. How the fuck am I going to explain this? Oh God, will they fire me? Can they do that?

Visibly red and out of breath, I crash into the edge of the front desk. The poor woman manning it jumps from her seat, a weathered hand clutching her chest as she takes me in.

“Have you… have you seen any patients down here?” I breathe out, my question barely comprehensible. Her eyes widen like I just grew a third boob.

“Uh, no. Why, what’s up?”

“My patient has disappeared,” I whisper, glancing nervously around us. “The one who… you know… shot someone.”

The blood drains from her face. “Room 947, right?”

Oh God, this can’t be good.

“We found one of his belongings in the ambulance…” She reaches under the desk in a kind of trance. From one of the cubbies, she pulls a black leather jacket. It’s folded and wrapped in a plastic baggie, but I can still make out the thick red flames licking up the side of the sleeves. She pushes it across the counter, and I pick it up with shaking fingers.

“I was going to give it to the authorities…” she says barely above a whisper.

I take it out of the bag and lay it out flat, subconsciously tracing my finger along the intricate flames licking up the back and shoulders. There’s a name—Kain—stitched on the front, along with a phrase I don’t recognize apart from it being of Latin descent. Memento mori. Curiously, I turn it around and notice a skull at the back of the flames with a name sewn across in thick black cursive.

Hellfyre Motorcycle Club.

CHAPTER FOUR

KAIN

“What the FUCK were you thinking?” John roars, his face purpling from his sheer pent-up rage. “How dare you go off on your own without consulting me? Do you know what you’ve done? To me? To this club?”

I lean back in the red leather armchair and give John an icy glare of my own, refusing to answer his insipid outburst. John’s office is nice, if a bit gaudy for my taste, but I’m glad we’re having the conversation here so the gossips outside won’t be able to eavesdrop.

“You killed the head of the Serpents!” John bellows, the veins in his neck threatening to burst. “Not just that! Bear told me they took you to the hospital! Do you even realize how stupid that was?”

It was kind of hard for me to resist while my lungs were filling with blood, but there’s no point in explaining it to him.

Instead, I roll my eye. John “Onyx” Wallace is all bark, no bite, despite what the rest of the club is made to believe. He’s been our leader ever since my father was exiled and joined—and led, until today—our rival club, the Serpents. Under John’s rule, we’ve been able to keep war from breaking out between the clubs, and most of the members of the Hellfyre Club think that’s a good thing.

I happen to disagree.

My eyes shoot fire at the so-called unbendable man. He pounds his fist on the oak desk in front of him, meaning to intimidate me into speaking.

“Why is it so fucking hard to get through that thick skull of yours?” He shakes his head sadly, stepping back from the desk when he realizes his usual tactics won’t work on me. “I try not to get involved in your business, Kain. What you do is vital for this organization. As my second-in-command, I know it more than anyone. But now you’ve murdered the head of the Serpents, and I have to step in. You do realize that, right?”

I crack my knuckles and stare him down across the desk, my fingers itching with the need to wrap around his thick neck. When he realizes I’m not going to respond, he lets out a heavy sigh.

“Why did you have to do it, Kain? Just tell me that, and I’ll drop it. I just need to know why.”

I shrug, my face going slack. He might have forgotten, might have even forgiven my father’s sins, but I never will.

“To send a message,” I say.

“To hell with your message!” John bellows. “We’re trying to make peace, not start a goddamn war! And that’s exactly what’s going to happen now that you’ve killed their leader!”

I sigh, bringing a hand up to pinch the bridge of my nose. This is the problem with John. He has no stomach for the things that need to happen to men who cross the line. My father was one of those men, and he had to be dealt with accordingly.

If he can sleep at night knowing they’re out there doing fucked-up shit under our noses, then he can be my guest. But I can’t, and I won’t.

“What do you really want to say to me, John?” He flinches at his birth name, and something akin to joy sparks in my chest. If any of the other members dared to utter it, he would have taken their heads. But not me. Never me.

“First off, I’d like a little respect,” he growls, his voice low and murderous despite the nervous shift in his eyes. “And second… you’re not allowed to do a damn thing without consulting me from now on.”

I tip my chin. “Really?” This is actually kind of comical.

“Yes, really!” he roars, his neck purpling. “And if you refuse to listen, then you will be the one solely responsible for the downfall of this club.” He sighs, shoving a rugged hand through his salt-and-pepper hair. “You and I both know I can’t make you do anything, Kain. But I’m asking you—for the sake of this club, for the sake of me—please, just lay low for a while.”

I take in his expression carefully, contemplating what to say to appease him. John may be a bit of a pussy, but he can sniff out bullshit better than anyone I know. Unless I want him to have me tailed, I’ll need to be convincing.

The last thing I need is someone getting in the way of my new plans. My plans for her.

Letting out a deep sigh, I run my hand over my face and feign a tortured expression. “Fine. I’ll lay low. For the club.”

Thankfully, that’s all it takes for him to believe me.

“Okay, then,” John grumbles, letting out a breath. “You’re going to give me a stroke one of these days, you know that?” he groans, slumping down into his armchair.

“Too bad you need me,” I say, giving him a careless shrug for good measure.

“Is that what you think?” John’s light blue eyes light with irritation as he presses his fingertips together in a triangle. “Looks like someone’s got a bigger head than before. I didn’t really think that was possible.”

I shoot a glare that has him cowering as I slowly stand from my chair. “Humor really isn’t your forte, John.”

“I have a roomful of guys out there who would love to disagree with you,” he huffs, attempting to retain some sense of authority even though his voice quakes.

“You keep the company of ass-lickers, John. It’s to be expected.” I tip my chin and storm out of the office, slamming the door behind me.

I take exactly two steps and come face-to-face with Wes’s scowl.

“What did he say?” Wes demands, crossing a pair of bulky arms over his abdomen.

I shrug. “To lay low. No big deal.”

“No big deal?” he grumbles, turning away from me to stomp over toward the bar. “Do you want a drink? I need a fucking drink.”

I follow close, stopping in front of the large bar spread across the back wall of the club.

“You worry too much, Wes,” I say, rolling my eye as he glares across the bar.

“Oh really? You’re really going to stand there and feed me that bullshit?” Wes palms a bottle of Jack and fills two glasses to the brim before sliding one toward me. “I know that look in your eye, Kain. You’re fucking up to something.” Wes takes a large gulp of his beverage before slamming the glass back onto the bar top.

“It’s nothing you need to worry about,” I murmur, swirling the amber liquid in my glass. He brings his chocolate eyes up to meet mine, and I almost feel bad at the hurt swimming in them.

Almost.

“You’re becoming less like yourself by the day. Sometimes I’m not sure if I’m talking to Kain or my best friend.”

I roll my eye and down the entire contents of my glass. Slamming it down similarly to Wes, I slide it over for him for a refill while shooting him a warning glare.

“I’m still your superior, and you’d be wise to remember that.”

Wes gives me a blank stare as he pours another cup of whiskey. “You realize that shit is exactly what I’m talking about, right? Since when do you feel the need to give me the same act as everyone else?” He slides the glass over to me with a tad more force than the last time.

“It’s not an act, Bear,” I growl, my light eye shooting fire at him as I toss the second glass back. He shoots me a glare I know is due to my use of his club nickname. Wes hates when I use it even more than John hates my use of his birth name, but I’ve never understood why. It’s never stopped me from using it to bother him when he gets like this, though.

“Right.” He sighs, rubbing a massive palm roughly across his face. “Forget I said anything.” Wes stalks off with a huff and a sidelong glance, leaving me to stew over my empty glass. The fucker knows me too well. I am planning something, but he must never find out about it. Knowing Wes, he’ll try to talk some sense into me and make me see reason.

Little does he know that reason ceases to exist when I’m in her orbit.

The raven-haired beauty flashes in my mind, and my grip tightens around the tumbler. I need someplace I can spy on my new toy, somewhere far away from the prying eyes of my boss. And as risky as it is to involve someone outside of the club, I don’t have much choice.

I need Ghost.

Letting out a deep sigh, I look behind me to make sure I’m alone and pull my phone from my pocket, typing in the number I know by heart. It rings exactly once before the line clicks through, and I’m met with deafening silence. My jaw tightens as I squeeze the phone in my palm, knowing this is a mistake.

“It’s Kain. I need a favor,” I grit out, sure the device will snap in my grip the longer the silence draws out. Just when I’m about to hang up, a distorted laugh crackles through the speaker.

“Kain? I don’t think I know a Kain.”

My fist tightens. “Yes. You do.”

The line goes silent, and for a rage-inducing moment, I think he’s hung up. “It’s going to cost you.”

I sigh, drumming my fingers against the bar top. “How much?”

“A lot.” A distorted cackle ensues. “Everything comes at a price, my old friend.”

“We are not friends,” I snarl.

“So you’ve always said.” A pause. “Get me my money, and the favor is yours.” The line goes dead.

I’m about to crush the phone in my palm when a text comes through. A very large number is attached, along with the words: get me my money, and I’ll find what you need.

I roll my eye. Rotten fucking bastard.

Light filters through the window on the second floor of the apartment building, bright as a lighthouse beacon compared to the darkened slums around me. The building’s bleak stone facade has cracks along the main structural points and is falling off in chunks, and I swear I can hear it creaking in the stillness of the night. My fist clenches at my side as I peer into her window, the curtains spread wide for any random creep strolling by.

I can’t believe she lives here.

My lip curls as her little ass swirls into view. Most people are snug in bed at this hour of the morning, but she's just got home from work by the looks of her sunken eyes and sluggish movements.

She stops at the foot of the bed and removes the golden locket from her neck. She runs her thumb over the tarnished brass as a tear slips from the corner of her eye, twisting her lovely face with sorrow.

Sorrow. Such sorrow. You’d love to reach out, to hold it in your palms. To crush it, to squeeze the life from it.

I shake my head angrily, pulling the vial of Rebound from my jacket pocket and tapping a thin line on the back of my hand. It’s the only thing that stops the voice anymore, the only way I can quiet it when she’s in my vicinity.

Lillith’s silky hair shifts as she places the locket onto the mattress. She does it with such care that you would think the thing was made of Venetian glass rather than cheap, tarnished brass. Knowing what I do, I can only assume it’s a gift from her parents.

Just then, a pigeon lands on her windowsill. Its claws clench the cracked stone as it peers from side to side, looking for threats. Then it taps its beak against her window.

I shake my head. Persistent little thing. Too bad it won’t work.

I nearly fall over when Lillith opens her window for it. Not only that, she reaches out and pets the fucking thing. I don’t know shit about birds, but it seems like this one likes it.

I blink hard, wondering if I took too much Rebound.

Her lips move—as if she’s talking to it—and she reaches her other hand out and places a slice of bread onto the sill.

Okay, I definitely took too much fucking Rebound.

I reach into my jacket pocket and pull out one of the slim paper cones. A silver Zippo follows, and for a moment, I dare to let the tiny orange flame illuminate my features. I stand there for what feels like an eternity, puffing on my joint and trying to make sense of the situation.

Her face has an expression I haven’t seen before. She looks… alive.

I cock my head, watching the beautiful, strange girl and her bird. Something stirs in my chest, a prickle of an emotion I don’t know what to make of.

For the first time in my life, I have an urge to feed the pigeons in the park.

I stand frozen until a flutter of wings breaks me from my trance. The pigeon takes to the purple skies, but my gaze is locked on the beautiful girl in the window. My chest squeezes at the pain in her eyes as she watches the little animal disappear over the horizon, and it hits me.

She loves the little bird.

As Lillith shuts her window, I’m struck with the desire to do something for her. Something to bring back the light in her eyes. I rack my brain, thinking back to how her lips lifted in the smallest of smiles when the bird started pecking at her breadcrumb offering.

As much as she loves the animal, she also loves being able to take care of something. If I bring her a present for her pet, maybe I’ll see that smile again.

The only problem? I don’t know shit about birds.

I run a hand through my hair as Lillith steps into the bathroom, leaving the door wide open. She strips away her tank top, baring her perky breasts to the mirror as her lips move to the song she’s singing. My cock throbs as she lowers her lace panties down her thighs, her hips swaying seductively in tune with the silent rhythm. God, she makes me fucking salivate.

Her toned legs flex as she steps into the tub basin, holding the dark blue shower curtain for balance as she steps under the stream of the showerhead. I want to reach out, to feel her and make sure she’s real.

But I have to be patient.

A low growl tumbles from my lips as I watch her, wishing I could be the water pouring over her skin. I want to taste her, fill her, but more than anything, I want to corrupt her.

She wastes no time hopping into bed as soon as her shower’s over. Hooking her locket around her neck, she snuggles her naked body under her comforter, then flips the light next to her bed, cloaking her room in darkness. Fuck me. I’ll need Ghost to install cameras when she’s at work tomorrow.

Putting my joint out against the stone wall, I slip the roach into my pocket and stalk down the sidewalk. The chill night air bites my skin despite the thick hoodie, and I shove my hands in my pockets as I hasten in the general direction of the market.

It’s well past three in the morning, so no pet stores will be open to get what I need. Luckily, Larry’z Lizardz isn’t just a pet store. You can’t tell from its looks, but they’ve been a front for the club for years now.

I just have to hope someone there knows a good present for a bird.

CHAPTER FIVE

LILLITH

“No!” Mommy wails, her face twisted in agony as she falls to her knees. She reaches out with fumbling hands, taking my daddy’s lifeless face in her hands.

I twirl the flower between my fingers, watching as the blood drip, drip, drips from the petals onto the pavement.

Bang! Bang!

Mommy’s body slumps over Daddy, two bright red spots blossoming from her shoulder and chest. I stand frozen in place, watching her crisp white blouse soak up the crimson like a sponge.

“Mommy!” I scream, dropping the flower as I stumble over my light-up sneakers trying to get to her.

“Lillith… “ she moans, reaching out to my face with the last of her strength. “My beautiful flower.” Her thumb brushes my cheek, leaving a streak of something warm and sticky. Then her hand falls to the pavement, her bright blue eyes wide and lifeless.

“Mommy, wake up!” I cry, brushing clumps of matted hair away from her pretty face. A trickle of blood falls from the side and onto the pavement. I watch it drip, deaf to the sound of a gun cocking above my head.

“Don’t worry, sweetie. You’ll be with your parents real soon.”

I can’t move, can’t take my eyes off the slow drip… drip… drip…

“NO!” I gasp, sitting straight up with a jolt. I clutch my necklace in my palm, the contents of my bedroom coming into focus as my pupils adjust to the morning light.

I fucking hate that nightmare.

Groaning, I swing my legs over the bed and begin my usual trudge to the bathroom. A furious tapping sounds on my window, and I nearly piss myself.

“Damn, someone’s hungry this morning,” I grumble, rubbing my sleep-crusted eyes as I step over to the window. I’m about to open it when I notice a large plastic bag on the sill. I can’t make out what’s inside, so I crouch down, putting my nose within inches of it. And that’s when I notice it.

The bag is wriggling.

With an ear-piercing screech, I stumble backward, my heart trying to beat its way out of my rib cage.

Taptaptap! Taptaptap!

Herb pecks the window like a madman, trying with all his might to get to the sack of slimy, wriggling earthworms. I think I’m going to be sick.

I race to the bathroom, barely having enough time to curl around the toilet before my stomach empties into the bowl. Every time I close my eyes, I see the bag of worms, and another dry heave wracks my body.

Taptaptap! Taptaptap!

“Stop it, Herb!” I howl, slamming my palm on the tile. “Please, stop it!”

He does for a moment, and then I hear it again. That relentless, gut-churning tapping. I pull my body from the floor and stumble back into the bedroom, opting to leave the lights off.

Taptaptap! Taptaptap!

With a sigh, I step over to the window again. Now that I’m past the initial shock of finding a bag of worms in my room, the sight is much less terrifying. After all, it’s not like they can escape the bag.

“Sorry, Herb,” I mutter, pinching the top of the bag between my thumb and forefinger. “No worms for you.”

As soon as I lift the bag, I notice a small note underneath. I pick it up with trembling fingers, and my heart lodges in my throat.

I run my thumb over the note, over the letter scrawled at the bottom. K. The first letter of that name on the motorcycle jacket I saw at the hospital.

Whether it’s from lack of sleep or shock, it hadn’t been clear to me until now. Someone was here. Someone came into my house while I slept. And not just anyone—the one-eyed man who escaped the hospital. It has to be him. Anything else is too coincidental. The thought fills my veins with horror and something even more insidious. Excitement.

Something deeply dark and disturbing stirs in my chest as I think back to how he looked spread on the hospital bed. He was weak then but still held more physical prowess than any other man I’ve encountered. It makes me wonder what I’d have done if I woke up and saw him at the foot of my bed. Watching me.

With shuddering knees, I step over to the kitchen and place the bag of worms in the trash. I watch the bag squirm for a few minutes, trying to make sense of the gesture. It could be construed as ominous, but the note said it was for my pet. My closest “pet” is Herb, and if somehow he saw me feeding him, then…

I snatch the bag from the trash and step over to the window. Forcing it open, I rip a beak-sized hole in the top of the bag and place it on the sill. Immediately, Herb stuffs his beak in and pulls out three pink worms. He fluffs himself, his beady eyes shining as if proud of his catch.

“I guess you do like them…” I watch, mesmerized, as he gobbles down two more. I guess the present really wasn’t an ominous warning. Sure, it’s fucked up in all the wrong ways, but to someone deeply psychologically disturbed, I guess this could be seen as a… sweet gesture? I don’t have the strength to unpack it now, that’s for damn sure.

Leaving Herb to his bag of worms, I walk into the bathroom, my mind a whirlwind of emotions. Turning the shower as hot as it will go, I step into the tub, barely registering the singe as the water rains down on my skin. The stream thunders against my shoulders, washing away some of my anxiety and leaving me pruned and numb.

I should be calling the cops right now instead of enjoying my shower, but something stops me. Some part of me—that twisted, fucked-up part of my soul—is dying to see what happens if I let this situation play out.

God, what is wrong with me?

Pressing my forehead against the steering wheel of my Honda, I let out a loud sigh and close my eyes tight against the morning sun. After the shitstorm this morning, I’m in no mood for my twelve-hour shift.

A light tapping sound draws my attention to the window, and I come face-to-face with Drew’s golden gaze. His dark brown hair sways as he motions for me to roll the window down, and I oblige, fixing my face into a less devastating expression.

“Lilly! Are you okay?”

“Hey, Drew. What’s up?” I ask, hoping he doesn’t notice the slight quiver in my voice.

He always manages to pop up at the most inconvenient moments. And just what the hell is he doing in the parking lot at this time, anyway? Due to seniority, Drew always takes the first shift, so why isn’t he inside right now? I glance around the parking lot but don’t see his car anywhere in the back lot. Huh, weird.

“I was just heading inside and noticed you sitting in your car all bent over…you doing okay?” he questions.

“Just peachy.” I turn off the engine and ignore that warning twinge in my gut. “Just didn’t get much sleep last night. I probably look like hell.”

“Hey! Don’t say that! You’re one of the most beautiful women I know. I happen to find your bags endearing.” He shoots me a wink.

I cock my brow. “You know, you don’t have to try to make me feel better, Drew.”

His face falls slightly, and I almost feel bad. Maybe he was just trying to give me a friendly compliment.

“Sorry,” I murmur, stepping out onto the concrete next to him. He towers over me, and I have to jut my chin up to the sky to see into his golden eyes. “Guess I’m just not used to compliments.”

“Well, there’s way more where it came from.” The glare from his bright white veneers nearly blinds me as he smiles down at me.

I cringe internally. I like Drew a lot, but only as a friend. In my gut, I know he’s wanted more from me for a while, but I’m no closer to giving it to him than the first day we met. I’m just not interested in taking things further than friendship with him or any other man.

Growing up, when all my friends experimented with their sexuality, all I cared about was getting through my ancient Gray’s Anatomy text so I could increase my chances of getting into medical school. The thought of dating and small talk makes me nauseous, so the effort and time it would take to lose my virginity has never been worth it to me. Maybe I’ll worry about it when I’m done with my intern year, but until then, I don’t have time to entertain anything other than friendship.

“I was thinking we could hang out this weekend? You know, outside the hospital…”

Before I have time to shoot him down, a small white pigeon lands on top of my car, drawing my attention away from Drew. It lets out a little coo and pecks at the rubber lining of the door, probably searching for food.

And this is why I say pigeons rely on us.

I’m about to remark how adorably dumb they are when Drew swings his fist at the little bird. “Get out of here! Fucking rat with wings,” he snarls, attempting to hit it out of the sky as it takes flight.

“What are you doing?” I cry, grabbing his arm and hauling it back down to his side. “He wasn’t hurting anyone.”

"They're disgusting, pea-brained vermin." Drew scoffs, his brow raised in surprise. "You should be thanking me. It could have shit on your car."

I blink, trying to understand where all this anger came from. It was just a bird.

"He wasn't bothering anyone," I say slowly. "And they're actually quite sweet animals if you're kind to them—"

“Why the hell do you care so much?” Drew’s chest shakes with a chuckle, though I can’t help but think there’s an undercurrent of malice in it. “It’s just a stupid pigeon. A million of them are shitting all over this city. Now, about this weekend…”

Just then, another car pulls into the lot. Drew’s gaze darkens as he watches the bright red Honda park a few spaces from my car, and he abandons whatever he is going to say.

“Come on, let’s get inside,” he says, taking off toward the front doors. I stare at his receding frame, unable to wrap my mind around his actions.

Maybe his mood turned because he realized I wasn’t going to respond to his advances? It’s the only thing that makes any sense. I’ve only ever known Drew as a kind, selfless person. The kind who helps old women with their groceries and goes above and beyond for what most nurses are willing to do for their patients. Drew is warm. Drew is safe.

Drew tried to kill a pigeon.

I shake the thought from my mind. He wasn’t trying to kill it, was he? Scare it, sure. But he would never intentionally hurt something.

“Lilly! You coming, or what?”

“Coming!” I call, jogging to catch up with him. He gives me one of his dazzling smiles as I huff to his side, but the churning in my gut doesn’t stop.

Just as we’re about to pass the threshold, the tip of my clog catches on something, and I fly forward. My palms hit the tile with an embarrassing smack, and pain radiates up my forearms.

Drew’s cackle sends heat crawling up the back of my neck. “You gotta be more careful, Lilly. Here.” He holds a hand out to me, and I gladly take it. The force of the gesture knocks me off balance, and I stumble into Drew’s chest, the side of my cheek thumping hard against his broad pec muscle.

“Sorry, Drew. That was pretty embarrassing,” I say, letting out an awkward chuckle as I place my palms against his chest in an effort to push away. I barely get two inches between us before his arms snake around my back, pulling me flush against his chest.

“Drew…what are you doing?” I whisper, trying to wriggle out of his viselike grip.

“Shhhh,” he murmurs, sliding his hand up my back. Two of his fingers reach around the side of my neck and press into the space just below my jaw. “I’m just feeling your pulse.”

“My…pulse?”

“Mm-hmm,” he breathes, digging his fingertips deeper into my flesh. “Your heart is beating pretty fast.”

An awkward, high-pitched laugh tears from my throat as I try again to push away from him. “Listen, this has been really fun, but…”

Drew ignores me, dropping his fingers from my neck and weaving them into the hair at the base of my scalp. “Are you sure you didn’t hit your head? You went down pretty hard.”

“I’m positive,” I snip, wriggling against him in a more desperate attempt. “Drew, I’m fine. You can let go now.” Thankfully, he listens this time. Dropping his arms from my body, he takes a step back with a boyish grin that doesn’t quite reach his eyes.

“Sorry about that. It’s the technician in me. Always gotta check the vitals.” He chuckles easily, brushing his messy brown hair back from his face. “I’ll see you later, yeah?”

“Yeah…” I murmur, watching as he turns on his heel and heads inside the lobby. Okay, that was fucking odd.

The scent of antiseptic and death knocks me in the face as I step into the air-conditioned lobby, and I turn to give the receptionist a thin-lipped smile.

“Hey, Becca. Any news on the…” My voice dies in my throat at the thought of the scarred man, and she gives me a sympathetic smile.

“I’m sorry, sweetie, but no. You know how they are.” She waves a hand with a roll of her eyes. “I swear, the only thing the police are good for in this city is handing out parking tickets.”

I give her a smile, not having the energy to laugh at her attempt to lighten the mood. “Thanks, Becca. You’ll let me know if they find anything?”

“Of course. But don’t hold your breath.” She pulls out a nail file from one of the drawers and begins shaping the nail on her index finger. Okay, I guess that’s the end of that.

I give my head a little shake and trudge in the direction of the women’s lockers. It’s so strange how unconcerned everyone seems about the whole situation. First, Drew when the scarred man was admitted, Sandra when it came to calling the police, and now Becca.

Maybe she’s right. Maybe the police really can’t be bothered to look into his disappearance. Or perhaps… perhaps they just don’t want to. A shiver runs the length of my spine as my hand wraps around the handle of the door to the locker rooms, and I have the inexplicable sensation of being watched.

I never called the police when I found that note, and now I’m wondering if my reasons were the same as everyone else’s. It’s not that I couldn’t or that it would be futile…

I just didn’t want to.

Even now, even when I’m positive his eye is the one I sense on the back of my head, I know I won’t tell anyone. More importantly, I know I won’t do anything to stop it.

It’s the worst realization I’ve had all week.

CHAPTER SIX

KAIN

Restlessly, I move the binoculars from room to room until I find the person I’m looking for. My lip curls as she comes into my line of sight, and I dart my tongue out to wet my lips as I take in her tight little body. I have so many plans for Lillith, things she can’t dream up in her worst nightmares.

I just have to be patient.

My cock twitches in my jeans as Lillith swirls out of the women’s locker rooms, tightening the waistband around her baggy scrub pants. The circles under her light green eyes are even more intense than usual, and I can’t help but think it has something to do with the havoc I’ve wreaked in her life.

I reach down to adjust myself, but the friction from my hand only worsens the situation. Fully erect now, I cringe as the base of my cock rubs against my zipper. I have no choice but to free it. I hold my cock in my right hand and stroke the length slowly, never taking my eye off the black-haired beauty across the street.

The more you watch people, the more you realize how horrible humanity really is. Not Lillith Harper, though. No matter how long I observe her, that strange little innocence she carries herself with never wavers.

I hiss through my teeth as my cock throbs with the promise of release. Forcing my hand to release its grip, I zip my cock back into the confines of my pants, hoping the sharp pain will clear some of the screaming in my mind.

When that’s not enough, I tap out a thin line of Rebound onto the back of my hand, letting the stimulant do what I cannot. Once my mind quiets, I drag the binoculars back up and continue my watch.

The building opposite the hospital really is the perfect spot to spy on my new toy. The apartment I’ve set up shop in is vacant, seeing as my great-aunt Gladis is currently on a business trip in Europe. Ghost tells me she’ll be gone for the rest of the week, giving me plenty of time to finish my business.

I hadn’t seen or spoken to the rest of the Hellfyre clan since before I could walk, and I doubt we’ll be having any family get-togethers anytime soon. My father saw to that when he disgraced the family name and got us cut off from the wealthy moguls.

My lip curls in disgust as I take in the gaudy, cat-themed furnishings. Why someone would willingly purchase the items is beyond me, but I guess money makes people do some crazy fucking things. I turn my gaze away from a particularly disturbing painting of a tomcat in a raincoat and bring the pair of black binoculars up to my eyes.

Lillith looks around nervously before reaching into the plastic tub of lollipops on the nurse’s desk. After digging around for a few moments, her fingers curl around one of the last cherry red pops in the bin. She inspects her prize for a moment, a smile tugging prettily on her full pink lips. Glancing over her shoulder, she shoves it into her coat pocket, acting like nothing happened. She’s so sweet. So sure no one is watching her.

But I am, little flower. The devil is always watching.

I lose sight of her for a few minutes as she gets into the elevator but find her almost immediately when she steps out onto the surgical floor, her lips set in a morbid line. I think back to the way she smiled at that man earlier in the parking lot, and my blood boils with rage as intense as the moment I first laid eyes on the scene.

No one else is allowed to make my toy feel like that. Not anymore.

Keeping my eyes on the room, I reach into my pocket and pull my phone up to my ear. The line clicks, but the only thing that greets me is static.

“Ghost,” I greet, my fist tightening as a disembodied chuckle rings through the speakers. Everything’s a fucking joke to him. “Did you do it?”

“So impatient.” I clench my jaw at the amusement in his tone. “What do you think?” he asks.

“I think for all that money, it better be,” I growl, blinking away the image of her pretty white smile. “So is it? Or isn’t it?”

“Check your phone,” he deadpans, then ends the call.

Angrily, I thumb over to my messages and find that Ghost sent me a link during our call. I click it, and Lillith’s empty apartment comes into view. I touch the arrows on the side of the screen to flip through each of the different camera angles Ghost installed throughout her home, a satisfied hum growing in my chest.

After shoving my phone away, I reach up and peel away the thick black mask encasing the right side of my face. I let it slip from my fingertips, its soft thud barely audible over the loud pop of my jaw as I force the heel of my hand to the side. A searing pain builds behind my eyes, and I’m suddenly aware of the weight of the thick silver revolver strapped to my hip.

It would be so easy. So easy to put that barrel to the side of my temple. So easy to pull the trigger. To slip. To fall. Down. Down, down, down the rabbit hole.

My skin itching, I fish around in my jacket pocket, curling my fingertips around the small glass vial that lives there. Pinning the cork between my teeth, I pull the bottle open and tap out another purple line of its powdery contents onto the back of my hand. Dark spots line my vision as the ache crests, and I quickly inhale the crystalline substance.

The stimulant courses through my veins, and I breathe a sigh of relief as the pain dulls. Slowly, my surroundings come back into focus, and I’ve never been so happy to see a cat in my life.

After shoving the vial back into my pocket, I look at Lillith through the binoculars one last time, then turn from the window. I can’t stop thinking about her expression when she was holding the lollipop earlier. I want so badly to be the reason she looks like that, and I think I have the perfect solution now.

The lock to Lillith’s apartment springs open, and I nearly tear the handle clean off as I force the door open. The rusty screws creak tiredly as I release my grip, and I frown at the way it wobbles loosely against the wood now. Fuck. She’s gonna notice that.

Shrugging, I step into the kitchen and place the massive tub onto the counter. Pulling the note from my pocket, I place it on the lid, making sure it’s perfectly centered before stepping back to admire my newest present.

Perfect. Much better than worms.

With a satisfied sigh, I go to leave the apartment, but something stops me just as I pass the door. I’ve never been in Lillith’s apartment without her here, without the fear she’ll wake and catch me watching her from the foot of her bed.

I’ve certainly never had the chance to go through her belongings. The compulsion is too strong to fight, and in a moment, I’m stepping past the threshold of her closet. I palm the silky fabrics and pause, savoring the way her floral perfume fills my senses. Like sweet magnolias in springtime. Visions of pure white blooms flood my mind as I close my eyes, leaning my head back and breathing in the nostalgia it brings. I used to wait months for the trees to bloom when I was little. I’d stare out the little triangle window in my father’s attic for hours, willing the brilliant petals to unfold before my eyes.

A swell of rage builds in my veins as I think back to how my father mowed down the row of trees for kindling during that one exceptionally cold winter. My hands weren’t large enough to wrap around his useless neck back then. Otherwise, I would have killed him much sooner than I actually did. The anger from that memory brings me crashing back to reality, and I tear a black crop top from its hanger with so much force it rips in two.

“Fuck,” I sigh, letting it slip from my fingers as I rifle through the rest of her wardrobe.

The small nightstand to the left of her bed holds her underwear, and I paw through the collection, shoving a few silky ones into my pocket. She may not know it yet, but she has a wild side to her. She just never had someone worthy of unlocking it.

I stalk over to the bathroom and pull open the door to her medicine cabinet, taking in the various potions and products she has stowed away. Now I know why she has to live in such a shithole—she spends all her fucking money on skincare and body wash.

I roll my eye as I close the mirror and reach down to the drawers, pulling them open with enough force to send their contents flying across the room. I groan, picking them off the floor and shoveling them haphazardly back into the drawer. With a sigh, I slam it closed and leave the small space, pulling up the tracking app on my phone as I stomp toward the exit. Lillith will be home soon, and I need to make sure I’m not here when she is.

I frown down at the screen, watching the tiny red blip move down the street away from the apartment building. That’s fucking odd. Lillith never goes anywhere after work. Something must have happened.

After slamming the door closed behind me, I rush down the steps and over to the alleyway where my bike is stashed. Throwing my leg over the side, I rev the engine and speed in the same direction as that red marker.

There’s only one way to find out what she’s up to.

CHAPTER SEVEN

LILLITH

I speed down the two-lane road with tears threatening to burst from my eyes. I should be heading home to get some sleep before my next shift, but for some reason, I turned the wheel in the opposite direction of my apartment when I left work.

My last case of the day sent me reeling, and for the first time, it wasn’t because something bad happened. My heart clenches as I think back to the little blond girl who came in with her parents. Compared to the usual drug addicts and trauma victims I tend to, the girl was the picture of health, minus a slight cough that hadn’t gone away for a few days.

The way her parents doted over her, held her close, and wiped her little tearstained cheeks… broke something in me. I couldn’t even force myself to be happy when all the tests showed it was just a cold. I was just… empty.

I drive for several minutes, so lost in my thoughts that I almost miss my turn. A pair of wrought-iron gates tower ominously at the entrance to Moriton Cemetery, and a shudder runs down my spine as I look through the mist shrouding the stone markers, expecting a pair of glowing eyes to be peering back through the dusk. Cemeteries are creepy enough in the daytime. Lord only knows what possessed me to visit my parents' gravesite at midnight.

Sighing, I park in the grass and hop out of the car, forcing my feet down the cobblestone walkway. Kicking off my clogs, I veer off the pathway to the left, feeling the satisfying crunch of dying grass between my toes as I make my way through the rows of cracked and weathered slabs. I stop in front of the patch of freshly planted white lilies, their vibrancy barely visible in the shadows.

“Hey, Mom. Hey, Dad.” I smile sadly, reaching forward to run my fingertips over the names etched in the stone. “It’s been a while. I’m sorry about that.” One of the flowers crunches under my toe, and I reel back with a grimace.

“Sorry,” I mumble. I crouch down to the crushed plant, taking its delicate petals between my fingers and plucking it from the stem on impulse.

“What the hell is wrong with me?” I whisper, fisting the broken flower and squeezing it in my palm until it’s practically unrecognizable. “I’m worried something is wrong with me, and I don’t have anyone to talk to about it,” I whisper, the tears falling freely from my eyes as I look back up toward my parents’ headstones. “Why aren’t you here? Why does life have to be this way?”

I sob into my hands as all of the emotion I’ve been suppressing this week starts to spill down my cheeks. All the confusion, all the anxiety from the past couple of days is suddenly too much to bear, and I wish someone was here to hold me. To stop me from falling apart.

Wiping the back of my hand over my eyes, I straighten up, blinking away the last of the tears as I berate myself for thinking such things. I don’t need anyone to take care of me. I’ve been doing it since I was sixteen, and a damn good job at it. How many other twenty-four-year-olds can say they’re interning at one of the best teaching hospitals in the country? None that I know of, and I got here all by my-damn-self. I should be proud. I should feel good.

Instead, I feel empty. Worthless.

“I’m so lonely,” I whisper, another wave of emotion taking all the air out of my lungs. “So fucking lonely.”

I never should have left my grandma’s cabin in Bumfuck, Georgia. I should have stayed there and rotted like everyone wanted me to. At least then, I’d have something other than a pigeon to talk to. Another silent sob wracks my body, and I curl my arms over my stomach.

A twig breaks somewhere off in the distance, snapping me clean out of my personal pity-fest. My eyes dart around wildly in the darkness, desperately searching for the cause of the noise. It was probably just a raccoon, right? I’ve seen them around here sometimes, creeping between the headstones like little furry bandits.

The hair on my neck rises with an inexplicable sensation of being watched, and I shoot my arm up, clutching onto my locket as I whip my head from side to side. I didn’t see any other cars when I pulled up, so unless someone waits in the shadows to axe-murder me, I must be going insane.

A nervous chuckle tumbles from my lips as the silence becomes stifling, and before I know what I’m doing, I leap to my feet and tear back in the direction of my car. Snatching up my discarded clogs, I sprint down the walkway, barely registering the pain as shards of gravel pierce my bare soles. No matter how many times I check over my shoulder, I can’t see anyone, and I’m left with nothing to explain the strange sensation that overcame me.

Shaking my head, I yank open my car door and bolt the doors as soon as my ass hits the seat. I don’t know what caused it, but I’m sure as hell not going to stick around here any longer tonight. Speeding off in the direction of my apartment, I shoot a nervous glance at the iron gates fading in the distance. I really hope this paranoia is just a byproduct of being in the cemetery late at night, but something in my gut tells me it’s far more malicious.

That it’s him.

I slam my door closed behind me, a massive yawn tearing from my mouth as I stumble into the kitchen. The adrenaline from the cemetery kept me awake for most of the way home, but as soon as I parked, a wave of exhaustion poured over me. I don’t even know if I have the strength to take my shoes off before falling into bed. I barely have enough energy to get a glass of water.

As I’m filling the glass under the faucet, a flash of red catches the corner of my eye. My heart lodges in my throat as I turn toward the giant clear tub of… lollipops? Abandoning the glass in the sink, I step over to the tub and grab the note off the lid, my ears deaf to the sound of the faucet running in the background.

My thumb brushes over the messy scrawl, a hint of a smile tipping my lips. Is it fucked up that he broke in to leave these? Sure. But it’s also sweet… in a disturbed kind of way. He even got me my favorite flavor sucker—and a shit ton of them, to boot.

I guess as far as stalkers go, he’s not the worst one to have.

God, I’m fucked up. I cringe, shoving the note deep into the pocket of my sweatpants. I’m about to head into the bedroom, but after a moment’s thought, I reach my hand into the tub and pull out a lolly.

I place the candy on my tongue, savoring the saccharine flood of cherry on my tastebuds. Holy shit. These are the same kind they get at work.

My pulse races as the hairs on my neck rise, alerting me to the same presence plaguing me for the past few days. Unless this is a coincidence, I have to assume he’s able to watch me, even while I’m at work. And I don’t believe in coincidences.

I pull the sucker from my mouth, twirling the cherry red pop by its stick. At the cemetery, I cried to my parents about how lonely I felt, but I never stopped to consider the alternative.

That I’m not alone. Not anymore.

CHAPTER EIGHT

KAIN

I stand in the shadows like usual, puffing on a joint and scanning the street for threats. Even though I can watch her sleeping frame on the video camera, I’m comforted knowing I can get to her at a moment’s notice if something were to endanger her. If someone wanted to, they’d have no trouble breaking into her apartment.

I should fucking know. I’ve been doing it seamlessly for the past few days.

Hushed whispers draw my attention to the sidewalk across the street. While I put my joint out under my shoe, I watch two men in hoodies stop in front of Lillith’s apartment building, their heads bent to conceal their features under the streetlamp.

The taller one on the right raises a finger toward the second floor, turning toward the other and whispering something I can’t make out. As far as I can tell, it’s not Lillith’s window, but I can’t be too cautious. It’s clear these two idiots are up to something shady, and I’m not taking any chances when it comes to my flower.

They step up to the main entrance, and the tall one crouches, working a slim silver pick into the lock. While they’re distracted, I cross the street, my steps as quiet as a cat as I step into the shadows of the courtyard.

“I thought you said you’ve done this before!” the short one hisses, shoving his hands deep into the pockets of his hoodie as he looks left to right. “Hurry up, someone might see.”

“If you shut the fuck up and let me concentrate, I might be able to!”

I roll my eye as the two grown men bicker.

This is just sad.

“Got it! See, I told you I could do it!” The tall one straightens, shooting his partner a haughty grin.

“Awesome. Want a fucking medal?”

“Let’s just get this over with.” He sounds dejected as he follows the short one inside. I follow close, my heart hammering slightly harder as they take the stairwell to Lillith’s floor. I stand just around the corner as they stomp down the hallway, their footsteps as loud as an elephant on the ancient wood planks.

A sigh passes my lips as they continue beyond Lillith’s door, but I don’t move away just yet. The short one stops about three doors down and grips the handle. His face widens into a shit-eating grin as the handle turns, and he shoots his friend a haughty wink.

“Looks like I won’t need you. I think this means I get to take more of the share.”

“Like hell you do!” the tall one whines, pushing his buddy out of the way and storming inside. “We’re splitting the profits. That’s what we agreed on!”

“Whatever, man,” he groans, following the tall one inside.

It’s quiet for a few seconds, and then one of them curses.

“What the fuck, Jack? You said they weren’t cleaning out the old man’s stuff until tomorrow! It’s fucking empty!”

“Don’t blame me! They said they were cleaning it on the fifth!” By the whine in his voice, I assume Jack is the tall one.

“It’s the sixth today, you moron!” the other hisses. “I can’t fucking believe this. We did all of this for nothing!”

“Calm down, Mark. We can still make it worth our while.”

“How? How in the hell would we do that?” Mark sneers.

“There are floors of apartments here, man. You think every single one of them remembered to lock their doors?”

There’s a pause as Mark considers his partner’s idea. “You’re right. Okay, let’s try to make the best of it.”

There’s a shuffle of footsteps, and I pull farther into the shadows. They try each door on the other side of the hallway, then make their way methodically back toward Lillith’s door. It doesn’t look like they’re going to forcibly enter, so as long as she locked her doors—

“Holy shit, Mark. This one’s open!”

My heart lodges in my throat as Jack’s hand turns on Lillith’s door handle. She didn’t fucking lock her door.

“Nice, man!” Mark waggles his brows at Jack, and fury courses through my veins.

No. You won’t even get past the threshold. Not while I’m breathing.

Jack pushes the door open half an inch before I grab his hood, using the leverage to fling him against the far wall. He smacks the floor with a dull thud, causing his buddy to shift his attention from Lillith’s door.

“What the fuck?” Mark’s eyes are wide as I step toward him, my fingers curling around the dagger at my hip. “Who the fuck are y—” I lunge forward, dragging the blade across his throat before he has the chance to finish his sentence. His hands circle his throat, mouth opening and closing like a guppy as he tries to get air past his severed windpipe.

Without speaking, I shove the blade up under his rib cage. He chokes, blood pooling in his mouth as the tip pierces his heart, and then he slumps to the floor. Dead.

“Whathefugg?” Jack mumbles, rubbing his temple as he comes back to consciousness. “Mark? What are you…? Oh my God,” he whispers, his eyes locked on the bloodied mess that used to be Mark. Jack’s throat bobs as he turns to me, his eyes hazy from the concussion.

“Why are you doing this?”

I readjust my grip around the dagger as I step toward him. This time, my voice is the one who screams the loudest.

Because I’m sick. Because you’re vermin. Because it feels good. Because I want to. But most importantly, because you chose the wrong door. Her door.

Before he has time to beg, I force the blade into his heart like his partner, looking deep into Jack’s eyes as the life drains from them. I only pull the blade from his chest when I’m sure he’s gone.

After cleaning the blade on his hoodie, I straighten, looking at the mess I made. I sigh, stepping over Mark’s body to close Lillith’s door.

“Fucking leaves her doors unlocked in this neighborhood. The woman is going to give me a heart attack…” I continue muttering angrily as I throw Jack over my shoulder. “Piece of shit city. Worthless vermin crawling around at all hours of the night.” My face twists in disgust as Jack’s blood seeps into my clothes. “And now I’ll have to get my jacket dry-cleaned. Fucking fantastic.”

I toss Jack’s body in the dumpster sitting in the alleyway to the left of Lillith’s building, then go back for Mark’s. Despite the height difference, he’s significantly heavier than Jack, so I'm out of breath by the time I haul him over the side of the dumpster.

I really shouldn’t smoke so much. I rest my hands on my knees while I catch my breath. I’ll have to call someone to dispose of the dumpster, but I’m not too concerned about anyone finding the men before morning.

With a bitter sigh, I straighten up, and a flash of something white catches my eye. I hadn’t noticed it when standing, but from this position, I can see a small plant growing from a crack behind the dumpster. I cock my head, regarding its flowers with intrigue.

What on earth is a lily doing here?

I crouch, stroking the velvety petals between my fingers. In a way, it reminds me of my Lillith. A perfect, beautiful flower standing out against the pollution. It’s determined to survive, even in the harshest of environments.

I move to another flower, this one with pale purple dots at the base of the petals.

No—not just surviving. Flourishing.

Without thinking, I pluck the flower from the base and stand, twirling it by the stem and watching the moonlight dance off the petals. I give the plant a silent thanks for its sacrifice, then stalk out of the shadows and up the stone steps to Lillith’s apartment. As I glance at the flower in my palm, something akin to a smile tugs at my lips.

A beautiful gift for a beautiful girl.

CHAPTER NINE

LILLITH

"Don't worry, sweetie. You'll be with them soon."

I can’t move, can’t take my eyes off the slow drip… drip… drip…

There's a clicking noise above my head, and I try to make sense of what the bad man is saying. I shake Mommy's shoulder, tears welling and making it hard to see her pretty pale face.

Pale. Why is she so pale? So cold. My mother is supposed to be warm. Warm, and kind, and safe all the time.

"Mommy?" I sniffle, watching that warm red pool around my light-up sneakers. "Mommy, wake up!"

"Mommy's not going to wake up, you stupid fucking brat," the man sneers, pressing something cold and hard to the back of my head. "She's dead. D. E. A. D. Did your fucking egg donor teach you how to spell?" He spits on the ground next to her head, and something hot tightens in my chest.

"Say goodbye, little brat." He laughs, cold and hard, but I can barely hear it over the loud swooshing in my ears. Mommy. Daddy. He killed them. He killed, killed, killed them.

My palms tighten into balls of pure rage, and the petals squish between my fingers. Gone. They're gone, and it's his fault.

Before either of us realizes what's going on, I whip around and sink my teeth into his forearm. The taste of pennies coats my tongue as I clamp my jaw as tight as I can, deaf to his screaming. Realizing I'm not going to let go without a fight, he starts swinging his arm, and my feet leave the ground as he whips me around like a fish caught on a line.

Frantic, he spins and slams me into the alley wall, and the breath leaves my lungs as my body makes impact. White, blinding pain radiates through my bones, my jaw goes slack, and the ground meets me with another painful blow.

"FUCK!" the man screeches, stumbling back and accidentally firing off a shot. It hits the alley wall, spraying bits of rubble into the air—one of which lands squarely in the bad man's eye. A string of curses spew from his mouth, and from the way his voice rises in pitch, he must be in a lot of pain.

"My fucking eye!" he screams, swinging his arm out wildly in my direction. He misses, and his forearm slams into the brick wall above my head, spraying droplets of red onto my face.

Before he has the chance to swing again, I duck out from under him and start sprinting down the alley. I push and push, I swing my arms back and forth as hard as I can, but I don't move. The shadows creep in from my periphery, closing in with curling tendrils of doom, and I know that I won't be able to outrun him.

I can hear him behind me—Closing in, one footstep at a time. Closer, closer, closer…

“Fuck!” I gasp, bolting upright as the contents of my room come back into focus.

I’m safe. I’m in bed. It was just a dream.

Golden light seeps in through the thin part of the curtains, letting me know I slept in far longer than usual. Although it certainly doesn’t feel like it.

I groan, rubbing a hand over my sleep-crusted eyes. The nightmare has plagued me every day this week, and the increased frequency is starting to cause alarm. Before I met the scarred man, I’d have it once a week, tops. But now…

I groan, swinging my legs over the side of the bed. Herb taps at my window like usual, but I only have the energy to give him a few scratches and seed before heading to the bathroom. Still half-asleep, I pull the shower curtain back, twisting the nozzle as hot as it will go, and step under the powerful stream. Ice-cold water beats down on my skin, sending my system into a brief period of shock from the temperature change. I grit my teeth against the impulse to pull back even as my lips begin to numb.

When I can’t take a second longer, the water warms. I relax into the stream, my eyes fluttering as the blood rushes back to my extremities. There’s something euphoric about the pleasure that comes after a struggle. The older I get, the more I intentionally put myself in positions of strife just so I can breathe in the high that comes after. After the shitstorm last night, I need all the dopamine I can get.

Thirty minutes later, I step out feeling more human but still exhausted. A yawn tears from my mouth as I stumble to the closet and throw on a pair of scrubs I borrowed from the hospital.

I’m in the process of shoving my second sneaker on when I see it. A single white lily lies at the foot of my bed, its delicate white petals resting on the edge of a scrap of paper.

Dread laces the curiosity in my veins as I pick it up. The faded note is coated with pollen, and I have to shake off some of the orange dust before I can read the messy handwriting. As soon as I do, I wish I hadn’t.

I stumble back, the blood draining from my face. Unlike the last two notes, this one is full of malice. Whether it’s directed at me, I have no idea or desire to find out.

And just what the hell does he mean, lock your doors? I always…

My heart lodges in my throat. When I returned from the cemetery last night, I was too tired to take my clothes off. I must have left it unlocked.

I let out a breath. So he’s pissed I didn’t lock my doors. That’s… sweet, right?

Right?

I press two fingers to the sides of my temples, desperate for some relief. I’m not sure if it’s because I’ve been actively not thinking about this morning, but I’ve had a raging headache ever since I started my shift.

Thankfully, the ER is uncharacteristically slow for a Friday afternoon, so I haven’t needed to use my head for much else. It’s six, so there’s only an hour until I get to head home, but the minutes feel like hours.

“Hey, Lilly!” a deep male voice calls out behind me, and I whip my head to face the grinning face of Sam, one of the emergency medicine residents I’ve gotten friendly with these past few weeks. As he nears, a bright white smile lights up his handsome features, adding to the allure of his bright baby blues and messy blond hair.

“Hey, Sam.” I try and fail to return his smile as he nears. God, my head is pounding. “What’s up?”

“Just making sure we’re still on for tonight?” he asks, widening his baby blues with a hopeful look.

Oh shit. I try not to let my face mirror my thoughts as I give him what I hope is a pleasant smile. With everything that’s happened over the past couple of days, my date with the handsome resident slipped my mind. Sam caught me last week after a grueling twenty-four-hour shift, and I was too exhausted then to refuse the date, convinced I would remember to cancel on a later day.

Well, today is that day.

“Listen, Sam…” I begin, thinking of all the ways I can get out of this. My guinea pig died. My favorite show is on tonight. I’m allergic to first dates. “I’m really tired, and—”

His face drops like he knows what I’m going to say next. Jesus, it’s like I just kicked a puppy. My stomach knots with guilt, so before I have time to think better of it, the words pour out of my mouth.

“Fine. Pick me up at my place around nine. I’ll text you the address,” I say, holding back my sigh.

“Really?” His eyes light with glee, making me feel slightly better for doing a good deed. “Okay, great! See you tonight!” He grins, shooting finger guns as he backs around the corner.

I really hope this doesn’t turn out to be a mistake.

“You look beautiful,” Sam breathes, trailing his eyes slowly across my tank top-clad chest. I cross my arms protectively, not comfortable with how boldly he’s undressing me with his eyes. I wouldn’t normally wear such a casual outfit on a first date, but it was the only decent thing in my wardrobe other than my scrubs.

“Thanks,” I say, tugging at the hem of my jean shorts. “Are you ready to go?”

“Hell yeah.” He grins, flashing those brilliant veneers before waving me to follow him to his car. I don’t know anything about them, but it has four wheels and looks well maintained, so I’m happy to hop inside when he opens the passenger door for me.

“Where are we headed?” I ask, reaching for my seat belt as he peels out of the parking lot. I unwrap one of the cherry lollipops I brought with me and place it into my mouth, trying to ignore the warmth growing between my thighs as I think about the man who gifted it to me.

Stop that. You’re on a date with Sam. Sam is good. Sam is safe. More importantly, Sam doesn’t leave bloody notes on your doorstep.

I’m brought out of my thoughts as Sam’s excited rumble sounds from my left. “We’re going to the Tipsy Phoenix. My cousin told me about it, and it’s supposed to be super exclusive. Apparently, it’s got this grungy, underground speakeasy vibe, and I’ve been wanting to try it out for a minute. Just never had someone to go with.” He takes his eye off the road to grin and reaches his hand across the center to rest on my thigh. For some reason, the contact makes my skin crawl, and I try my best to discreetly wriggle away from his reach.

“Someone a little nervous?” he coos, mistaking my resistance for first-date jitters as he digs his fingertips into my upper thigh. “How about I help you relax?”

My body freezes as he trails his hand slowly toward my core, easing past the hem of my shorts. It’s only when his fingertips brush the edge of my panties that I come to my senses, and I quickly push my hand against his forearm to stop his assault. His eyes flash with annoyance, but thankfully, he withdraws his hand with a forced chuckle.

“Sorry. I got a little carried away.” He brushes the situation away with a wave of his hand and a wink. “You’re just too damn sexy.”

“It’s okay,” I murmur, squeezing my thighs together as he rests his palm on my knee. “I just don’t really do… that.”

“Hey, there’s a first time for everything.” Sam laughs easily and throws another wink my way. “We’ll see how you feel after I get a few drinks in you.”

I try to laugh along politely but find it gets stuck somewhere down my throat. What I want to do is tell him to fuck off. I haven’t let anyone go there in twenty-four years, and I’m sure as hell not going to start with a man whose aftershave burns my nose hairs.

Instead, I give him a weak smile and reach for the radio, turning it up loud enough to drown out any possible conversation he might want to have for the rest of the drive.

CHAPTER TEN

KAIN

I grit my teeth at the sight across the bar, squeezing my fingers so tightly around the crystal tumbler it shatters in my palm. Several people around me gasp, but I pay them as much attention as I do my hand, gushing blood from several large puncture wounds. My focus is solely on the couple on the other side of the room, nestled snugly in their own private booth.

Lillith pushes her glossy black hair away from her face, showcasing her high cheekbones and deliciously plump lips. They curve into a smile just before she throws her head back, and my fingers itch to reach out and touch her.

She’s so fucking gorgeous, it hurts. Hurts to sit here and do nothing. To fight the urge.

I slam my bloodied fist on the counter, causing the bartender to fumble the pitcher in his hands. I crook my finger at him, and he eyes me dubiously but still makes his way over.

“I need another,” I growl, nodding my hoodie-clad head in the direction of the shattered remains.

“I’m pretty sure you’ve had enough, sir,” he deadpans, crooking an eyebrow at the puddle of crimson forming around my fist. “And I think you might need to go to the hospital,” he murmurs, leaning in closer to inspect the damage.

So close. Close enough to smell, to shove a dagger through that skeptical eye.

I rip my hood off and let the man get a nice long look at my masked features. His eyes go wide with recognition, and he stumbles back into the counter.

“I-I’m sorry, Kain. I had no idea! I’ll get you another right away!” he stammers.

I pull my hood back up as he busies himself over a new crystal glass, my gaze drawn toward the couple I’ve been watching for the past hour. The naive blond fuck could have taken Lillith anywhere, but he chose this shithole. To make matters worse, it’s Bike Nite at the Tipsy Phoenix, meaning the place is crawling with Serpents, Hounds, and the rest of the city’s vermin. Half the men in here have been ogling her, undressing her all night with their slobbering, lust-filled gazes, just waiting for their opportunity to pounce. It’s only a matter of time before something bad happens, and her date is either too stupid or too selfish to realize the kind of danger he’s put her in.

The bartender slides the glass over to me, and I briefly take my eyes off the black-haired beauty to reach for my wallet.

“No, no!” The man waves me off. “It’s on the house.”

I nod, then take the contents back in a single gulp. I make the mistake of looking over toward the pair just as he leans in, meaning to place his revolting mouth against hers.

Fuck, fuck, fuck, FUCK!

I slam my fist down, every muscle in my body twitching with the need to rip his hands from his body. From my flower. Holding my head in my hands, I rake my fingernails through my hair and groan, my heart seconds away from exploding.

She’s mine! Mine, mine, mine!

An image of their bodies naked and entwined sparks behind my eyelids, and a howl of rage threatens to break free. I’ll die before I let that happen. Lillith belongs to me. And I don’t share my toys.

I stand from my barstool and stalk toward them before I have time to think better of it. I make it to the middle of the dance floor, so out of my mind that I forget my surroundings and knock directly into someone’s shoulder. I try to brush him off, but the stupid fuck actually grabs my arm and tries to yank me back toward him.

“Watch where you’re going, freak.” The man grunts, stumbling backward as I rip my arm from his grasp. Now that I have a good distance, I take a moment to size him up. He’s big, but I’ve taken down men twice his size with little resistance. He’ll be no exception.

Are you sure you want to do this? My eye conveys the message as I cock my head, using my elbow to push my leather jacket to the side, showcasing the piece strapped to my hip. One last warning.

The big man scoffs, doing the same to his own jacket to reveal his own weapon.

My gaze snaps toward the corner where Lillith and her date are still seated. I can’t risk him losing his head and firing into the crowd. Can’t risk her getting hurt.

I look at the man’s stance, his broad legs spread out to the side and his chest puffed in what most men think is intimidating. A shitty fighting stance.

Before he can blink, I crouch down low and barrel full speed toward him, shoving my fist into the crook of his kneecap until it pops, sending him crashing to the floor like a giant fallen tree. The back of his head hits the tile with a loud crack, and I use his moment of disorientation to straddle his chest. I swing my fist into the bridge of his nose, and it cracks before crimson fluid gushes down the front of his chest and neck.

“S-stop. Please,” he chokes, bucking his hips wildly in a desperate attempt to unseat me.

I strike without thought, giving the voice in my mind a body, a fist to bring the malice to life. When the fog of my anger clears, I realize a large crowd has formed around us. Several hands grab at my jacket, trying to pull me off the bloodied heap beneath me.

“Oh my God!” an angelic voice rings out clear across the packed space, making its way to my ears despite all the commotion around me. My arm freezes in midair as I bring my head up, watching as the big blond idiot grabs her by the arm and drags her toward the exit. Rage, more intense than I’ve ever felt, builds in my chest, and before I know it, I’m pushing off the floor in pursuit, forgetting about the man from earlier. I make it to the door just in time to see him shove her into his car, and I let out a furious roar as I pound my fist into the drywall, leaving a considerably sized hole in its wake.

“Motherfucker,” I snarl, nearly ripping the door from its hinges as I rush outside and down the steps toward my bike. I mount the beast and speed off in the direction of the car before I have time to consider how fucking reckless I’m being.

Right now, I need to take care of my flower.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

LILLITH

“I’m really sorry, Lilly. I had no idea that would happen back there, I swear.”

“It’s fine,” I murmur, trying to wriggle farther toward the passenger door to put some distance between my leg and Sam’s fingers. In truth, the fight and blood hadn’t really bothered me all that much. The real problem is the paranoia that has taken over me, slowly choking me from the inside. Like I’ve done something bad, and my dark, scarred angel is watching, waiting for the moment to exact his revenge.

I might actually be going insane.

“Lilly? Did you hear what I said?”

I snap my head back toward Sam with an awkward smile, trying to remember what he was saying. “Uh, sorry. I must have zoned out there for a second. You were saying?”

For a split second, his eyes flash with irritation, but he continues without protest.

“Now where was I… Oh yeah! So me and Mark are absolutely wasted at Casa Tequila, and Mark—fucking Mark—he decides he needs to take a shit, right? So I say, “Mark buddy, just go back to the hotel room and do your business.” But Mark’s a fucking animal. He’s taken so many shots, he doesn’t know his dick from his pinky toe, and he kind of stumbles outside to the fountain, takes down his drawers, and takes a full-on dump in front of this bachelorette party doing a photo shoot! Can you fucking believe it?”

Sam waits patiently for my response, but I’m so busy wishing for a quick and speedy death that I don’t notice until he coughs to regain my attention.

“Uh, sorry,” I mutter, trying to remember something from his story to comment on and coming up short. “That was… really funny, Sam.”

Thankfully, that’s all he really needs from me. Grinning from ear to ear, he launches into another story involving his good friend Matt—or maybe it was Mark. I can’t really remember, nor do I care to. Instead, I stare straight ahead, watching the road as Sam prattles on, making sure to nod every few seconds so he doesn’t know I’m drowning his voice out. We’ve been in this car for over an hour navigating traffic, and if I have to listen to one more of his stories, I will leap from the moving vehicle.

“And then—okay, this part you really won’t believe—she and her friend give my boy their digits.” Sam laughs as the car rolls to a stop outside my apartment building.

Thank the fucking lord.

“I mean, can you believe that? I told you he’s a fucking beast.”

I stare at Sam blankly, not quite having the strength to point out that his “boy” probably got the numbers to a fast-food chain, and those girls definitely giggled about how stupid he was later.

“That’s nice.” I smile at him and discreetly reach for the door handle. “Well, this was really fun, Sam. I’ll see you at work tomorrow?” I shove the door open, getting one of my legs out onto the pavement before Sam grips my arm and hauls me back into the car.

“Going so soon?” he coos into my ear, brushing a large hand across my throat and settling over the top of my windpipe. My breath quickens as he holds gentle pressure, keeping me locked in place against his chest.

“Sam…what are you doing?” I whisper, shooting a nervous look around the empty streets.

“Shhh. I’m going to make you feel good,” he murmurs, sliding his other hand up my abdomen and cupping my breast. I wriggle against him in an attempt to get free, but all it does is provide more friction between me and his growing member at my back. His fingertips slide past the top of my bralette, and I freeze, my eyes going wide as he toys with my nipple.

“Sam, stop,” I order, bucking against him. “Stop. I’m serious.”

“It doesn’t seem like you’re serious,” Sam groans, pawing me roughly. “I know you want me, baby. Relax.”

The pet name that spews from his mouth has my fight instinct flaring, and I react without thinking. Reeling forward, I force my elbow back into his sternum as hard as I can, causing his hold on me to break as he chokes from the pain.

“What the fuck, Lilly?” he groans, falling backward and clutching the spot I struck. “I think you broke my fucking ribs.”

“I told you to stop. I think we’re even now.”

“Like hell we are,” he snarls, his ribs forgotten as he lunges toward me. His hand wraps around my arms, closing the distance between our faces. His hot breath fans my face, sending my stomach churning, and I have to force down the bile rising in my throat.

“I know you want this, you little tease,” he whispers, his eyes wild with lust. “Let me be the one to break that little pussy in.”

He leans in, and just before his lips connect with mine, a massive crash fills the cabin.

“What the fuck?” Sam yelps, his mouth wide as the glass flies around his head. A brick sails through the busted window, landing on Sam’s lap with a dull thud.

Using the distraction to my advantage, I leap from the car, not bothering to look back and check who threw the brick as I race across the cracked pavement toward my building. With trembling hands, I shove the key in and all but tear the door from its hinges as I wrench the thing open. Too scared to look back, I slam the door closed behind me and race up the stairs to the second floor, needing more than one barrier between me and the man I just assaulted.

Once I’m safely locked inside my apartment, I step over to the bed and slump face-first onto the mattress. I try to take a few deep breaths to calm my racing pulse, but it doesn’t help.

I groan, rolling over to my back to stare mindlessly at the ceiling. If I knew Sam was going to pull something so shitty, I never would have agreed to go out with him tonight. Although, can I really blame him for wanting more at the end of the date? I hadn’t exactly stopped his advances throughout the night. Maybe it was my fault, and I reacted too harshly.

A little voice in the back of my mind screams that I didn’t do enough, didn’t hurt him nearly enough, but I dutifully ignore it, letting my guilt consume me.

I force my legs over the bed and toward the window, pulling the curtains back just in time to see a pair of glowing red taillights as Sam’s car speeds off down the street.

Good riddance.

I sigh, stepping back from the window. I check my locks twice, then hop into bed, my mind reeling from tonight’s events. I doubt I’ll get much sleep tonight, and even then, I have no doubt it’ll be plagued with nightmares.

That silver gaze is calling.

CHAPTER TWELVE

KAIN

My knuckles are white on the steering wheel of Sam’s car, unable to drown out the images of his hands on her. I should have killed him. I would have, but I couldn’t risk Lillith looking out her window and seeing me.

I slam my fist into the door at my left, barely registering the sharp, splitting pain as I berate myself for how impulsive I’d been. I hate the lack of control I have when it comes to her. Breaking his kneecaps in the middle of the street was risky. Too risky, even in her shithole of a neighborhood.

I just couldn’t help it. When I saw that fucking oaf’s hands on her, I…

I slam my fist onto the steering wheel, gritting my teeth against the roar that wants to tear from my chest. There’s a sour taste in my mouth I’m dying to get rid of, a dark cloud swirling in my mind, reminding me that the beast in me has to be fed.

I need to hurt something.

I contemplate taking out more of my aggression on the pond scum thrashing around in the back seat but quickly think better of it. A cruel smirk tugs the corner of my mouth as I take the next right toward Moriton Memorial. He’s going to make a great present for my flower.

If only she knew what I have planned for her, the things I’m going to do to break her and ruin every last shred of innocence living in those big green eyes. My cock presses painfully against the confines of my denim jeans, and I let out a groan, not quite sure how much longer I can wait.

I pull the joint from my lips as a team of hospital staff swirls around the bloody mess lying in a heap on the hospital steps. He’ll live, though he’s going to wish he hadn’t when he wakes up with his new face.

Flinging the slim paper cone out the window, I peel out of the darkened parking lot. Now that the nardless little shit is taken care of, I need to dump his car. As long as I pick the right alleyway, the thing will be stripped by morning. Sometimes it’s a good thing this city is as depraved as it is. Especially for people like me.

I pull onto a side street about a mile from Lillith’s apartment. Leaving the keys in the ignition, I step onto the cracked pavement and pull my hood over my head. I stalk away from the vehicle and into the shadows, pulling my phone out and thumbing the VidCam app.

My little flower is cocooned in bed, her body thrashing violently against the nightmare tormenting her sleep. I frown. I don’t like how frequently she has them. If I could, I’d reach into her pretty little head and strangle the demons that live there. I drag my thumb softly across the screen, wishing I was the sheet wrapped around her perfect little body.

Soon, flower. Soon.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

LILLITH

My legs burn, my lungs scream for air that won't come, but I have to keep running. He'll catch me if I don't. Catch me, and kill me—just like he did to Mommy and Daddy.

"Come here, little bitch," the cloying voice that rings out mere feet behind me causes every muscle in my body to shiver in terror, and I pump my arms harder. "Don't be scared. I just want to repay you for what you did to my fucking eye."

I have to keep running. If he catches me—

"There you are." A gloved hand wraps around my arm and yanks me so hard my feet come off the ground. A scream pierces the air as my body is dragged backward, and it takes me a few seconds to realize the sound is coming from me. The gravel digs into my knees as I'm dragged, and it's not until that familiar warm red starts cascading down my legs that I break from my terrified trance.

"NO!" I scream, writhing and fighting against his cold grip. It does more harm than good, and when I pitch too hard to the side, my shoulder pops out of its socket. "Mommy!" I cry, breaking down as the searing pain shocks my system. "Mommy, it hurts!"

"Jesus, we've been over this. Mommy's DEAD, you dumb cunt."

I can't hear him, can't hear anything over the screaming of my shoulder. "Daddy! Mommy! Please," I cry, my entire body shuddering with the strength of my sobs. If I close my eyes, maybe I'll wake up. Maybe I'll open my eyes, and this will all be a dre—

Taptaptap! Taptaptap!

"I know, I know," I groan, rolling out of bed and cringing at the twinge in my neck. I have to fight to keep my eyes open as I stumble over to the window, barely having enough strength to pry it open.

"Must you always be so rude?"

The little pigeon blinks at me, lifting one leg to scratch behind his wing. Then, to add insult to injury, he shits on my sill.

"You know, you're making it kind of hard to defend your species, Herb," I grumble, placing a handful of seed onto the sill. "Really damn hard."

A brighter-sounding coo breaks the silence as Herb starts pecking at his breakfast, and my lips quirk in a smile as I take in the small white pigeon perched to Herb's left.

"Hello, Sally," I breathe, reaching out toward her snowy feathers. She fluffs and scootches away from me, her beady eyes trained on her mate with alarm.

"Sorry," I murmur, my smile dropping as I retract my arm. She doesn't trust me—and why should she? Just because her man said so? That hardly seems like a worthy enough reason to me.

"You better hold onto her, Herb. She's too smart for you." A laugh bubbles past my lips as Sally raises her head proudly, her beautiful feathers shining in the dawn light.

I walk to the bathroom with a spring in my step, stopping at the threshold to sneak one last look at the happy couple. Herb has abandoned his breakfast, his piercing black eyes watching the horizon for potential threats as his mate enjoys the seed at his feet.

It's adorable the way he dotes on her—watches out for her, even when she doesn't realize it. It almost reminds me of Kain.

Nope. Not going there.

I shake the thoughts away as a mighty sigh passes my lips, praying that a long shower will be enough to get my mind right in time for my shift.

I yank out my phone and open the scheduling app to check the rooms I'm assigned to, sighing when I see only a few on the list for today. I'm exhausted, and to top it off, every time I close my eyes, I get a flash of that scarred, mutilated face. It feels like the hospital walls have eyes, and each one is trained on my helpless, naive being.

I shake away that creeping sensation and pull my shoulders back, trudging over to the elevator and pressing the button for the post-op floor. I try to take a deep breath to calm my nerves, but the air in the cramped space is heavy and only compounds the problem. I can’t stop thinking about him, about the motives behind his actions. I’ve ruled out pure malice alone, but it brings me no peace of mind. Especially not after that last note.

I’m terrified—not of him but of my mind. Something sick and twisted is dying to come to the surface, and it frightens me. The more time that passes, the more I desire his advances in the dead of night, the more excited I feel by his bizarre gifts and gestures. I almost wish he would make contact. If I see him in person again, I might be able to figure out the mess my head is in.

“Come on, Lillith. Pull it together,” I murmur, squeezing my eyes shut tight as I try to stop the rapid rise and fall of my chest. I have to get through today. If I can do that, everything will be fine.

As soon as the doors slide open, I force my body upright and step out of the box, trying to fake a look of confidence as I make my way past the nurses' station to room 912. Raising my fist, I knock lightly on the door before pushing inside.

“Good morning! How are you feeling toda—” My voice stops short when I realize just who my first patient of the day is. “Sam,” I breathe, my eyes wide as I take in the thick white casts covering his legs. “What happened?”

The face that stares back is nearly unrecognizable. What were once handsome features have been reduced to a swollen, bruised mess. A thick piece of plaster is taped to the bridge of his nose, contrasting starkly with the purpled skin under his eyes. I take a step forward, my hand outstretched toward his shoulder. Even though he’d been a complete ass last night, I never wanted this to happen to him.

“You,” he whispers, his light blue eyes glowing with thinly veiled terror. “What are you doing? Get away from me!” he screams, his voice slightly garbed by the balls of cotton filling his bloodied mouth. “Help! Someone, please! Help me!”

“Whoa!” I jump back from him, holding my hands up in a defensive posture. “Relax, Sam. It’s me, Lilly. You know me,” I say, keeping my voice soft in an attempt to calm the feral look in his eyes. “Can I come back over now?”

“No!” he screeches, little droplets of crimson flying from his open mouth as he tries to shift farther away from me in the tiny bed. “Get the fuck away from me!”

“Hey, is there a problem here?”

“Yes!” he shrieks, blood and drool pooling down the side of his mouth. “You need to get her away from me!”

The tech darts her eyes back and forth between us nervously. “Sir, I promise that you’re in good hands. Why don’t you just—”

“GET HER AWAY!” he screams, the device holding his plastered legs in the air swaying from the force of his movements.

“Okay! Okay!” she relents, rushing into the room and over to his bedside. “We’ll get you someone else.” She turns her head to me. “I got it from here.”

“Yeah, okay,” I mutter, taking one last glance at Sam’s wary expression before turning on my heel and hurrying out of the room. I press my back against the door, forcing it closed and letting out my breath. My legs quake with the effort of having to hold me upright, and dark spots line my vision. Knowing I’m seconds away from passing out, I slide down the door to the ground, hanging my head between my knees as I attempt to take a few deep breaths.

I keel over to the side in a dry heave as the ground spins out from under me. It doesn’t make any sense. He was fine last night when I saw him drive away. What in God’s name could have happened in the few hours we were apart?

It was him, wasn’t it? He threw the brick last night, and now he’s hurt Sam.

My chest constricts in a blind panic as I remember the look on Sam’s face when he saw me just a moment ago. Oh God, did he do this because we went out last night? Or because he heard me struggling to get Sam to stop?

The worms, the flower, the lollipops—they were all so innocent. But this? This is too fucking far. This is wrong.

Even after what he did to you last night? Even after what he was going to take from you?

I shudder at that voice in my mind, focusing instead on taking deep breaths through my nose.

“Ma’am, is everything okay?”

My head whips up, and I nearly keel over with relief at the sight of the blue police officer’s uniform. All they have to do is listen to my story and look at Sam’s wounds, and they’ll do something about it. The evidence will speak for itself.

“Officer, I need to talk to you!” I urge, adrenaline coursing through my veins as I peel my body off the floor. “It’s important!”

“Okay…” He eyes me with a guarded expression, crossing his arms over his sizable gut while he waits for me to elaborate.

“Sir, my friend in there was attacked!” I say, gesturing wildly in the direction of Sam’s room.

“I know,” the officer grunts, eyeing Sam’s door with a bored expression. “I just took the statement from your friend. He was jumped by a couple of homeless guys last night on Main.”

“Are you sure?” My mind reels. This makes less and less sense the more I learn. We were on Main Street for our date—why would he go back? To blow off some steam after what happened when he dropped me off? My stomach roils with guilt at the thought.

The officer eyes me like I’ll fly off the handle at any moment. “Yes, ma’am, I’m sure,” he says, looking like he would rather dip his hand in hot oil than continue this conversation. “My advice would be to go home and get some rest. You look like you could use some sleep.”

Rage lights my veins as I watch the thoughts flare in his dull brown eyes. Crazy. Unhinged, delirious woman.

“I’ll try,” I mumble, turning from him so he doesn’t see the outrage twisting my face. When he’s out of sight, I shudder, leaning against the wall for support when my knees give out.

What am I going to do? What am I going to do?

I jerk as my phone pings with a text, and though dread weighs me down, I pull it from my pocket, my fingers trembling slightly as I click to my messages. There’s a text from a number I don’t recognize, but as soon as I read the simple line of text, I know exactly who sent it.

Unknown:

Did you like my present?

The room spins, falling out from under me. Then everything goes black.

When I come to, I’m in a bed I don’t recognize. The only thing that stops me from leaping up in fright is the hospital’s tattered blanket wrapped around my shoulders. As I lie there with my eyes shut tight, everything comes flooding back. Sam, the text, the impact of the floor and my temple right before I passed out.

I’m so incredibly fucked.

“Lilly? You awake?”

My eyes shoot open to the sight of Drew, his brows drawn in a pained expression. If I didn’t know better, I’d think he was the one who hit his head.

“Hey, sleepyhead.” His lips part as he reaches out, gently tucking a loose strand of hair behind my ear. “You took a pretty nasty fall earlier. How’s the head?”

“Like a million tiny men are sledgehammering it from the inside. How long have I been out?”

Drew’s mouth pops to answer as the door bursts open, revealing a smiling Dr. Slater.

“There’s my favorite intern!” He strides over to the bed, flipping through the chart in his hands. “You took a pretty nasty fall, Ms. Hayes.”

“That seems to be the consensus.”

His eyes raise to meet mine, amusement flashing in their pale depths. “It seems you haven’t lost that dry sense of humor. That’s a good sign.”

I fiddle with the IV attached to the top of my hand. “So can I get back to work now? I’m behind as it is.”

“You don’t need to worry about that, Ms. Hayes,” Dr. Slater mumbles, diverting his attention to the chart. “I’m prescribing an evening’s rest.”

My mouth pops open in indignation, but Dr. Slater’s look has my words dying in my throat. “Your body was close to crashing, Lillith. When’s the last time you slept?”

I don’t answer, don’t dare to open my mouth for fear that everything that’s happened in the past week will spew out. The man, the recurring nightmares, the drip, drip, drip of my parents' blood. Sam’s bruised, broken body…

I must look terrible because Dr. Slater pulls a bucket from beneath the bed and sets it on my lap.

“Lillith…” His mouth twists with sympathy. Not the manufactured kind he reserves for patients but real, honest concern. “I don’t expect you to tell me what’s really going on, but I am asking you to listen to my advice. Go home, get some sleep.” He gives me an authoritative glance. “Unless you’d like me to suspend you for a week. The choice is yours.”

My chest tightens. The last thing I want is to go home, where I have nothing to keep me company but my wretched thoughts. Thoughts of him.

“Lilly?”

I jump, having forgotten Drew was still here. “Sorry. I’ll do it. I’ll go home and rest like you said.” I doubt the smile I give Dr. Slater is convincing.

He sniffs, looking dubious. “Okay. I’ll see you tomorrow, Ms. Hayes.” He shoots Drew a look that screams make sure she listens, then swirls from the room as swiftly as he arrived.

The door clicks shut, and I let out a deep breath, leaning my head back against the wall. What the hell am I supposed to do now? How am I supposed to go home and pretend everything’s fine?

“Lilly? You okay?” Drew asks, resting his hand on top of mine. His skin is soft and warm, everything I should crave, but I can’t stop the urge to rip it out from under him. I wonder what the scarred man’s hands would feel like against my skin, calloused and strong and—

“Hellooo? Earth to Lillith.”

I shake the thoughts away, turning to Drew with an apologetic smile. “Hey. Sorry, I’m not sure where I was.”

“You’re telling me,” he mumbles, his brows narrowing as he examines my expression. “I still think I should order that MRI.”

“I just bumped my head. It’s not a big deal, Drew,” I huff, crossing my arms. “Can I go home now? I don’t like being on the other side of this doctor-patient relationship.”

Drew barks a laugh. “I can see that.”

I shake my IV-laden wrist at him, about to rip the damn thing out, when the door bursts open once more. Our heads snap toward the door, and Drew’s confusion mirrors my own as Sandra whirls inside, weighed down by the drug tray in her arms.

Her mouth begins the motion of a smile, but as soon as she notices Drew at the side of my bed, she balks.

“What are you doing here, Sandra?” Drew asks, his voice low and menacing. I turn to him, about to ask who shit in his Froot Loops, when I notice his murderous expression. What the actual hell?

Sandra sniffs, shifting the heavy tray in her grip. “I came to give Ms. Hayes some medicine. Dr. Slater wants me to give her something to relax.”

Drew cocks his head and holds out his hand. “Great timing, I was just about to take out her IV.” When Sandra doesn’t move, he makes a come-hither motion with his fingers. “Give it to me. I’ll do it.”

She gives him a glare but says nothing. I look back and forth between the two of them, confusion muddling my already fuzzy thoughts.

“I’m perfectly capable of doing it, Sandra. Give me the medicine,” Drew demands, making that motion with his hand once more.

“I have orders from—”

“I said it’s not necessary, Sandra!” Drew hisses, effectively cutting her off. “Give it to me.”

She sniffs, turning to the side ever so slightly. Her movements are so quick that I nearly miss it, but I swear she switches out the bottle in her hand for another in the tray.

“Here.” She thrusts the small glass vial at Drew, and I don’t miss the way he double-checks the label.

“Thanks. I’ll see you later, Sandra.”

The two exchange a conspiratorial look that I can’t decipher, but I don’t have time to question her before she slips from the room.

“Drew?” I turn to him, but he doesn’t look up from the bottle. He holds it to the light, seeming to check for something. “Drew, what are you doing?”

“Nothing. I think she gave me an expired bottle.” He shakes his head with a chuckle, hastily tucking the bottle into his scrub pocket. “I can’t risk my favorite intern like that. Let’s get you out of here.” A smile that raises the hair on the back of my neck follows. “I’ll drive you home.”

Not a question but a demand. Suddenly, there’s not enough space between us or oxygen in the room.

“There’s no need, remember? Nothing in my system but saline.” I shake my wrist for good measure. “But thanks for the offer.” I begin to remove the tape holding the catheter in place, refusing to acknowledge the chocolate eyes locked on my profile.

“I really think you should let me—”

“Drew? Drop it,” I bark, snapping my head up. There’s a pang of guilt as his face drops, but I don’t like how pushy he’s being, and I’m far too cranky to pretend otherwise. “Please, just… I think I need to be alone for a while.” A lie. A bald-faced lie when the last thing I want is to be in the company of my thoughts. There’s just something about that smile that has my gut screaming and my survival instincts flaring.

For a second, I’m worried he’s going to fight me. I watch the thought flash in his eyes, but thankfully, he doesn’t voice it.

“If that’s really what you want.”

“It is.” I nod, ignoring the little voice in the back of my mind that wants to please everyone but me. That smile… I have to remember that smile. “Thanks for checking on me, Drew. I really appreciate it. I just…”

“Need a minute to yourself. I get it.” The grin he gives me doesn’t quite reach his eyes, but at least it’s not that horrible predatory one from earlier. He stands from the bed, giving me a sad little wave before exiting the room. The door clicks softly, and I heave a massive sigh.

That was… odd. I’ve never felt unsafe around Drew. In fact, it’s always been the complete opposite. I shake my head, ignoring that silly little screaming in the back of my mind. I’m paranoid from lack of sleep, that’s all. It’s like Dr. Slater said. I just need some sleep, and all will be fine.

As I rise from the bed and collect my phone from the bench, I have to fight the urge to look at the message from my stalker. Because if I’m honest, I’m not scared of him or even disgusted.

And that’s the most terrifying truth of them all.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

KAIN

My gaze trails Lillith as she swirls around her apartment, scrubbing the place spotless. She’s been doing it for hours, from the minute she got home from work. There’s a tugging in my chest as I watch her frenzied movements, and the memory of her fainting replays in my mind like a fucked-up motion picture.

The fact she could have been hurt and that I wasn’t there to catch her when I was the one who caused it… I’ve done a lot of fucked-up things in my life, but something tells me that will be one of the only things I never forgive myself for.

Lillith stands, wiping the back of her hand over her brow as she inspects the spotless flooring. I swear, the only thing she hasn’t scrubbed is the walls…

I spoke too soon.

I sigh, rubbing a hand over my masked face as she furiously rubs at the paint-chipped walls of her bedroom. Her movements remind me of another, and though I was nearly too young to form memories, I can still recall the way my mother would scrub the house whenever my father would come back from a job. It was like she was trying to wash away the stains he left on her mind, and the shining floorboards were just a byproduct.

It kills me to watch my flower go through such similar motions. I want to know what she’s actively not thinking about—selfishly, I hope it’s about me.

As the last sliver of the sun disappears behind the skyscrapers, I turn from the window and yank my phone from my pocket. I need something to ease the tightness in my chest. I need to do something, even if that means destruction. Swiping angrily over to my call log, I press Ghost’s contact and bring the phone to my ear. Like always, it rings once before he picks up.

“How was last night? Did her date put up much of a fight?” The disembodied voice chuckles like it already knows the answer.

Fucking prick.

When I don’t answer right away, he snickers. “It’s good to know you’re still as impulsive as you’ve always been, friend.”

“We’re not friends,” I growl.

“Oh, sure. Whatever helps you sleep at night.”

My jaw spasms. I didn’t call to chitchat. “What did you find out about her co-workers?”

A pause. “Your last payment bounced, Hellfyre.”

And this coming from the guy talking about friendship not two seconds ago. I roll my eye so hard I see stars. “I thought we were friends.”

“I was testing you.” He laughs, and I want nothing more than to squeeze the life from his neck. “You failed, naturally.”

Motherfucker. Everything’s about his bottom line. My knuckles are bleached from their grip on the steering wheel. “I’ll get you your money. Just tell me what you found out.”

“How much do you want to know?”

I want to strangle him. “All of it.” You fuck.

He sucks his teeth. “That’s gonna cost extra. There’s some juicy stuff here.”

“Fine,” I growl. “What do you know?”

He cackles, and I listen to him snort something in the background. Fucking druggie. “I love it when you talk dirty to me, Hellfyre.”

I roll my eye, my steps quickening down the crumbling sidewalk. “Talk, sicko.”

“Not without my payment, Re—”

“Don’t you dare,” I hiss, my grip tightening at the mention of my birth name. Not unless you want to lose your fucking tongue. I’ll find you, motherfucker. I’ll find you and kill you.

“You’re no fun,” he whines, followed by another faint snort. “Fine. I’ll tell you one thing, and one thing only. When I get my money, you get the rest.” I wait, listening to him suck a line the size of Nebraska. “How much do you know about the inner workings of Moriton Memorial?”

If I knew anything, I wouldn’t be paying your crazy ass. “Not much.”

He scoffs. “Well, you should. The Serpents are running a tight little operation out of your beloved’s place of employment. I’m surprised you didn’t know. After all, you two are rivals.” He clicks his tongue. “Such a silly little practice.”

Prick. “Is Lillith in danger?” I ask, my heart already picking up speed.

“So it seems,” he murmurs. “It’s a good thing you’re not the only one looking after your Lillith.”

“What the fuck does that mean?” I snarl. Is someone else watching her? If he’s been keeping that bit of information to himself, I’ll wring his scrawny fucking—

“Before you go all murderous on me, I don’t know who for certain. What I do know is there was an order to administer a little… heart-stopping agent when she passed out today. That obviously didn’t happen, so…”

“Who?” I ask, my voice terrifying even to my own ears. “Who was going to administer it?”

“Sandra Payne.” He sighs, sounding bored by my line of questioning. “Head nurse of trauma. She’s been siphoning drugs from her patients and underlings and distributing them to the Serpents. Pretty nifty, if I do say so myself.”

“Why? Why do they want to hurt her?”

“Is that really what you want to waste your question on?”

“You’ve been pretty forthcoming so far.”

“Yes, but now I’m getting bored.” A yawn sounds through the speakers, mocking me. “You’re a smart boy. You can figure out the why, yourself. Now, if you wanted to ask me where Ms. Payne has been storing her drugs—you know, so you can pay me—well, that might be a slightly better question. But that’s just my humble opinion.”

I sigh, pinching the bridge of my nose so tight I see stars. “Where are they?”

“In a storage locker on 50th. Bless her heart, the poor thing even put it under a fake name. I love how stupid people are sometimes. Like, why bother if it’s going to show up on your payment records with everything else?” He chuckles, the static distorting it and making the laughter sound creepier than it should. If I was a weaker man, I might have shuddered.

“Ping me the info. I’m heading there now,” I bark, homing in on my bike lurking in the alleyway across the street.

“Sure thing,” he coos. “Oh, and Kain?”

“What?” I ask, swinging my leg over the bike.

“Make sure you get me the money by tomorrow night. You won’t like what happens if it’s late.”

I rev the engine. “Are you trying to threaten me, Ghost?”

“No.” A maniac cackle springs through the speakers. “Just reminding you that I know where to find Lillith, too.”

He ends the call, and I see red. I knew involving him would turn out to be a mistake. I fucking knew it. Blood boiling, I kick off the pavement and speed in the general direction of 50th Street. I’ll get the fucker his money, all right.

And Sandra Payne dies. Tonight.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

LILLITH

My alarm, not a nightmare, wakes me for the first time all week. A groan tumbles from my throat, and I rub my sleep-crusted eyes as I sit up in bed. The early morning light streams through my open window, casting an orange hue over the freshly waxed floorboards. A pang emanates from my lower back, and I groan as I stretch out the muscles, stiff from hours of tireless scrubbing last night.

As exhausted as I am this morning, I’m proud I went the whole night without thinking about—nope, not going there.

I throw my legs over the bed and pad to the window, my brows narrowing at my sill devoid of my feathered friend. I suppose I slept through his tapping this morning.

My chest pangs with guilt, and I make a mental note to leave out a handful of seed tonight before I go to sleep on the off chance that I get a full night’s rest.

With only an hour before I need to leave for work, I quickly remove my locket and step into the bathroom, hastening through my usual morning routine. I step out of the shower ten minutes later, sufficiently waterlogged and ready to face the day ahead.

I wrap my sopping-wet hair in a towel and turn to leave when a slamming door makes its way to my ears. I frown, pausing mid-step as a dry female voice blares through my TV speakers. That’s fucking odd. I didn’t turn the news on before I took my shower, did I?

I shake off the paranoia creeping up the back of my neck. I was half asleep when I went into the bathroom. I must have turned it on and forgotten about it. And also imagined the slam of my front door…

Not at all convinced with my paper-thin reasoning, I walk into the bedroom and stand in front of the TV, listening as the pretty blond woman prattles off the morning news report.

Madeline’s parents inform us that she was last seen Monday night. Police have asked that anyone who has information on her whereabouts contact the…

I turn from the TV with a sigh, letting the newscaster’s voice fade to the background as I search the mattress for my locket. I rummage through the sheets, my heart beating faster the longer I go without the sensation of the cool metal between my fingertips. Where the hell is it? Lockets can’t just grow legs and run off, so why isn’t it here? I’m in the middle of ripping the sheet from the bed when the voice from the TV stops me in my tracks.

Police found the head nurse this morning, dead from an X overdose…

A thick sweat breaks out across my skin as I slowly turn to face the screen. The image flips to a picture of a young Sandra, the same mousy curls framing her smiling face as she stands arm in arm with a man in matching blue scrubs. His face has been blurred to protect his identity, but even so, I recognize it to be the stature of one of the surgeons I’ve worked with at the hospital.

Sandra Payne worked at Moriton Memorial Hospital for nearly twenty-five years as an esteemed caretaker, loved by patients and co-workers alike. The hospital’s director has given a statement. “No one suspected Sandra of her addiction, and it comes as a shock to all.”

My stomach flips, threatening to expel its meager contents. The ringing in my ears ceases just long enough for me to tune back into the TV, though it appears Sandra’s demise is already old news.

Now, we take you to our next story—Puppies! Do they really lower your risk of cancer? We have canine expert, John Launder, here to talk to us about it…

The missing locket is the farthest thing from my mind as I straighten from the bed in a trance. I turn the TV off, then step into the bathroom, determined not to let this news ruin my morning.

I never would have thought Sandra was a drug user. It doesn’t seem right. A heroin addiction isn’t easy to hide, and she never once gave signs of having one. The voice in the back of my mind screams that it was him who did this—him who took her life and made it seem like an overdose—though I haven’t a clue as to why. My mind reeling, I pull on a baggy pair of sweats and one of my old band tees, trying to focus on getting dressed so my mind doesn’t break. It’s all too much to think about.

Shoving my feet into my worn-out clogs, I rush out the door, my thoughts a conglomeration of fuckedupness. I shake my head as I stomp down the stairs, trying to push them from my mind. I just have to keep my shit together for a few hours. It shouldn’t be that tough, right?

My heart stops as I take in the group of police officers standing in a semicircle at the far end of the hospital lobby. A terrified-looking older woman in scrubs stands at the center, wringing her hands nervously as one of the men scribbles furiously on his notepad. Her mouth is moving with words I can’t make out over the ringing in my ears, but I suspect it has something to do with Sandra. They’ll want to know if she was getting her supply from the hospital. It would make the most sense. Why get it off the street if you work someplace with the purest stuff?

I stand frozen in the middle of the room, suddenly overcome with the inexplicable aura of being watched. The hair on the back of my neck pricks, alerting me to some great unobservable threat. I whip my head around the space, trying to find the source of my unease. My paranoia has only become stronger since the news of Sandra’s demise, and no matter how hard I try, I can’t seem to shake the gut feeling that I’m in danger.

“Lilly! What’s wrong?”

My eyes shoot toward Drew’s frame, sprinting full tilt at me. His messy brown locks whirl around his face with the speed of his movements, adding another layer of innocence to his boyish features.

“Drew,” I whisper, giving him a tiny smile despite the storm brewing in my mind. I’ve never been more grateful to see his kind expression, even if I don’t know what he’s doing on the recovery floor. Or why he always seems to appear at the worst possible moments.

“You don’t look so good, Lilly,” he mutters, crouching in front of me as he takes in my face carefully. “Do you feel faint?”

“I’m fine,” I whisper, too weak to pull my wrist away as he moves to check my pulse. “I just got a little dizzy. No big deal.”

“It is a big deal,” he grumbles, shooting me an irritated look. “Do you want to pass out again? I’m taking you back down to the infirmary.”

“No, please—” A yelp tears from my throat as Drew grips my arm, hauling me roughly to my feet. “You’re overreacting. Let go of me!” I order, stumbling after him as he hauls me in the direction of the elevator. “Drew, you’re hurting me!”

He stops short, causing me to stumble face-first into his muscular back. Before I have time to balance, he whips around, taking my shoulders in a firm grip.

“I’m so sorry, Lillly,” he whispers, his voice cracking like he’s seconds away from breaking down. “Are you okay? God, I’m such a fucking moron.”

“It’s… fine,” I mutter, wondering what in the hell caused his change in temperament. “As long as you promise you won’t make me go to the infirmary.”

His grip tightens on my arms as a shadow crosses his face. “Only if you can convince me that you’re really not sick. Then I’ll consider it.”

I let out a huff, knowing by his stony expression that I would have to give him something if I wanted to get out of this situation.

“Look, I’m just stressed out. Last night was the first time I got some sleep all week. I’m tired and stressed, but that’s it.”

Drew eyes me dubiously, still not letting up on his hold. “Why haven’t you been sleeping? And where’s your necklace?”

“My—necklace?” I frown. “It got lost in my sheets this morning, and I didn’t have time to find it. Why?”

Drew waves me off, his brows pulled together. “Never mind, I don’t know why I was asking. What really matters is why you’re not sleeping.” He pins me with a sharp gaze, and I know he won’t let this one go.

“I don’t know. A million different reasons.” I sigh, my mind wandering to the earlier look on Sam’s face. “Mostly because the area I live in is super creepy.”

Drew blinks several times, seeming surprised by my answer. “That’s it? Really?”

“What do you mean ‘that’s it’? Are you trying to say I’m overreacting?” I huff.

“No, not at all!” Drew finally releases his hold, dropping his palms back down to his side with a chuckle. “It just so happens that I have the perfect solution to your problem.”

“And what’s that?” I ask, eyeing him with slight suspicion.

“I’ll come over tonight and keep you safe.” He grins, puffing out his chest with the confidence of a man who just made an offer I can’t refuse. “We’ll rent a movie, pop some corn, order a pizza, and just relax. It’ll be awesome.”

“I don’t know…” I mull over his proposal. It’s not like last time, not like he’s demanding anything of me. Plus, I could use a friend after everything that’s been happening.

“Come on. Don’t you want a big, strong man to come over and protect you?” he asks, a cheeky smirk lighting up his features. “What’s the worst that could happen? You fall asleep on my lap and get the best night’s rest of your life?”

I look up into his hazel irises, bright and hopeful with the opportunity to spend an afternoon with me. Drew is one of my closest friends here, and I trust him implicitly not to pull something creepy if I do invite him over. Plus, I really would like to get some sleep. If having Drew around can help me achieve that, then who am I to reject his offer?

“Sounds good to me,” I say, my lips tipping in a small smile as his face lights up like a kid on Christmas morning.

“Awesome.” He grins, brushing his bangs back from his face. “I’ll go home after I get off and grab the popcorn. I should be able to get there by, I don’t know, eight thirty?”

“Sure.” I grin, watching his back as he steps over to the elevator. The doors slide open, and he steps inside, turning to give me a little wave.

“See you tonight!” he calls right before the doors slam shut. It occurs to me that he never asked for my address, but I shrug it off. He was probably just so excited that he forgot, and I could always text it to him later.

I turn away from the steel doors with a sigh, realizing I still have a whole list of patients to get through before I even think about relaxing tonight. I just hope inviting Drew over doesn’t turn out to be a mistake.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

KAIN

The pea-sized tracker pops out of Lillith’s locket into the palm of my hand. I place the metal device between my molars and grind it to dust, spitting the remnants onto the pavement below. My chest tightens as I push the two gold hearts together and pocket the necklace. Who the actual fuck is tracking her? Ghost is supposed to be on top of things like this. Otherwise, what the fuck am I paying him for?

My phone buzzes in my pocket, and I want to scream. If this is John, I swear to fucking God… I frown down at the number lighting up my screen. Speak of the devil.

I pull the device up to my ear. “Ghost.”

“Kain,” he deadpans. “I don’t have long. How much do you know about her friend Drew?”

My fingers tighten around the phone. The timing of this call is way too fucking auspicious. “Not much. Why?”

“You’re going to want to see for yourself.”

“Ghost, just tell—”

“I sent his address to your phone,” he deadpans, then ends the call.

I choke down the roar that wants to rip free. What did he do?

My knuckles are white from my grip on the handlebars, the texture pressing painfully into my calloused palms as I speed in the direction of Drew’s apartment. I weave through traffic like a maniac, barely registering the cars swerving around me and blaring their horns.

I’m out of my fucking mind—I know I am. But nothing in this world can calm me down. I have a list of other problems I should be handling right now, but that call from Ghost changed everything.

A growl rumbles low in my chest. “Motherfucker!” I roar, my voice carried away by the wind rushing around me. I can’t just kill him now. Every aspect of this needs to be thought out, planned, and executed perfectly if I want to eliminate my chances of getting caught. I can’t risk the club. Although…

An image of Lillith runs through my mind, her delicate little neck arched back in a moan while that dull-eyed fuck slides his cock inside her. Just the thought of it sends me into a blind rage, and I begin to doubt the strength of my willpower.

No. I can’t lose control. I won’t let myself.

The promise rings hollow in my mind as I round the corner, but it doesn’t deter me. I pull into the shadows of the alleyway between apartment buildings and hop off my bike. I walk through the front doors and over to the stairwell, making sure to keep my movements slow and calculated as I ascend the three flights to Drew’s floor.

The building he lives in is better than Lillith’s shit sty, but that doesn’t make picking the lock on his door any harder. As soon as it clicks, I shove through and into the foyer of his apartment, closing the door softly behind me as I take a look around. A faded brown couch stands in the middle of his living space with the only other piece of furniture being a small TV leaning against the opposite wall. The carpet is littered with crumbs, mysterious dark stains, and reeks of cat piss.

I look around the place in disgust, my stomach roiling with the thought that such a revolting man breathed the same air as my flower. With a snarl of contempt, I storm over to the closed door I assume is the bedroom, nearly tearing the handle clean from the wood as I jerk it open.

The fuck? I look around the room, trying to make sense of what I’m seeing. Dozens of pictures line the two large whiteboards in the corner of the room, each of which depicts a different young woman. A large stack of manila envelopes lay in disarray on the nightstand to the side of the bed, piquing my interest far more than the half-blurred portraits.

I grab the top-most file, rip it open, and pull it closer to my good eye to inspect further. A blurred Polaroid is paperclipped to the uppermost corner, featuring a smiling blond woman. The rest of the page is filled with handwritten information, each line allocated to a different aspect of her life. Out of curiosity, I grab a different one from the bottom of the stack and flip it open. My eye immediately shifts to the bottom of the page where the words “FULFILLED” are stamped in bold red letters. My stomach roiling, I throw the offensive folder to the ground, knowing all too well what that means. What I don’t know is who the fuck he’s working for… though I have my suspicions.

I’m about to turn away from the pile when I notice a particularly thick folder near the top, bursting to the seams with the amount of content forced inside. Out of curiosity, I yank it open, causing dozens of photos to fly. I pick one off the ground and pull it up to my eye, the sight causing my chest to constrict with some unknown emotion as I stare at the young woman in baggy blue scrubs.

Lillith.

Crushing the photo in my palms, I squeeze my eye shut tight, my chest heaving with the effort to keep from tearing the place to the ground. That fucker. He’s the one who put the tracker in her locket. He’s been following her, just like me. And from the looks of it, he’s taken a personal interest in the raven-haired beauty. I can’t believe I didn’t think to investigate the fuck. If I’d been thinking clearly, I never would have been blindsided by something like this. I assumed he was just another one of her dopey friends, always following her around like a lost puppy. Harmless.

A roar rips its way from my throat as I force my fist into the drywall, tearing a large hole through the thin plaster. Fuck everything I thought before. Fuck the plan, fuck the repercussions. He’s going to pay for this.

A few hours later, the lock on Drew’s door clicks open, alerting me to his arrival. I step back into the shadows behind the door, every muscle in my body taut and ready to fire at any given moment. Drew steps into the apartment a moment later, whistling as he slams the door closed behind him and all but skips toward the bedroom.

Stupid fuck doesn’t even realize I’m here. My fist clenches as I watch him disappear behind the bedroom door. I step out of the shadows, stalking slowly over to the door, and throw it open, unable to wait a second longer. Drew looks up from where he’s crouched on the floor, cradling the ashen remains of all his hard work to his chest.

“What the fu—” His eyes go wide as I close the distance between us, cutting off his question with a right hook to the temple. Smoldering fragments fly from his arms as his body slumps to the right, hitting the floorboards with a soft thunk. The single hit is enough to knock him out cold, but it doesn’t slow me down.

Weaving my fingers into his hair, I drag his limp frame to the middle of the room, then let go, smiling cruelly as his head hits the ground with a sick thud. Straddling his chest, I grab the dagger from the back of my pocket and slide its edge across his throat, watching little beads of crimson pool along the thin red line like a string of pearls.

Wake up, you fucker. I twist the knife so its edge presses into the base of his jaw. When he doesn’t stir, I force the blade upward, a sickening squelch accompanying the knife as it pierces through several layers of flesh and muscle. I stop only when I feel the resistance at the roof of his mouth. Ironically, it’s the same moment he decides to come to.

Drew’s eyes go wide as he tries to scream but only manages a pitiful garble due to the blade pinning his tongue to the roof of his mouth.

I twist the blade to draw another muddled scream from his lips. You deserve this, fucking rodent.

Looking down, I notice a wet spot growing around his crotch. I let out a disgusted sound as I stand, making sure to leave the blade safely lodged in his gullet. Stalking over to the bed, I palm the only picture I saved from his collection, running my thumb gingerly over the portrait as I admire it for a moment.

Lillith’s perfect white smile stares back at me, the tip of her nose covered in a dollop of whipped cream from the ice cream sundae in her hands. Her raven-black hair is tied back in a messy bun like usual, but the expression on her face is one I’ve never seen, and ultimately what stopped me from destroying it like the others. She looks happy.

I fight the urge to tear it to shreds, forcing my feet back in the direction of Drew, still lying helpless on the floor with blood pooling around the wound in his mouth. Crouching down by his head, I shove the photo in front of his eyes.

“Why do you have these?” I demand, letting him hear my voice for the first time. “Who are you working for?”

Drew shakes his head vehemently, his mouth partially stuck open, showcasing the slim piece of steel keeping him from speaking. I roll my eyes as I reach down, yanking the blade back out by the hilt. A wave of blood pours from the gash, and his eyes roll back as he threatens to lose consciousness again. Oh no, you don’t, fucker.

Gripping him by the scalp, I haul him into the bathroom and throw him in the corner by the toilet. A malicious grin carves its way across my mouth as I pull him up and shove his face inside the toilet bowl. His instincts kick in, and he flails, trying desperately to get his head out of the water. I hold firm on the back of his skull, not caring about the countless amounts of DNA he spews across the pure white tiles. The only thing that matters right now is that he suffers.

His body goes slack, and I regretfully have to pull his head from the water. I can’t kill him yet. Not when I still need something from him. He slumps to the tile in an exhausted heap, weakly coughing up the toilet water that filled his lungs a moment before. Blood pools from his mouth, mixing with the water and covering his white tee with a lovely shade of crimson. Crouching down by his head, I reach a hand out and flick his nose, smiling cruelly as his eyes widen in terror.

“You ready to talk, maggot? Or do you need another dip to convince you?”

His eyes shoot to the porcelain bowl in question, and he shakes his head.

Good. Good. I fist his sopping hair between my fingers and use it as leverage to haul his body upright. A weak moan of pain escapes his lips, but apart from that, he doesn’t protest. Even better.

I’ve seen his records, so I know he doesn’t have the resources to pull off that surveillance alone. “Who are you taking orders from?”

At this point, Drew’s mouth is so swollen that he can’t speak. With eyes full of fear, he reaches a bloodied hand up to the wall, his finger shaking as he draws out the letter S. Or rather, a snake.

The Serpents.

I glare down at the pathetic excuse of a human. “How long have you been feeding girls to the Serpents?”

He shakes his head, holding up four quaking fingers. With a growl, I lunge forward, grabbing his digits and forcing them backward until the bones snap. A garbled cry of pain falls from his open mouth as tears pour down the man’s face, making me even more nauseous.

“How. Long?” I demand, yanking him up by the scruff of his shirt. His feet dangle helplessly in the air as I pull him up to eye level, holding his body weight easily with a single fist. In answer to my question, Drew holds up two shaking fingers with the good hand, clearly fearful he would be losing those as well.

“And Lillith? She was on your list?” My voice comes out deadly soft as I ask the question, knowing the answer but still needing him to admit it. Stupidly, he nods his head once, giving me all the leverage I need.

You dumb motherfucker. I chuckle, bringing my free hand up and hooking my thumb inside the gaping hole in his chin. He thrashes like a hooked guppy as I haul him over to the bath, his useless attempts to escape only furthering my desire to prolong his suffering.

Fucking Christ. The least you could do is die like a man. I roll my eye as he pitches headfirst into the tub. He flails around for a few minutes, trying to gain purchase on the blood-slicked edges and failing miserably. The sight is truly pathetic.

Calmly, I walk from the bathroom and grab the bloodied dagger lying on the bedroom floor. When I return to the tub with it in my hand, Drew makes one last appeal to my nature. With his hands clasped in a kind of silent prayer, he pleads with his eyes for me to spare his life, begging me to find some shred of mercy in my heart.

With ice in my veins, I step forward, shoving the blade deep into his right eye socket. His hands drop down to his chest as the life leaves his body, and I give the blade a good twist before yanking it back out. My heart pounding in my ears, I straighten and stalk into the bedroom, shoving the bloodied dagger back into my pocket. Anger rolls over me as I gaze around at the mess I made. Now that the fog is clearing, I must deal with the repercussions of my recklessness. My fist clenches at my side as my eyes fall on the pile of ash in the corner. I’m not sorry for what I did. Not at fucking all. But it should have been done differently, in a way that didn’t guarantee I would be caught and put away for life.

Sighing, I run my hand across my mask before reaching down to grab Lillith’s photo from the floor. I run my fingertips across her pale, pretty face, imagining what it would be like to run them through her hair. How beautiful she’ll look with my hand wrapped around her delicate little neck, her skin turning blue as the life fades from those big, beautiful eyes.

A phone buzzing in the distance rips me away from my daydream, and I pocket the photo with a growl. Stomping back into the bathroom, I look around the space for the device before I realize it’s coming from Drew’s pocket. With a roll of my eye, I roll his lifeless body onto his stomach and fish the phone out of his back pocket. After wiping one of his blood-crusted digits on his shirt, I use it to unlock his device and quickly pull open the messaging app.

Lilly:

Hey, Drew-boo, it’s getting pretty late. Are you still coming?

A frown makes its way across my face as I read the message. The fucker probably had some big plans for tonight. Big plans that involved Lillith Harper. I wonder how long he waited for the opportunity to get her alone? For the perfect moment to betray all that hard-earned trust? The thought makes me wish I had drawn out his death far longer than I had, but there’s nothing to be done about it now.

I look back down at the message on Drew’s phone. I have to have her. I can’t wait a moment longer. Not when I know others are trying to get to her before me. Without a second thought, I type a message back to her.

Drew:

Sorry, got caught up with a project! I’ll be there in ten.

With a smirk, I pocket the device and storm from the apartment. The mess in there can wait.

I can’t. Not anymore.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

LILLITH

I let out a relieved sigh and push my phone back into my pocket. Pulling back the curtains, I resume my watch of the street, my eyes burning from keeping them open so long. I’m afraid that if I blink, the worst will happen, and the masked man will be there, staring up at me. All I have to do is hold it together for a few more minutes. Then Drew will be here to keep me safe, and I won’t have to constantly watch the shadows.

Something small and black streaks across the road, and I jump back from the window, my heart hammering painfully against my rib cage. A crazed little laugh pours from my mouth, and I shake my head. It was just a cat. A harmless, stray cat.

I sigh, continuing to watch the empty street with anxiety hardening my stomach. Just as I go to turn away, a man appears on the sidewalk beneath my window, his features concealed by a large black hood pulled up over his head. I pause, my eyes going wide at the sight of the silver dagger at his side, glinting in the light. The strange man pauses directly under the streetlamp, keeping his back to me while he pulls a slim white cone from his pocket.

He reaches a hand up, peeling back what looks to be a thick plastic mask from the right side of his face. With the other, he forces the palm of his hand against his jaw, cracking it to the side to release some of the tension before placing the joint between his lips. After taking a long drag, he fits the hard plastic back in place and turns his head to the side ever so slightly, allowing the light to illuminate the metallic mask covering his features.

I stumble back from the window, my ass hitting the floor with a loud thunk as the room spins around me.

It’s him. The scarred man. He came for me.

Panic claws its way up my throat as I try to regain my bearings. Okay, Lillith, calm the fuck down. It’s probably just some random creep in a mask. It wouldn’t be the first time someone sketchy loitered out on the sidewalk.

With my best attempt at breathing normally, I stand and step up to the window. I reach toward the curtain and stop, not sure what my plan is if he’s still down there. Do I call the police? Would they even send someone out at this time of night?

Steeling my shoulders, I pull the fabric back and look toward the streetlamp. He’s gone. Dropping the curtain like it burst into flames, I take a step back with a hand to my chest. Shaking my head, I let out a maniacal little laugh. It was nothing. I got all worked up for some random guy smoking a doobie.

Letting out a breath, I turn and make my way into the bathroom. Just before I step past the threshold, I stop, whipping my head to the front door. I could have sworn I heard something. I shake my head, my fingernail digging into the skin of my cuticle. You’re being crazy. It’s an old building. Sometimes it creaks.

But then I hear it again. Louder. Like someone is tampering with the lock on my front door.

Click… click… click…

The blood drains from my face as the door flies open, revealing the hooded stranger from my nightmares. Calmly, the man steps inside, ducking his head under the frame to accommodate his height. I stand frozen in terror as he locks the door behind him, fixing me with a terrifying silver eye.

Icy malice lights his gaze as he reaches up to his face, removing the metallic mask in one swift movement. The deformity is just as horrifying as the first time I laid eyes on him, and I can’t help but gasp as I take in the features that have haunted my every waking thought for the past week.

“Hello, flower,” he breathes. “I’ve been waiting so long.”

His voice pours over me like hot honey, and I stumble backward as the room spins out from under me. My eyes go wide as my back presses against the far wall, helpless to do anything but watch as he stalks closer to me.

“M-my friend is going to be here any minute! You better leave before he gets here!” I order, hoping my voice comes out braver than I feel.

He cocks his head as he pulls out a silver phone from his pocket. Even though it’s smeared with dried blood, I still recognize it as Drew’s from the tiny stethoscope sticker on the corner of the screen.

“What did you do to him?” I whisper, bile rising in my throat at the blood caked under his fingernails.

“I think you know the answer to that.”

“No,” I breathe, my sight tunneling as he takes a step closer.

“Yes,” he says. “And you should be thanking me. There are a lot of terrible men in this city, Lillith. You shouldn’t invite them to your home.”

He takes another step. “I’m going to take you now, Lillith,” he coos, his silver eye glinting with the opportunity to make good on the promise.

“Fuck you,” I hiss, looking around wildly for something to defend myself with. If he’s going to kill me, I should at least put up a fight. Maybe add another scar or two to his collection.

He watches me for a moment, his face lighting up with something akin to amusement. The fucker. He thinks this is some kind of joke. I glare up at him, my palms tightening into fists. I’ll just have to use what the good lord gave me.

Eyeing me carefully, he reaches into his back pocket and pulls out a long silver dagger. I freeze, terror swallowing all the fight I possessed a moment earlier. Oh God, this is it. This is how I’m going to die—stabbed to death in my bunny pajamas. His hand moves toward me, and I flinch backward, waiting for the searing pain of the knife entering my ribs. It never comes.

I open my eyes and see him crouched in front of me, the silver dagger glinting menacingly in his outstretched palm.

“Take it,” he murmurs. “Go on.”

Warily, I reach out toward the offering. Rolling his eye, he snatches my hand in one of his, the calloused skin like sandpaper against mine as he guides my fingers around the hilt.

“Here. Grip it like this,” he orders, flipping my wrist so the back of my hand is closest to the blade. “Never hold the blade upright. You want it down like this, see? Gives you more leverage.”

When he’s satisfied with the position, he drops my hand and stands back, spreading his arms wide out to his sides. With the increased wingspan, he looks even more formidable than before, and I wonder whether the weapon will even leave a dent.

“Well?” The scar tissue on the right side of his face tugs strangely compared to the expression on the left, and I almost wish he would put the mask back on. He was somehow less terrifying like that.

With shaking knees, I find my footing, gripping the dagger tightly at my side like he showed me. Before my resolve can weaken, I charge toward him, shoving the blade deep into the flesh on his thigh. It makes a god-awful sucking noise as it pierces the tattooed skin, and bile rises in my throat.

“Fuck, yes.” The man groans, wrapping an arm around my back before I have time to escape. With the other, he reaches down, gently wrapping around my hand still attached to the hilt of the blade in his thigh. Tightening his grip, he guides my wrist to the right, twisting the steel blade farther into his flesh.

“Oh fuck,” he moans, his eye rolling to the back of his head as blood gushes from the wound. “Just like that.”

I’m going to be sick. My vision tunnels as I try to pull my hand from the knife, wishing I had never stabbed him in the first place. Trapped in his powerful hold, I can do nothing but watch in horror as he pulls the blade from his leg, raises it up to his mouth, and runs his tongue along the steel. He grins down at me, seeming to enjoy the look of utter horror in my eyes. Lowering his arm from my back, he reaches up and grips my forearm, his hold painfully tight as he pries my fingers from the hilt with the other.

The dagger clatters to the floor, lying in the pool of blood beginning to form around the man’s right boot. He yanks me toward him, causing me to crash face-first into his broad chest as he wraps his arm around the small of my back, caging me in once more.

He grips my chin in a bloodied hand, forcing my head up at the same time that he swipes his thumb over my lip, and my eyes go wide with shock at the sensation of that warm, sticky red. Before I realize what’s happening, he crashes his mouth down onto mine. Though I should be revolted, it fills my belly with a strange kind of warmth, a twisted desire.

Instinctually, I kiss him back, letting out a little moan as he fists his fingers at the back of my hair. His lips are demanding, and my mouth fills with the taste of copper as his tongue swirls with mine, but it only fuels the fire.

“You’re so sweet, little flower,” he murmurs, nipping at my bottom lip. “I can’t wait to taste the rest of you.” His voice is like a bucket of icy-cold water poured down my back, and it snaps me back to my senses. Using his distraction to my advantage, I bring my foot down hard on the top of his arch and duck out from under his arm.

He curses as I race toward the front door, his steps ringing out close behind as he chases me. I manage to undo the lock before he grabs me from behind, ripping me away from my last chance at freedom. He hoists my body over his shoulder as easily as you would a sack of flour. I kick, scream, bite, claw, and scratch, but it doesn’t faze the behemoth of a man beneath me.

“I told you this would happen,” he growls, sounding regretful as he rams his fist into my temple. Then everything goes black.

A low groan tumbles from my lips as I wake, the intense pain in my head muddling my thoughts. Disoriented, I open my eyes and try to sit up, only to have my forehead smack into something hard a few feet above me.

“Fuck.” I hiss, squinting my eyes against the searing pain as I lie back down. I try to bring a hand up to my forehead to rub the afflicted area but freeze at the sound of chains clanking. My eyes widen as I look down, noticing my hands and ankles are shackled to a set of bars on either side of me. As far as I can tell, I’m naked, save for the thick strap wrapped around my neck. I have no way to defend myself. No way to get out of here.

As I look around at the cage in the dusk, the past few hours come crashing back to me, and I pitch my head to the side in a dry heave. It’s hard to breathe past the strap wrapped around my neck, and in a few minutes, I’m on the brink of passing out again. Dark spots line my vision the longer I hyperventilate, and I know I have to calm down before I go out again. The only way to get out of this is to remain calm. If I lose consciousness at any point, I’m dead for sure.

A triangle of golden light appears under the door as it creaks open, and I have to bite my lip to stop the scream that wants to rip from my throat. A metallic taste fills my mouth, but I barely feel the sting past the panic clouding my mind.

I have to stay still. If he thinks I’m asleep, he might leave.

His footsteps ring out like gunshots as he stalks slowly into the room. He stops at the bars by my feet, and at this point, my heart beats so hard I’m sure he can hear it. The soles of his thick leather boots are caked in mud and some other wine-colored substance. I recognize it immediately as dried blood.

My heart stops as a low chuckle makes its way to my ears, freezing the blood in my veins.

“Are you awake, flower?”

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

KAIN

Her breathing is rapid and hushed, the sound of it reminding me fondly of the snow-white bunny rabbit I owned when I was little. It, too, was one of my prized possessions, but it was taken from me too soon. Like everything else.

This time, it’ll be different. You’ll make sure she’s safe, that no one can lay their dirty fucking fingers on her. She’ll be safe. Safe, safe, safe, safe…

This time, I let the voice fill my head with nonsense, finding a sick sense of comfort in its ramblings.

“Lillith?” I coo, bending down to peer into the cage installed beneath my bed. Her perfect toned legs are spread out in a straddle, the skin on her ankles raw and angry from the steel cuffs holding her in place. The sight makes me fucking hard, and I let out a low moan as my cock surges against its confines. A little whimper pours from her mouth, sending goose bumps crawling across my skin.

She’s so adorable when she’s scared.

I palm the thick silver lock hanging on the cage door and spin the numbers, unable to help the grin that makes its way onto my face as it pops open. Six. One. Ninety-eight.

The digits of her birthday. You sick, sick, sick twisted fuck. Devious, cruel monster.

I pull the barred door open, and her little gasp makes its way to my ears. It takes everything in me not to drag her out and take her right here, right now.

Instead, I stalk over to the top of the bed and unlock the straps holding her wrists in place, then her ankles. As soon as the last lock springs open, she rolls onto her belly and wriggles out through the open cage door. She crawls toward the door on her hands and knees, clearly too desperate to think straight. I can’t help but laugh as I grip the back of her collar and haul her to her feet. Her skin glints tantalizing in the moonlight streaming through the open window, and my mouth floods with saliva. I want to fucking taste her again.

“You’re so beautiful when you’re frightened,” I purr, hauling her backward into my chest. Wrapping my arm around her throat to keep her in place, I reach my other hand up and cup her breast, grinning at the rapid pulse that greets me.

“You’re sick,” she spits, bringing her bare foot down on the top of my boot. With a groan, I pick her off the ground and toss her effortlessly onto the mattress. She lands with a soft thud, letting out another whimper at the starved look in my eye.

“Yes, I am,” I say, stalking slowly to the head of the bed. I wrap my palm around the cuff on her wrist and pull her toward me, loving the way her eyes light up.

Though I can tell by that look on your face you’re not repulsed. So the little rabbit is sick, too. Sick, twisted, fucked in the head, demented—

“Are you going to hurt me?” she whispers, her emerald irises glinting with something other than fear. Want, want, want.

I tighten the grip on her wrist. “Yes.” But only when you ask me to.

She gulps, trying to pry her hand from my grasp, but I hold firm. “Why?”

“Because,” I deadpan, pulling it to my lips and placing a delicate kiss on the swollen flesh. “You shouldn’t fight so much.” You’re hurting yourself. Please stop, I can’t fucking stand it.

“Like you give a fuck,” she growls, her green eyes shooting fire at me. “Let me go.”

“I can’t,” I murmur, giving her one last lingering kiss before letting go. I won’t.

“Please,” she pleads, her eyes wide and innocent. “I promise I won’t tell anyone. No one has to know what you did. Just… let me go.”

“You already know the answer to that, flower,” I murmur. You’re mine now. There is no letting go, not when I’ve waited so long to find you. So long to have you. To touch, to taste. To possess.

She scurries back against the headboard like a frightened animal, her eyes crazed as she folds in on herself. I cock my head to the side and watch her take shallow breaths in through her nose, wondering what’s going through that pretty little head of hers. The right side of my mouth curves up as I lean forward, bracing my palms on the side of the bed. Her eyes follow my every movement, trying to figure out what I’ll do next.

“What are you going to do to me?” she asks, her voice cracking every other syllable. I cock my head, trailing my eyes slowly over the exposed skin on her thighs.

“Everything,” I promise, my chest swelling at the way her beautiful face pales. I move to climb onto the bed when my phone buzzes in my pocket. I freeze, a frown deepening the lines on my face as I pull it out.

Call from: John “Onyx” Wallace

I groan, shoving it back into my pocket. Onyx only calls when it’s something important to do with the club. Blowing him off to play with my toy would be careless.

Careless, but so, so worth it.

With a grow of irritation, I lunge toward her, gripping her ankle in my palm and hauling her to the edge of the bed. Her limbs flail wildly in protest, and she manages to drive her heel into my rib cage. I cock my brow at her. My little flower is ferocious when she wants to be.

“Don’t fight me, Lillith,” I order, the appreciation from earlier wiped clean from my face. “Be a good girl and get back in your cage.”

“Yeah, fucking right!” she hisses, her limbs flailing uselessly against my hold. “Let go of me!”

I sigh, my eye trailing to the ceiling as I pick her off the bed. Her tiny hands curl into fists and beat against my chest as I stalk around to the foot of the bed. Gripping her wrists in a single palm, I lower her into the cage beneath my mattress. Despite her best efforts to get free, I manage to shove her into the small space with minimal effort. She screams and bangs her cuffs against the steel bars as I click the lock into place, but it doesn’t faze me. There’s no one around to hear her, after all. She can make all the noise she fucking pleases.

“You sick freak!” she snarls, shoving her shoulder against the cage walls. “You can’t just leave me in here!”

I crouch down so only the masked portion of my face is visible, and she jumps back from the door in fright. A low chuckle rumbles in my chest as I reach out, stroking my fingers lovingly over the thick steel bars. “This is your new home, little flower. I suggest you get used to it.”

My cock throbs painfully in the confines of my jeans as I straighten and turn from the bed. Her cries follow me out of the room, weakening my already paper-thin resolve. I shake my head, slamming the door closed behind me with a growl of irritation. Stupid fucking responsibilities.

Stomping to the kitchenette, I grab my leather jacket and keys off the table and rush out of the cabin. The scent of the eucalyptus slams into me as soon as I step outside, and I breathe in deep through my nose, savoring the way the forest creaks steadily around the small clearing. No one has any idea this place exists—especially not my clubmates—and I plan to keep it that way. It’s better for everyone if they don’t know exactly what I get up to in my free time.

As I mount my bike, my phone buzzes in my pocket for the second time, and I pull it up to my ear with enough force to snap it in half.

“What?” I bark, knowing full and damn well who’s on the other end.

“Amazing. You do know how phones work.”

Fucking hilarious, John. “I’m on my way to the club. I’ll talk when I get there,” I growl, ending the call before he has the chance to annoy me further. John may be the leader, but he knows not to test me when I get like this. The fact he’s calling me thousands of times like a jealous boyfriend just shows me the lack of respect he’s gained for me recently.

With a curse, I kick off the pavement and speed off down the dirt path, my blood boiling with the knowledge it’ll be hours before I’m back. Patience is not my strong suit.

Nor is it the devil’s.

I cross my arms over my chest as I glare at the behemoth in front of me. John lounges lazily in his armchair, combing his hand over his thick beard with a cocked brow.

“What in the fuck crawled up your ass tonight?” he snaps, looking unimpressed.

The tip of my boot taps restlessly against the hardwood floors. “I have somewhere to be, old man.”

“Watch it, Kain,” he warns, dropping his hand from his beard and sitting up straight. “I’m still your leader.”

Yeah. You keep saying that. I roll my eyes. “Why did you call me?”

John sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration. “I was hoping you would come in here with an explanation.”

“For what?” I demand. Since when do I need to explain anything I do around here?

“You fucking took out a member of the Serpents without consulting me, that’s what for!” he roars, standing up with such force that the chair crashes to the floor behind him. “What the fuck were you thinking? Oh, that’s right, you weren’t!” he seethes, his face purpling with rage bubbling to the surface.

I groan, rubbing a hand over the left side of my face. “Who told you?”

“None of your fucking business, that’s who,” he snarls, pacing back and forth. I roll my eye, worry hardening my gut. Did Wes tell him? I can’t imagine he would, but if he didn’t tell John, then who?

As if reading my mind, John spits, “I got word from my informant, Orion, this morning. The Serpents are frantic. The man in charge of funneling girls into their operation is missing, and no one can figure out what happened to him. I could only assume it had something to do with you.”

Relief replaces the unease swirling in my gut since he brought me here. Wes kept his mouth shut. I should have known better than to doubt my best friend.

“I didn’t do shit,” I deadpan, feigning a bored expression. “I’ve been laying low per your orders, remember?”

John’s jaw clenches. “I don’t fucking believe you.”

Well, that sounds like your problem. I shrug, standing from the impossibly uncomfortable leather armchair. “Can I go now? It sounds like you have a shitstorm on your hands.”

“Sit the fuck back down!” he bellows, slamming his palm onto the desk. I cock my head, unflinching.

“Are you accusing me of something, Onyx?” I ask, my eyes darkening with my tone. We both know you can’t take me in a fight anymore. I’d hate for you to push me to do something we’d both regret.

John scoffs, but not before I catch the flash of fear in his bright blue irises. He’s scared of me. Good.

“Goodbye, John,” I say, turning to stalk from the office. His voice breaks the silence as my fist wraps around the handle.

“You can do what you want, Kain. I just ask that it’s not at the club's expense.”

My shoulders shake. “I’m the one holding it together. You should remember that sometime.” I slam the door behind me, stomping out of the club and over to my bike.

I’ve already wasted enough time away from Lillith.

PART TWO

THE BINDING

CHAPTER NINETEEN

LILLITH

I’ve screamed my voice raw. My wrists ache, and they’re bloody and bruised from the sheer amount of times I’ve banged them against the cage bars. I’ve all but accepted my fate as I lie lifeless on the floor of my captor’s bedroom. God only knows where I am. I can’t hear any traffic outside, so we must not be in the city anymore. The thought gives me no comfort, no hope that I’ll ever be able to escape.

Is anyone looking for me? Do they even realize I’m gone? Do they care?

I shake the thought away. Someone will look for me. The hospital will wonder where I’ve gone. It’s not like me to be a no-show. Give it a few days, and they’ll get suspicious.

That is, if you last that long.

I gulp, cursing the little voice in the back of my mind reminding me of my fast-approaching demise. From what little I know about kidnapping statistics, I probably have less than forty-eight hours before I wind up sawed to pieces in the Gulf. The thought brings me even less comfort.

An image of the masked man flashes in my mind, and my core pulses against my will. Something is deeply, terribly wrong with me. If the past twenty-four years weren’t enough evidence, this puts the nail in the coffin. Ever since he laid his hands on me, I’d been craving his violent touch. He terrifies me, but he also makes me feel alive. Now that I’ve had a taste of it, I want more. Need more.

Then again, I could just be suffering from a severe case of post-concussive syndrome. Can a hit to the head make you have bizarre sexual fantasies? I groan, cursing myself for not paying better attention in my psych rotation. If neurons weren’t so damn boring, I might have answers to some of these burning questions.

The door to the bedroom creaks open, and without thinking, I scurry back into the far corner of the cage. My breath quickens as the soles of his boots come into view, and I have to hold my hand over my mouth to stop a scream from tearing free. His shoes stop at the foot of the bed, and my heart stalls as a scarred hand reaches down to undo the lock.

“I can hear your heart beating, little flower.” His playful tone sends a shiver down my spine. “Be a good girl and come out of your cage.”

I curl in on myself, crushing my eyes closed and praying that I’ll wake up from this fucked-up nightmare. I don’t want to feel this way. I want to go back to when everything made sense. When my life was boring, and I didn’t have the hots for my kidnapper. I shiver. Even the thought makes me lightheaded. What the fuck is wrong with me?

“Don’t make me ask twice, Lillith.” His deep rumble makes my thighs warm, and for some reason, I want to see what happens if I refuse him. Despite everything in me screaming this is a bad idea, I force my shoulders back and snap, “Make me.”

In a blink, he throws the door open and lunges forward, grabbing my ankle in one massive palm. I try holding on to the bars above my head, but my fingers slip from the cool metal as he pulls me feet-first out of the cage.

“Why must you always disobey me?” he growls, scooping my body into his arms and straightening. I beat my fists against his chest, and he groans as I hit the spot just below his clavicle. The bullet hole.

“How’s it healing?” I ask. He looks down at me, and if I didn’t know better, I’d say he was shocked.

“Why are you asking me that?” he wonders, searching my face with that piercing silver eye. My face heats, but I don’t speak a word. Truthfully, I’m not sure what possessed me to ask. It’s not like I care what happens to him. In fact, I should be hoping for something to go wrong. If he dies from an infection, that will make it all the easier to escape.

He sighs and stomps into the bathroom when I refuse to speak. His eyes seem to scream “fine, be that way” before he shoves me roughly into the tub. I glare at him and cross my arms over my exposed breasts, feeling like a bug under a microscope beneath the fluorescent lighting.

“Get in the tub,” he orders, shoving a finger at the massive porcelain basin. “Now, Lillith.”

I shake my head firmly. His jaw clenches as he rolls his eye to the ceiling.

“Fine. Have it your way.”

I gasp as an ice-cold stream beats down on my head and shoulders. It drenches my face and hair, causing goose bumps to crawl along my exposed flesh.

“Fuck,” I hiss, trying to clamber over the side like a drowned raccoon. The masked man pushes me back in, and I flop on my back, sputtering as the water beats down on my face.

“Stay down,” he murmurs. “I need to clean you.”

“The fuck you do!” I hiss, denying the part of me that wants to feel his rough hands on my skin. “I can shower by myself. I’ve gotten pretty good at it over the years.”

I’m not sure why I try to lighten the mood, but the man doesn’t seem like he wants to laugh. Instead of speaking, he reaches over my head and palms a bar of soap. It looks brand new and has a strangely familiar floral scent, but I can’t place exactly where I know it from.

The water warms as he rubs the bar between his palms, building up a thick, soapy lather. Giving me no opportunity for protest, he slides in the tub with me and rubs his hands over my legs and feet, then between my toes.

“Hold still,” he growls, tightening his grip on my ankle.

“It tickles.”

He looks up, his dark hair slicked to his forehead from the stream pounding above us. “I don’t care.”

“That’s wildly apparent,” I grumble, my cheeks heating as he massages the lather into my calves. It feels good. Too good. Instinctually, I try to pull away, but the warning look he shoots me has me freezing dead in my tracks.

“Stop moving, Lillith. That’s an order.”

My throat bobs as he rinses his hands under the stream. Cupping the bar between his rough palms, he repeats the process, starting at the base of my collarbone. His slick fingers dance across my chest, sliding under my breast and pawing the area roughly. Without warning, he lunges forward, taking my nipple between his teeth. His tongue lashes out, drawing a whimper from my throat as he toys with the sensitive nub.

“I know just who you are, little flower,” he whispers, dragging his teeth across my nipple as he pulls back. I suck in a breath, my hips bucking forward against my will. Something akin to a chuckle rumbles in his throat as he watches my movements, and he brings a hand up to caress the area. “You’re just as sick as me, Lillith. I know it. Your body knows it. Why don’t you?”

“I’m nothing like you,” I seethe, hating the way my thighs warm at his silky voice. I know if I reach between them, I’ll find exactly what he’s talking about. I do want him, but I shouldn’t, and that’s why I can’t let myself.

“Then why didn’t you stop me?”

With a jolt, I look down and realize his hand has descended all the way to my core. His fingertips hover dangerously close to my clit, and I let out a little whimper. I don’t even think about asking him to stop as my hips shift further into his palm, my hormones destroying any sense of reason I have left.

“Such a needy little toy,” he coos, inching closer at an excruciatingly slow pace. “Do you want your master to make you feel good?”

Master? My eyes widen as he takes my nipple between his teeth and suckles. What the fuck is that supposed to make me? When I don’t answer, he presses the base of his palm into my stomach until a spark of pain brings me back to reality.

“Answer me, Lillith,” he demands, his silky voice lowered with thinly veiled rage. “Use your fucking words.”

“Y-yes. Please,” I whisper, tears pricking the corners of my eyes as he finally presses into me. His index swirls around my clit, and my core pulses with need. It feels so fucking good. Why?

“You’re such a needy little slut. So fucking wet for me,” he moans, pressing one of his fingers against my entrance. The pad swirls against my walls, drawing little moans of pleasure from my parted lips as I relax into his touch.

“That feels so good,” I groan, letting my head fall back against the cool porcelain tub. Suddenly, he freezes, and the next thing I know, he’s pulling away from me. A whimper pours from my mouth, and I search his eyes desperately.

“Patience, little flower,” he coos, placing his fingers in his mouth. His eye rolls to the back of his head as he savors my taste, and a moan pours from his mouth. “Good things come to toys who wait.”

Anger bubbles in my chest as I cross my arms, more so with myself than him. What the hell has gotten into me? I practically begged him to take me, and the worst part is that I meant every word.

“Turn around.” I jump as the deep voice sounds out, having been so lost in my demented fantasy that I forgot my kidnapper is trying to give me a bath. He raises a brow, gesturing to his palm full of shampoo. “Now, Lillith.”

With a trembling sigh, I turn my back to him. His strong hands work the shampoo into my scalp, then down to the ends of my raven tresses.

“So beautiful…” His lips connect with my shoulder, and I gasp as sparks spread from the area. “Close your eyes. I’m going to rinse you off.”

I lean back against his chest as he reaches for the handheld nozzle, letting my eyes flutter closed as he delicately rinses the soap from me.

“Is Kain your real name?” The question bubbles from my lips before I have time to stop it. My muscles tense, afraid he might lash out at my questioning.

“No.” There’s a pause like he’s battling whether to say anything more. “How did you know I go by Kain?”

“Your jacket,” I whisper, gripping my necklace tight in my palm. “At the hospital. It said Kain on the front.” I pause, debating whether I should ask my next question or not. “What is your name?”

“You just said it.”

I roll my eyes. “I meant, what’s your birth name?”

“Why do you care?”

My face heats. “Well, I don’t, but—”

“Then we’re in the same boat, little flower.” He dips down, nuzzling his face into my neck. “Kain and Lillith. The devil and his queen. It sounds delicious, doesn’t it?” His teeth sink into the side of my neck, and I let out a little whimper. “What do you think, my queen?”

“I think you’re sick,” I murmur, my body betraying my words as it leans further into his touch. “So fucking sick.”

“And you’re the one who craves this sick fuck. So who’s really the deranged one, here?” His lips brush the shell of my ear. “I bet if I were to reach my hand between those perfect thighs, I’d find exactly what I’m talking about.”

Fuck me, he’s right. I wriggle against his hold, desperate for some distance so my heart can return to a normal pace. His hands slide down and palm my breasts, and a spark of pain ignites as he pinches my nipples.

“You feel so fucking good, Lillith,” he groans, his hands leaving my breasts to explore the rest of my body. “This body is all I fucking think about. Day and night, night and day. It’s fucking painful.” His hands stop on my waist and tighten. “So hard to resist…”

Suddenly, he lets go and hops out, his sopping clothes causing a puddle to form around his feet on the tile. Without looking, he shoves a towel at me, the muscle in the side of his jaw twitching wildly.

“Dry off. I’m going to get you some clothes. Don’t try anything smart,” he growls, leaving a trail of water in his wake as he storms from the bathroom.

I cannot with all these mood swings. I roll my eyes, wrapping the towel around my body and hopping out of the tub. I wish he would stop doing things that feel so… good. It would make it a whole lot easier to hate him.

When the man—Kain—comes back, his usual controlled expression is back in place. I can’t help but notice the way his clothes cling to every deadly inch of him. Like that night in the hospital, I’m frozen by the sight of such perfection. He practically hums, his very presence enough to take all the oxygen out of the room. I don’t even mind the sight of his mask in this lighting. It might be the Stockholm syndrome talking, but right now, it makes him look even more intoxicating.

“Stop looking at me like that.”

“Or what?” The snarky comment comes out before I can stop it, and I gulp at the way Kain’s gaze darkens.

“Don’t ask questions you’re not ready for, little flower,” he growls. “What do you want for breakfast?”

“Breakfast?” Is that what time it is?

“Yes, breakfast.” He cocks his head. “I assume you eat?” The swift change of subject makes my head spin. Or it could be the smell of his shampoo wafting off his dripping black waves. I’m not really sure.

“I’m not really hungry.” I bristle, crossing my arms over my chest. At the same time, my stomach rumbles, and I glare down at the treacherous organ.

Kain’s silver eye narrows menacingly. “I’m going to make you something. Put these on and wait for me in the bedroom.”

I take the faded tee from his hands, realizing fighting him on this will have the same outcome as the bathing situation. I just have to hope he doesn’t plan to poison me.

CHAPTER TWENTY

KAIN

I storm outside, my fist clenching at my side as I make my way over to the large glass structure at the edge of the clearing. The need I have for Lillith muddles my thoughts, and for a moment, I forget why I even came out to the greenhouse.

Right. Omelet stuff.

I shake my head and shove open the door, and a blast of condensation engulfs me. I breathe in that intoxicating scent of earth and rainwater, then hasten to the row of tomato vines on the back wall.

Living as far as I do from civilization has many perks, but it’s a bitch and a half to get groceries, especially on a bike. I tried growing my own food out back of the cabin but quickly realized the soil and moisture weren’t right for the delicate food crops. Hence the greenhouse.

I pluck a juicy red tomato from the vine, something like a smile toying at my mouth. I spend so much of my life destroying things that I forget how good it feels to create. Sure, the plant grew the fruit, but I watered the soil and pollinated its buds. And now, I can use it to make a delicious breakfast for my Lillith.

I grab a handful of spinach from the herb box, then walk back to a cabin, my steps a little lighter. I don’t know what emotion bubbles in my chest, but if the books are right, then I think I’m…excited. Excited to make Lillith breakfast. I’m not sure what to make of that, but I don’t want to think about it anymore.

I force the emotion into a little box at the back of my mind as I place my ingredients on the kitchen counter. I lean on the edge of the marble, staring down at the veg blankly. What else goes in an omelet, again?

I rub a hand over my face, hoping that will clear some of my fog. This is not good. I can’t focus on shit. All my thoughts keep swirling back to the temptress in my bedroom, reminding me what I could be doing to her right now.

“Fuck,” I groan, slamming my fist down on the counter. An omelet needs eggs. Fucking dipshit. I curse, turning to the fridge and pulling out the carton. It’s infuriatingly light, and I curse myself for not picking up more when I was in the city the other day. Protein is one of the things I haven’t been able to keep, considering my lack of ability to care for an animal.

I flip open the carton and let out a sigh of relief. At least there’s enough to make Lillith one. I’ll just pick something up for me later. I work quickly to prep the veg and eggs, and in less than five minutes, a perfect fluffy omelet is on its way to the bedroom.

“Lillith?” I knock once, then burst into the bedroom. I barely have enough time to duck as a pillow is lodged at my head, and I straighten with a scowl. The fuck?

She throws another, but her aim is so off I don’t even have to dodge.

“I know what you’re trying to do, and I’m not falling for it!” she snaps, her back pressed against the headboard with a wild look in her eyes.

“I’m trying to feed you…” I roll my eye as I step toward the bed. Every time I leave her alone, she gets so fucking sassy.

“More like poison me.” Her eyes narrow on the dish in my hand. “I’ve seen enough Lifetime movies to know how this ends. You play Mr. Nice Guy to get my guard down, and then BAM! My skin is being made into a lampshade.”

I regard her expression, realizing that she’s being deadly serious. “I have zero desire to turn you into a lamp, Lillith.” I take a bite, raising my brows as I chew slowly. “See? It’s good. I grew the veggies myself.”

This doesn’t seem to be the right thing to say. Her eyes flash with alarm a moment before narrowing on me. “How stupid do you think I am? You didn’t grow shit. What’s wrong with it?”

I sigh, holding the back of a fork out to her with a stern expression. “I would never hurt you, Lillith. Eat.”

“Yet you had no qualms about knocking me unconscious last night.”

My chest squeezes with something like guilt, but I quickly force it away. “I had to.” You wouldn’t have come with me otherwise.

The look in her eyes makes my heart ache, and I’d do anything to make her stop. Doesn’t she see? I had to take her in order to protect her. I had to.

“Just fucking eat. You haven’t eaten in days,” I growl, flipping the fork around and breaking off a piece of the omelet. Once it’s secure, I push it toward her mouth, but she weaves her head anytime I get close to her lips. “God-fucking-dammit, Lillith!” I growl, losing what shred of patience I have left. “Just take a bite!”

“No.”

Without thinking, I lunge forward, straddling her waist to immobilize her as I pry her jaw open. She tries to fight it, but I’m far stronger than her, even with one arm. I push the bite of omelet in her mouth, then use my grip on her jaw to make her chew it.

“Swallow,” I order, holding her mouth closed. My eye darkens at the defiant gleam in hers, and I shake my head with a sigh. Stubborn woman. I drop the fork and use my free hand to pinch her nose close. Her beautiful emeralds go wide as saucers as her oxygen is cut off, and her legs flail against the mattress.

“Swallow, and you get it back,” I murmur, keeping my gaze locked on hers. “It’s as simple as that, Lillith. Submit.” A tear falls from the corner of her eye as her throat bobs. She looks like she wants to kill me right now, and it makes me so fucking hard. I love coaxing that fire of hers to the surface.

“Good girl,” I whisper, dropping my hands from her mouth and nose. She sucks in a deep breath, her chest rising rapidly with the intake.

“You’re a fucking monster,” she chokes, shoving weakly at my chest. “I hate you.”

“No, you don’t, flower,” I murmur, leaning down so our lips are inches apart. Not even a little bit. Her breath hitches, and as soon as her eyes flutter closed, I take her bottom lip between my teeth. A dark chuckle bubbles in my chest as she bucks her hips toward me, and I know I’m right. “Remember, Lillith. I know how twisted you really are.” She’s been craving me her whole life. Someone to force her to give up that control she holds so dear. Someone to unravel her and hold her together when it’s all over.

Her pulse increases, but she doesn’t speak. A smile carves its way onto my face as I cup her cheek. “Let me break you, Lillith.” I promise you’ll only regret it for a little while.

Her cheeks flush, and she looks away for the first time since I came into the room. Her eyes glass over with that faraway look, and disappointment cracks my chest wide open. Pushing now will only drive her further into that mind of hers, so I pull away. There’s a flash of longing in her eyes when I climb off the bed, but I know it’s not enough. She’s not ready.

“Do you want to see the greenhouse?” I ask, already moving toward the door.

“What?”

“The greenhouse. Do you want to see it?”

“I, um…” She twists the chain of her necklace around her thumb, showing how nervous I’ve really made her. Fuck.

“It’s not a trick, Lillith. If you don’t want to see it…”

“No! I want to see it.” She bounces off the bed, a gleam of hope flashing in her eyes. “I mean—please, can you show it to me?”

Alarm bells go off in my mind, but this is the first time I’ve seen something close to a look of happiness on her face. If only she was more relaxed, it would be identical to the time I saw her feeding the bird…

“Okay.” A hint of a smile tugs at my lips as I hold open the bedroom door for her. “Let’s go outside.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

LILLITH

This is it. This is my chance to escape.

I try to keep my hope suppressed as I step over to the door, my hand already encircling the handle. I turn, but it doesn’t budge.

What the fuck?

“It’s locked from the inside.”

I turn to face him and smack right into his chest. Before I have time to move away, his arm circles my waist, holding me hostage against his naked abdomen.

“I didn’t say you could go outside looking like this, Lillith,” he murmurs, holding up something in his other hand I hadn’t noticed before. A collar.

“I’m not a fucking dog,” I snarl, reeling back as he moves the device toward my neck. “No way.”

Kain just rolls his eye, stepping forward until my back is flush against the door. Using his body to pin me, he grabs my wrists in one hand and holds them above my head while the other works the leather collar around my neck.

“Hey! Stop that, you big brute!” I snap, whipping my head around to make it as difficult as possible for him. Turns out, it doesn’t slow him down in the slightest.

Kain steps back with a satisfied glint in his eye. “You look so beautiful collared, Lillith.”

I frown, crossing my arms across my chest. The movement causes the strap to shift, and it tightens around my windpipe. “I’m assuming this gives you some sick pleasure.”

He cocks his head. “Actually, no.” He turns abruptly, pulling open a drawer from one of the bedside tables and palming out a long leather strap. He attaches it by a hook on my collar, and my face heats with mortification when I realize what it is. A goddamn leash. He fucking leashed me.

“This. This gives me pleasure.” His lips tip with a cruel smirk as he tugs on the leash, causing my body to lurch forward.

“You fucking asswipe,” I snarl, reaching to the back of the collar to try to remove it. To my dismay, where there should be a buckle holding it in place, there’s some type of advanced locking mechanism.

“The only person who will be taking that off is me,” Kain coos, stepping over to the door and holding his wrist to the handle. There’s a tiny click as the mechanism unlocks, and he opens the door with ease.

What the fuck? The key is in his skin?

“Come on. Or do you not want to go outside now that your chances of escape are gone?”

The blood drains from my face as Kain raises a brow at me. “Oh. You thought I didn’t know that’s what you were trying to do. That hurts, Lillith.”

I watch the expression on his face. Was that supposed to be… a joke? I can’t tell. He certainly doesn’t seem hurt.

I sigh as a gentle tug on my neck drags me from my thoughts. “I’m coming, I’m coming.” I don’t get a chance to look around the rest of the house because Kain keeps a hand over my eyes as he leads me to the—I assume—exit. Why, I have no clue. It’s not like I can get out without his fancy wrist-chip thingy.

There’s a loud screeching sound, then a smack of pine and eucalyptus as Kain leads me outside. I breathe in deeply, just now realizing how much I missed the fresh air.

“You can open your eyes, Lillith.”

My eyes fly open, and a small gasp falls from my lips as I take in our surroundings. A circular clearing extends fifty feet from the front of the cabin’s porch, but the dense row of trees past that makes it impossible to see farther.

I glance down at the porch we’re standing on, surprise pricking my mind as I take in the rose bushes lining the structure. Dozens—no, hundreds—of pink and white blooms scatter the bushes, each one standing out like a delicate, luminous broach against the plant’s deep green leaves.

“What’s with all the flowers?” I ask, pivoting my gaze toward the brutal man at my side. The idea of him tending to a bunch of rose bushes… doesn’t seem right.

He just shrugs, his gaze never wavering from my face. “It gives me something to do. And I’ve always loved flowers…”

My throat bobs as I look out at the clearing again, Kain’s gaze heating the skin on the side of my face. Just like he promised, there’s a glass structure at the edge of the clearing, the thick layer of condensation making it impossible to see inside the greenhouse. Just like everything else here, it holds an air of mystery.

“You weren’t lying about the greenhouse,” I whisper, following Kain down the steps. It’s not like I have a choice.

“Why would I lie?”

“I don’t know… because you’re a sociopath?”

He pauses. “I’m not a sociopath.”

That makes me pause. “You’re not?”

He looks back at me, an emotion I can’t place swirling in his dark eyes. “No. I’m a psychopath.”

“And I’m guessing there’s a difference…” Though I try to stop it, a heavy dose of condescension slips into my tone.

“Sociopaths are made. I was born this way.”

“Ah.” Cryptic, much? “I’m guessing you don’t like to talk about it.”

“No.”

Ookay. “Well, thanks for clearing that up.”

“There’s also a debate on the amount of… impulse control between the two,” he says, his voice tight as he stomps in the direction of the greenhouse. This is the first time he hasn’t looked at me while he’s speaking, and I realize that he really doesn’t like talking about it.

Well, I don’t like being kidnapped and collared. Bully for him.

“I’m assuming you’re lacking in that department?”

He snaps his head back, something like offense flashing across his face. “Is that what you think?”

Well, I mean, only one of us kidnapped someone. “If it walks like a duck…”

His brow knits. “What do ducks have to do with this?”

“No, it’s a figure of speech. Like, a duck walks a certain way, so when you see something walk like a duck… you know what? Never mind.” I sigh, forcing my head straight and continuing toward the greenhouse. I only get a few feet before I’m yanked back by the pesky collar, though.

“Ow! Why the hell are you just standing there?”

“You’re a strange little thing…” he mutters, examining my furious expression with intent. “You’re not… scared of me. Are you?”

My stomach flips, then tries to come out of my mouth. “I… why are you asking me that? Of course I am. You’re a scary dude.”

“No… you’re not.” His head tips with an ever-curious expression. “I thought you were the night I took you. But that wasn’t it. You’re scared of yourself.”

“That’s preposterous.” I snort. But is it? Am I? I feel pretty damn scared when he’s around. The question becomes: is it with me, like he says?

I should have paid more attention in my psychiatry rounds.

Kain nods, like it’s decided, then pushes open the door to the greenhouse. A blast of hot air encases me, and I choke on how wet it feels.

“Come on.” He tugs on the leash, and I stumble inside. After shooting a well-deserved glare his way, I straighten and take in my surroundings. Huh. This is kind of impressive, actually.

Various colored veggies and fruits grow in rows from where we stand to the back of the structure, their metal posts straining from the weight of the ripened fruit. He’s got one of everything: squash, tomato, carrots, and berries, as far as the eye can see. And then, tucked in the far corner, is a suspicious plant with short, green leaves branching out from the center like a star.

“Is that… the devil’s lettuce?” I turn to him, wide-eyed. A deep eleven forms between Kain’s brows as he looks toward the marijuana plant.

“The what?”

“The devil’s lettuce!” I throw my hands up in exasperation. “You know, Mary Jane, grass, pot… any of these ringing a bell? I’m asking if you’re growing a weed plant.”

Kain’s face twitches like he’s holding back a smile. “I didn’t know you were so passionate about it. And yes, though anyone with eyes can see that.”

I huff, turning toward a row of bright red tomatoes, fully aware my face is slowly turning the same color. “I’m not sure why I’m trying to make conversation.”

“I appreciate it. Especially…what did you call it? The devil’s spinach?”

Against my wishes, a giggle bubbles from my mouth. “Lettuce. But close enough.”

“Ah.” His dark gaze holds mine, and electricity crackles between us. My pulse races as I fight the pull of his energy, beckoning me to give in to my deepest desires.

Kain reaches a hand toward my face, and though I know I should back away, I lean into his touch. A calloused thumb brushes my cheek, and I go limp, letting his massive palm hold the weight of my head.

“I like making you smile,” he murmurs, his thumb sweeping over my bottom lip. “I wish I could do it more often.”

“I’m sor—”

“No.” He cuts me off, his gaze hardening. “Do not apologize. I won’t hear it.” He leans in, his lips brushing mine like a whisper. “It’s my job to make you happy.”

“Why?” I whisper, fighting the urge to lean in to the kiss.

He pulls away, and I suck in a breath of relief. If he kept that position, I don’t know how long I would be able to fi—

“Because you belong to me. I take pride in making my toys happy.”

Indignation hardens my gut, and it feels like someone dumped a bucket of water over my head. What the hell am I doing? I should be plotting my escape, not playing house with my kidnapper. I should push him away, then deliver a swift kick to his nethers.

Even as the thought passes my mind, I know I won’t do it. Not with the way he’s looking at me. Like that’s exactly how he expects me to react, and he’s already picking out the punishment.

I need to stop this and switch it around. Make him just as uneasy as he did to me.

“What did you do with Drew’s body?”

Kain’s composure slips for a moment, and then that iron-clad wall is back in place, telling me I better tread carefully.

“Why are you asking me that?”

I shrug, trying to keep my face just as cool as his. “He was my friend before you murdered him in cold blood. Of course I want to know what happened to him.”

Kain’s face twists with rage, and for a moment, I think I’ve gone too far.

“He wasn’t your fucking friend, Lillith. He was trying to sell you. I protected you from a threat you couldn’t—or wouldn’t—see. I did what needed to be done.” He pins me with a hardened gaze. “I had my associate burn his remains and throw them in the ocean. Since you wanted to know so badly.”

I’m going to be fucking sick.

“You’re not lying… are you?” I shudder when an image of Drew trying to hit that pigeon assaults my memory. Was it there all along? Showing up wherever I was, constantly trying to get me alone outside of work… It never occurred to me that his intentions were malicious. I shudder to think about what would have happened if he had come over that night as planned.

“Of course not. I have no reason to lie to you, Lillith. My sole purpose this entire time has been to protect you. Lying would only serve to harm you.” Kain tilts his head like he’s trying to understand me. “Do you have any other questions?”

“I do.” I pause, wondering if it’s worth it to ask. It’s been gnawing at me since the day he left that creepy-ass bag of worms in my apartment. “Why me? Why the hell do you want me?”

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

KAIN

How can she even ask that? Why her? She’s fucking everything. So sweet, brilliant, wonderful, effervescent. She’s everything I’m not, and then some.

And she has the gall to ask me why?

I tilt my head, regarding the strange, beautiful creature standing before me. “The question you should be asking is why wouldn’t I want you.”

She huffs, crossing her arms over her breasts. I can’t help from dropping my gaze, and a shiver of satisfaction runs through me as her face reddens. “I have eyes, you know.”

“Yes. They’re the most magnificent pair I’ve ever seen,” I murmur, taking a step closer. The rise and fall of her chest picks up speed, and the corner of my lip tugs upward. “You look surprised, Lillith. Has no one said these things to you before?”

“If they had, I probably would have put my foot between their nethers.”

I shake my head, positive my chest will burst with that strange emotion I only experience in her presence. “I should probably stay out of kicking distance, then.” Even still, I take another step toward her. From this distance, I can smell the flowered soap wafting from her porcelain skin, and it’s driving me fucking mad.

Her eyes widen as I lean down, our lips inches from brushing. I can practically taste her on my tongue, but I keep my distance, willing her to close the last few inches between us.

“Your heart is beating pretty fast, Lillith,” I murmur, a grin tipping my mouth as her breath catches. She’s so close, so close to giving in. If only she would just…

Her fingers touch the edge of my mask, and before I can stop her, she pries the metal contraption away, revealing the horror that is my face. She presses up on her toes, and in a blink, her lips press against the side of my face—the scarred side. A lightning bolt shoots straight to the marrow of my bones, and I leap back from her. My expression must be crazed because she holds her hands up, taking a step away from me like I’m some rabid grizzly bear.

“I-I’m sorry,” she whispers, her brows narrowed in worry. “I didn’t mean to…”

I shake my head. “Don’t. It’s me. I shouldn’t have…” I shouldn’t have let you get so close. A huff of air passes my lips, and I run a hand over my ragged skin. “I need some air.”

Before she has time to stop me, I shove open the door to the greenhouse and step outside, taking in lungfuls of the crisp air. It was one thing for her to touch my face, but for her lips to touch such a disgusting… I can’t finish the thought. It’s been so long since I thought about my appearance and so many years since I considered letting anyone close enough to see me, let alone touch me.

The worst part is that… is that it felt good. I didn’t want her to stop. I wanted her to trail her beautiful lips all across the marred, aching flesh. I cup the side of my face, my shoulders drooping. I should’ve taken my fucking mask back.

“Kain?” The tinkling voice constricts my chest, and though I want to, I can’t look at her. Not without my face. Not without the thing that allows her to stomach me.

I jerk when something cold presses against the palm of my hand. My mask. She brought me my mask.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to… hurt you.” She says the word like she’s not quite sure if I’m capable of the emotion. I wish she’d take the dagger at my waist and ram it through my useless heart instead.

“It’s not your fault, flower. I’m… it’s been a while since someone touched me.” I can’t say anything else, afraid I might ask her to do it again. She stands at my side while I fit the mask onto my face, and my skin warms where her gaze rests on my profile.

“Does it hurt? The mask, I mean.” She sounds hesitant. I made her reluctant.

I have to fix this. “It does. But it adds to my mystique, so I think it’s worth it.”

A smile tips her pretty pink lips. “Are you trying to make a joke?”

I don’t know. Would you laugh if I was? “Maybe.”

She throws her head back, and the most joyous sound I’ve ever heard echoes in the clearing. Like sunlight shining down on a field of blooming magnolia trees.

“You’re a strange cookie. Anyone ever told you that?”

First, it’s ducks, then the lettuce thing, now cookies? “You have a lot of sayings.”

“I’m going to assume that’s a no.”

I cock my head, considering her earlier question. “People don’t say much to me.”

“I wonder why that is.” Her lips tilt with that gorgeous little smile. “So is this what you do for fun? Household chores?”

My brows furrow. “Fun?”

She smacks her forehead. “I guess I shouldn’t be surprised. Fine, do you do anything that’s not work?”

I take a moment to think. She’s trying to make conversation, and that should make me feel better. I just wish her questions were catered to anything other than me. “Sometimes I go to a lake nearby. It’s nice. Peaceful.”

“Now we’re getting somewhere.” Her teeth flash in a genuine smile, and my heart stutters. You’re so beautiful, Lillith. I don’t know why the gods blessed the earth with you, but they should be thanked.

“Do you want to see it?” The question falls from my lips before I have time to think better of it. I don’t regret it, though, not when it makes her eyes light like that.

“Only if you want to show me.” She’s hesitant, and I’m sure it has to do with my earlier reaction. “How far is it?”

I palm the leash dangling loosely from her neck, running my thumb over the thick leather strap. “We’ll take my bike. It’ll be faster that way. Come on.” I give the leash a gentle tug, only this time, she doesn’t protest when I lead her toward my bike.

“Holy shit. This is beautiful.” Her words are hushed as she gazes out at the expanse of the lake, taking in the towering cypress and cattails lining the perimeter of the oasis. Her reaction is wholly different from the first time I saw this place, and—not for the first time—I wish I could see the world through her eyes. How beautiful, how colorful it must be.

It is a marvel, I suppose, that such a magnificent display of nature resides here, not fifty miles from the city. I just was never able to see it as anything other than a hole filled with water.

“Can you swim in it?”

Her quiet voice makes me jerk, and I force my eyes away from her profile, not having realized I was openly staring at her. Shit, what did she just ask me?

“I suppose you could,” I muse, looking out at the crystal-clear water. “I never have, though.” I never had a reason to. Not until you.

“Can we?” she asks, her eyes bright.

I could never deny you anything that makes you smile like that.

“Yes,” I say, gripping the hem of my shirt and pulling it over my head in one swift movement. My skin is hot where her eyes roam, and I don’t need to look at her to know she’s taking in all the scars and the swirls of ink that fail to conceal them.

“You’re staring again.” I raise a brow at her, and her cheeks turn pink. You’re so fucking cute, it hurts. “You coming?”

Without waiting, I turn and stalk toward the edge of the lake, listening as her steps hurry after me. I don’t have to worry about her running off—we’re deep in the forest, and there’s no way she’d be able to find her way back to the road, not if she tried for a month.

I rip my shorts off, tossing them on the bank before wading into the water. When I’m waist deep, I turn to face her and am surprised to see her still clothed.

“You don’t want to swim anymore?” I ask.

“It’s not that… I, um… don’t have a swimsuit.”

I can’t help but roll my eye. “Lillith, I’ve already seen your body.” And does thinking about it drive me mad. “Just get in here. Before I throw you in.” The lilt of my tone is teasing, but she still swallows hard before removing her top with shaking fingers.

I’m about to tell her I was just teasing—worried she mistook me—when she charges forward, leaps into the air, and cannonballs right next to me. A mighty splash covers my face and hair, and I have to spit out some of the lake water that got up my nose.

When she surfaces, she’s sporting a mischievous smile. I know what’s about to happen, and I have no intention of stopping it. Her arm rears back, and with a battle cry, she sweeps her arm forward, drenching me in another mighty swell of water.

I shake my head, spraying droplets of water in her direction, and she cries out in protest. My lips tip upward as I take in her expression, and before I have time to say anything, she lunges forward, putting her full weight on my head and shoulder. I let her dunk me under the water, knowing that’s what she wishes to do, and when I surface, she’s practically glowing.

“Got you!” She cackles, pushing off me and putting a few feet of space between us.

Yes, my goddess, you do. “Careful,” I murmur, wading closer to her. “I might want to return the favor.”

She squeals as I lunge for her, trying to swim backward, but she’s nowhere near as fast as me. I circle my arms around her shoulders, pulling her into my chest as laughter peels from her open mouth.

“D-Don’t you dare!” she cries, tipping her chin up as I slowly pull us both below the surface. “Kain! Don’t—”

The rest of her protest gets cut off by the water, and when I bring us back up a moment later, she gives me a mighty, albeit teasing, glare. “You suck.”

“So you’ve said.” I push her sopping hair back off her forehead, my heart threatening to break my rib cage. Do you want to kiss me as much as I want to kiss you?

Her lips part, and it takes every ounce of control I have not to take her right here in the middle of the lake. Please, put me out of my fucking misery.

Whether she’s aware of it or not, her face inches closer to mine. I can practically taste her, can feel her mouth parting for me, begging to be claimed.

“Kain…” she whispers, her eyes fluttering closed. “Kain, I’m… scared.”

So am I, flower. So am I.

“I know.” I rest my forehead against hers but don’t lean in for a kiss. Not yet. Not until she’s ready.

Her breath hitches, and she finally, finally, finally presses her lips to mine. I thought the stolen kiss from the first night was earth-ending, but now I know I was wrong. So wrong.

My tongue teases her lower lip, and she parts for me with a moan. The sound lights my veins with fire, and a growl tumbles from my mouth as I take her lip between my teeth.

A hiss. Another moan. I break.

“Fuck, Lillith,” I groan, grinding my hips against her core. I’m so fucking hard, and I know she can tell by the little gasp that pours from her mouth. Her nails dig into my shoulders as I take the kiss deeper, savoring the taste of her on my tongue.

“You’re so sweet,” I murmur, holding back a moan as she drags her teeth over my lip the same way I had done to her. “So fucking addicting.”

Her legs tighten around my waist, and she grinds ever so slowly against my cock. A hiss leaves my mouth, and my fingers dig into the flesh of her ass, trying to bring her impossibly closer.

“I need you, Kain,” she moans, grinding her hips into mine. My heart leaps, soars to the skies above, but it’s short-lived.

As soon as the desperate words fall from her lips, her muscles freeze, and she jerks back like I struck her. Her eyes, once filled with so much lust it looked like it would consume her, now take on that frightened sheen I’m so used to.

“I-I’m sorry… I don’t know what got into me…” Her words are soft, so soft I’m sure I wasn’t supposed to hear them.

I try to catch her gaze and convey to her all the words I can’t bring myself to say. She refuses to meet me, and it feels like someone has dropped my heart from a fucking skyscraper.

It goes splat on the pavement when she wades back to shore, and I have no other choice but to follow her. Numb, numb, numb. I wish I could rip out the wretched organ causing me so much pain. I’ve never felt this, never imagined it was possible for an emotion to consume me so fully.

“Where are you going?” I call after her. Please, flower. Please come back to me.

“I think I’m done swimming,” she says, feigning a nonchalant expression. “I’m kind of tired. Can we go back to the cabin?”

Cabin. Not home, but a prison. I shouldn’t expect anything else, but I just… I can’t stop from wishing things were different.

“Of course,” I say, stepping back onto the shore and collecting my clothes as she shoves hers back on. Her eyes linger a beat too long on my chest as I pull my shirt on, and I can’t stop that wretched spark of hope. “You ready?”

She nods, her lips pressed in a thin line. She doesn’t speak a word as she climbs behind me on the motorcycle, but the way she presses her fingertips into my chest…

She’ll break for me, eventually. She has to.

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

LILLITH

It’s been three days since Kain took me to the lake, and I still can’t make sense of my actions. When he held me, when he pulled me against him… I wanted him so deeply, so irrevocably, that it hurt. Physically hurt. Even now, when I think about it, my useless heart has a fit and threatens to beat its way out of my rib cage.

A part of me longs for him to take me like he did that day, for him to break and touch me like I’m something… something precious. I always thought the romance books lied about that spark, about the dragons that roar to life in your belly when he’s near.

I was wrong. Oh, so very, very wrong.

“Breakfast?”

I jump at the graveled voice, having been so lost in thought I didn’t notice him enter the bedroom. I’m sitting crisscross on the bed, one of his massive T-shirts falling off my shoulder, and the look in his eyes tells me he’d like nothing better than to rip it off me.

“Sure.” I can’t help the note of excitement that slips into my tone nor the rapid beat of my heart as a smile tugs at Kain’s lips. Beautiful, full lips. Lips I’d like nothing more than to—Nope. Nope, nope, nope.

He nods without a word, then turns and lingers with his hand on the doorknob. “I was thinking… you might like to join me on the porch this morning.”

The words—filled with such formality—sound so strange and forced compared to how he spoke at the lake. I wish I could see his face and look into his eye to see what he’s really trying to say. Kain never says much with words, but his gaze gives away more than he realizes.

“If you’d like,” I say, a pang ringing in my chest as he flinches.

He pauses for a beat too long, and I know what he really wants to say will never make its way to my ears. “I would,” he says before leaving the room.

A puff of air passes my lips as the door clicks shut, and I flop back onto the bed. The springs squeak with the movement, calling attention to the metal cage waiting just below me, like the hungry mouth of a beast. When we got back from the lake, Kain didn’t even attempt to utilize the cage he’s so fond of and hasn’t since. I’m not sure if I’m happy about that or terribly disappointed.

It’s another thing I refuse to think about.

The click of the door has me shooting up in bed, and I’m shocked to see Kain standing there, holding a plate full of steaming pancakes.

“That was fast.” I can’t help the grin that tips my lips. “Are those… did you make me pancakes?”

“I might have already been making them when I asked you earlier.” The ghost of a smile tilts his mouth, and I try not to think about how the sight makes my heart flutter. “And yes. There’s banana in them.”

I narrow my eyes playfully. “So you were going to make me banana pancakes whether I wanted them or not? How very… you.”

“Yes.” Kain jerks his chin toward the front door. “Come.”

After throwing my legs over the side of the bed, I do. I get to the door just in time to watch Kain touch his wrist to the wood panel. I’d make a mental note of where it is, but it’s not like I can open the door—not even if I know where the sensor is. Unless Kain wants to install one of those key thingies in my arm, of course.

The door scrapes open, and sunlight blasts through the opening in the wall. I haven’t been outside in so long that it’s uncomfortable, but if I squint enough, it’s easier to manage.

I plop in the armchair next to Kain, breathing in the heavenly scent of the pancakes he sets on the small side table—glorious, golden-brown circles made with near-obsessive precision.

This. I can admit I missed this.

Kain loads my plate high, topping it with a bucket worth of syrup without needing to ask.

“Enjoy,” he murmurs, passing the plate to me. His gaze never leaves my profile, not even as I shovel forkfuls of the syrupy goodness into my mouth. He’s always so still, so silent that sometimes I forget he’s even here. If it wasn’t for the steady thump of his heart, I’d begin to think he was nothing more than stone.

“What are you thinking about?”

My fork clatters to the porch, and I turn to him with a sheepish smile. “Sorry. You startled me.”

“I see that.” He raises a brow, reminding me I never answered his question. A huff of air passes my lips as I debate whether I want to.

“I was thinking about you, actually,” I murmur, fiddling with a loose thread on my shirt. Kain’s shirt, I remind myself, even as I breathe in the intoxicating smell of him. It’s earthy and spiced with his cologne, and it’s one of the main reasons I allowed him to put it on me. It would be a shame not to.

“What about me?” he asks. “Nothing good, I hope.”

A laugh bubbles past my lips. “Most people hope it’s nothing bad.”

“Is that so?”

“It is. And sorry to disappoint, but no. It wasn’t anything bad.”

Something flashes across his face, but it’s gone too fast for me to tell what it is. “What a shame. I was hoping for something depraved.”

Another laugh. Another flash of that strange emotion. “I’m sure you were. But no. I was wondering who on earth raised you. Your mother must have been fierce.” I flash him a toothy grin, feeling bold. “That, and I was thinking about how good you smell.”

Kain chokes. Actually chokes at my words. “I… thank you.”

“Is that a blush I see?” I wiggle my brows, refusing to back down even as his eyes darken.

“Careful, flower,” he mutters, the muscle in the side of his jaw ticking. His eyes seem to say you know I can’t help myself. Just the thought sends a shiver down my spine.

Because I can’t help myself, either.

“So were you close with your parents?” I ask, feigning nonchalance. Subject change successful.

Kain’s brow raises, and I get the distinct understanding I wasn’t as successful as I thought. Still, he doesn’t push the previous subject.

“I was close with my mother when she lived. My father…” Hatred flares in his gaze for a split second before Kain locks it away, along with every other real emotion I’ve seen. “We didn’t see eye to eye.”

Always so damn cryptic.

I’m not sure what makes me ask my next question, but an overwhelming urge to know something real about this strange man takes hold, and I get its claws out.

“What happened to her? Your mother?” I ask, my voice as gentle as I can make it. For a second, I’m positive he’s going to shut me out, to tell me to go to hell and storm off on his bike. But then the fog in his gaze clears, and he speaks.

“She died when I was six. “ He looks away for the first time all morning, staring hard at the dense thicket of eucalyptus. My breathing halts, scared if I make a noise, he’ll retreat to that dark shell of his.

“I was there when it happened,” he finally says, his words no louder than a whisper. “She got a message on the house phone—one of my father’s mistresses. She was beside herself, screaming, crying, breaking anything she could get her hands on. The only thing that stopped her was when one of the shards struck my cheek. I’m still not sure if she would have noticed if I hadn’t cried out…” He shakes, and a curtain falls over his face. “That was the final straw, apparently. The only man she ever loved was cheating on her, and her actions directly caused the injury of her son.” A puff of air escapes his lips. “She was getting the first-aid kit from under the sink, and the next second, she was on the floor. I tried… I tried to wake her, but she was gone.”

Again, he looks out at the forest. “I can still remember the look on my father’s face when he found the two of us huddled beneath the sink. He couldn’t believe it. No one could.” At this, he looks at me. “They said the tendons in her heart ruptured. A medical anomaly is what the doctors called it. A tragic, unfortunate loss of life. A fluke.”

But it wasn’t a fluke, was it? I can’t breathe, can’t look away from that steely look in his eye.

“A broken heart. She died of a broken heart,” I whisper, worried if I speak any louder, my chest will crack in two. It’s rare, and I’ve never seen it, but I’ve heard stories where the tendons of the heart rupture abruptly. It’s tragic, like he said, and the patients almost always die immediately.

Kain nods once. “She did.”

The silence between us thickens the air, and I’m reminded of the air in the greenhouse. I know what it’s like to hold a dying parent in your arms, and I wouldn’t wish it on my worst enemy.

“I’m so sorry, Kain.” Hollow. The words are hollow in my chest, in the air. But there’s nothing I can say to make it better, no words to tell him how much sorrow I hold for his loss. It wouldn’t make a difference, anyway.

“Thank you, Lillith.” He turns to face me, and I’m struck by how handsome he is in the morning light, even with the mask. “I’m sorry as well. I’m sorry for all you’ve had to go through, all you’ve lost…” It looks like he’s debating whether to say more, but at the end, he simply repeats, “I’m sorry.”

I don’t know what else to say on the subject, afraid to push too far. “Do you have another fork?” I ask, gesturing to the one I dropped. Kain nods, gets up from his chair, and enters the house without bothering to tether me or even ask if I plan to run away. I wonder if he finally knows the truth—that I won’t. I jump when Kain places the fork on my plate, nearly knocking that one to the floor as well.

“Any other burning questions?” I look up at his face, and if I didn’t know better, I’d swear a smirk tugged at his mouth. Hot and cold, hot and cold.

“I have so many I’m not sure where to start,” I murmur, cutting another massive triangle of pancake. “Why are you living in the middle of the woods? Do you have any friends? Who shot you that night in the hospital?” I pause, contemplating the most burning of them all. “Who even are you?”

Kain blinks, then cocks his head. “That is quite a lot.”

Andddd we’re back to square one. “If you don’t want to tell me, that’s fi—”

“I live here because it’s safer than the city. I have one friend—a best friend, a brother—and his name is Wesley. I was shot by a man named Carl Myers, though that wasn’t always his name. He used to go by Hellfyre when I was growing up, when I still considered him my father.”

I balk, my heart freezing in my chest. He… he killed his father. His own father…

“I know that look, Lillith. If you knew what he did…” He stops with an angry shake of the head. “He was a monster, Lillith. And not the kind you view me as. He had to be dealt with, so I did.”

“As for who I am…” He leans closer, close enough that his earthy scent assaults my senses. “I am a bad man, Lillith. That’s all you need to know.”

My heart stutters at that wild look in his eye, and for a second, I think I’ll let him kiss me. But I can’t stop from thinking of my own father, the slow drip, drip, drip of his blood on the asphalt. Those terrible, cruel silver eyes cutting through the darkness.

Eyes like Kain’s.

I spring up from my seat, deaf to the splintering of porcelain as my plate crashes to the porch. He killed his father. What is he going to do to me? Is he going to kill me, too? When the novelty of this whole fucked-up situation becomes boring, will he dispose of me like he did with Drew? Am I going to end up as fish food, too?

The look on my face must be something feral because Kain’s brow knits with worry.

“I would never hurt you, flower. Not like that.” His voice is tender, so tender, and I’m afraid if he says anything else, my mind will break.

“I think… I think I’m going to be sick,” I whisper, refusing to look at that worried twist of his mouth as I sprint inside. I slam the bathroom door behind me and fold my body around the toilet, just in time for my favorite breakfast to reappear.

I’ve let myself be swallowed whole by the calculating beast on the porch, and now I’m afraid there’s no way out.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

KAIN

The next few days pass without anything of substance happening. Lillith still walks around on eggshells in my presence, but her silence worries me the most. Ever since I told her about my father, she’s barely spoken two words to me. It’s like she’s too far underwater for me to reach her, lost in thoughts she can’t pull herself out of.

She’ll sometimes slip into that rare effervescent expression, the one I saw at the lake. It’s mostly when we’re sitting out on the porch in the morning, when the silence between us feels comfortable, and the scent of freshly brewed coffee mingles with the tang of eucalyptus. It’s those moments I wish would go on forever, those seconds I long to curl up, to live and die in.

They never last long, and as soon as she hears the caw of a bird, the chirp of a squirrel, she always resorts to that sad, hollow shell of hers. Why won’t you speak to me like you did that afternoon at the lake? I want to ask. If that fails, why won’t you yell at me, scream about how sick I am? I’ll take anything over this… this catastrophic silence.

Every time I see a flash of that fire, it snuffs as soon as she gazes at the mask hiding my face. I know why. It’s a reminder of what I am and who I will always be. She can’t unsee the monster in me, and I don’t want her to. Selfishly, I want her to look at it and tell me it’s okay anyway. That she can handle it, that she wants to.

I know she won’t, but I can’t let her go. Every time I think about it, it’s like my mind breaks. I won’t. I can’t. I won’t, I won’t, I won’t.

But I should.

It’s what she deserves, yet it’s the only thing I’m incapable of giving her.

I storm outside, smashing the mask into place as I take the stairs. Not even the sharp tang of eucalyptus can clear my mind as I stalk over to my bike. I slam my fist on the handlebars, rage coursing through my veins, heating my skin despite the chill of the night air. I hate how I lose all control when she’s around. With the state of my body, my mind is the one thing I’ve come to count on through the years. But as soon as I see her, smell her… I just can’t help myself.

She’s all I can think about, all I want to think about. If I could, I’d crawl in her fucking skin and live there.

“I need to get some sleep,” I groan, rubbing a hand over my face. There’s something I need to do before I can, though. Something important. Kicking off, I speed down the road into the mouth of the forest.

It takes a good half an hour before I make it to the city limits and just as long to wind down the side streets to Lillith’s apartment building. I park in the alleyway and climb the steps, a disgusted huff passing my lips as I step inside the foyer. I’m so fucking thankful I don’t have to worry about her living here anymore.

The day I took Lillith, I had Ghost pay the rent for the rest of the year from my bank account. Not for her to live in—as long as I have any say, she’ll never step foot in this hellhole again—but so I can continue to feed the little pigeon she cares about so much. I researched them, desperate to understand what she saw in the ugly little feathered thing. Now that I realize how helpless they are, it makes more sense why she had been so dedicated to feeding it.

I make my way to her door, pulling a silver key from my jacket and shoving it in the lock. It turns with ease, and I step inside, cringing as the ancient boards creak beneath my weight. This place is so run down that I half expect the floor to give way.

“Fucking pigeon,” I grumble, carefully stepping into the bedroom. A blast of chill night air billows in from the open window, causing goose bumps to rise along my forearms. The little bird is nestled on top of one of Lillith’s pillows, a bounty of feathers, sticks, and zip ties strewn around him. The bag of worms is exactly where I left it, though it’s considerably less hefty than yesterday.

“Little porker,” I mumble, grabbing the bag to inspect the tiny beak-sized hole he managed to poke in the side. Guess you’re not so helpless after all.

It lets out a weird chirrup noise and puffs up, its mouth opening and closing as if it’s trying to take in air. I watch its movements in alarm, wondering if something’s the matter with it. Oh fuck, did I poison her bird?

But then it settles down, and my heart slows to a normal pace. I shoot a glare at it, hoisting the bag high over my head. “You know what? I don’t think you deserve these.”

It does the stupid little puffing thing again, and I toss the bag onto the bed. “Okay, fine!” Have them all. Just don’t fucking die, okay?

With a huff, I storm from the apartment. “Why did she have to have a pigeon? She could have had anything as a pet, but a goddamn pigeon?” Lord only knows what she’ll bring home one day. What she’ll let the kids bring home.

The last thought has me stopping in my tracks. I haven’t ever considered having children. Not with the work I do and certainly not with my… proclivities. But Lillith is so good, so gentle and kind. Maybe she can cancel out some of my wretchedness. Maybe…

I shake it away. She hates me right now, so there’s no point in even thinking about it. Angrily, I throw my leg over my bike and rev the engine, shooting out of the alleyway and down the street. My mind is a mess, and the city's silence does nothing to calm me down. I just hope once I’m back at the cabin with her, I’ll be able to rest.

The secret door scrapes against its hinges as I step inside the cabin, breathing in the musk of the cedar planks lining the walls and floor. Once the door is shut, I stand in the center of the room, listening for any indication that my flower is awake. There’s a faint rustle of bedsheets, then an incoherent jumble of words. Lillith likes to talk in her sleep, though it rarely makes any sense.

Except when she has her nightmares. I can always tell when she’s having one of those.

Guilt grips my chest as I stalk to the bedroom door. My fingers wrap around the handle, but something stops me from entering. The look on her face at the lake, the disgust marring her perfect features. I can’t see it again, not tonight. Not when I’m this exhausted, when my inhibitions are already paper thin.

I sigh, dropping my fist from the handle and stepping over to the couch at the other end of the room. I wish she would remember. Maybe then she would stop hating me, would finally let me in when she realizes what I’m willing to do for her. What I’ve always been willing to do.

I lie down on the scratchy cushions, forcing my eyes shut as my mind wanders to that one night, and the consequences I faced because of it. I’ve never been sorry, and I never will be. I’ll wear the scars with pride, and I’ll be more than I was before. It’s worth it for her.

The seductive cloud of sleep falls over me, and before I know it, I’m falling… falling… falling…

Bile rises in my throat. Sometimes the worst part about being conscious isn’t even the pain. It’s the smell of the place. Like something’s rotting. I look down at the flayed skin on my palm and laugh. The motion causes the muscle in my cheek to split back open, and my mouth fills with the taste of copper. I almost forgot…

I’m the thing that’s rotting.

Light trickles beneath the crack of the door, followed by the shuffle of work boots across the rotting floorboards. It’s back. The door creaks open, revealing a pair of cruel golden eyes.

“Miss me?” It asks.

I straighten in the wooden chair, numb to the gentle tug of the nails holding my wrists in place. I don’t even have the strength to fight against It anymore. It’s taken so much from me, but the one thing It’ll never have is my pride.

Raising my chin high, I give It a daring look. “Fuck you.”

“You little brat,” It seethes, stepping fully into the room and grabbing a crowbar from the blood-drenched table. “Still haven’t had enough, huh?”

Rearing back, It slams the rod onto my forearm. It hurts, it hurts, it hurts, but not nearly enough to make me cry out. That pisses It off even more, which is what I was hoping for. The only thing keeping me alive at this point is my desire to kill the fuck. Since I can’t physically fight back, my only option is mental warfare.

“You’re not leaving until you learn your fucking lesson.” It throws the crowbar to the ground and shuffles things around on his torture table. “Fuck me,” It hisses, turning to give me a glare like it’s my fault it came unprepared. “I’ll be right back. Stay where you are.” Giving me a sick smile of satisfaction, It stalks out of the room, slamming the heavy steel door behind.

As soon as It’s gone, I let out a garbled cry of pain. The area It struck is swollen to the size of a small melon, and I don’t need to see it to know the bone is shattered.

“What the hell did you do to piss him off so much?”

I jerk my head toward the emaciated heap in the corner. The candle flickering in the corner casts shadows to the hollows of his cheeks, adding to the ghostly appearance of my cellmate. Unlike me, he’s chained to the wall by his wrists, though they dangle loosely in the cuffs from the sheer amount of weight he’s lost.

“Disobeyed,” I growl, shifting in the chair as eyes the color of angry storm clouds stare at me. “And I’m not fucking sorry about it.”

“Huh. And here I was thinking you were someone important.”

“Yeah? Fuck you.” I grumble, turning to watch a fly that just landed on the chair's arm. “I’m getting really tired of the sound of your voice.”

“Likewise, friend.”

“Shut the fuck up.” I roll my eyes. “We’re not fucking friends.”

A weak chuckle slips past his lips. “Are you sure about that? I know what your screams sound like—I’d say that makes us close enough for me to consider you one.”

“Consider whatever the fuck you want. Just keep quiet.”

“No need to get snippy with me.” Another chuckle. “I’ve been down here a while... and dying for some titillating conversation. Carl isn’t much of a talker—I’m not sure if you’ve noticed.”

“Who the fuck says titillating?” I cough, and blood splatters down my chest.

The ghost on the wall raises his head to give me a smirk. “People with brains. People with class.”

“And I assume you want me to believe you’re one of those?”

He shrugs. “The former, at the very least. How else would I know your father is the one dishing out your torture?”

My blood turns to ice. “You… what?”

“Come on. It’s not that hard to see. I’m well acquainted with the rage of a father.” The air thickens with nothing but the low buzzing of flies to break the silence. “For what it’s worth, I’m sorry.”

“Sorry’s not going to keep me alive,” I bite. “Unless you have a way out of those chains, my father is going to kill both of us before the week is through.”

The shadows sigh. “Luckily for you, I’ve been working on that this whole time.” With a sly little smirk, he shakes the cuff dangling loosely from his wrist. There’s a small pop as he reaches over and dislocates his thumb, then to my amazement, he slips it right out of the restraints.

“How long have you been able to do that?”

He brings the free hand to his chin and taps thoughtfully. “A few days. I just wanted to see how long you’d last, then I was going to escape.” His face widens in a terrifying grin. “But you’ve intrigued me. Watching you these past few days has been more entertainment than I’ve had in forever. I’d like to offer you salvation, my friend.”

“You’re fucking insane,” I breathe, my eyes widening as I take in my cunning cellmate. I thought I was crazy, but this guy is taking it to a whole other level…

His dark irises glint in the dark. “Thank you. So is that a yes or no on the salvation thing? Because Myers will come back any second, and I’d kind of like to know before he cuts out your tongue and you can’t talk anymore.”

I don’t have time to think about it. I don’t have the luxury.

“Yes,” I whisper.

As soon as the word passes my lips, the dungeon door creaks back open. The silver-haired boy goes slack against the wall, pretending to be asleep while It—my father, Carl Hellfyre—steps inside. I try to follow my cellmate’s advice, but as soon as I see that ugly fucking smirk, all I can think is how much I want to carve a smile of my own onto his face.

“Told you I’d be back,” Carl coos, pulling a thick steel torch from behind his back. “I think I’ve got just what I need to teach you some respect.” I can’t help but roll my eyes. He went from a crowbar to this? What a pussy.

Carl’s piss-yellow eyes narrow at my movement. “You think you’re so tough. We’ll see how well you roll your fucking eyes when you don’t have any.”

Fisting my hair in his fingers, he forces my head back and fires up the torch. I can feel the heat from the flame grow more intense as he slowly inches it toward my face. No, not my face—my right eye.

“Don’t fight it,” Carl coos, pushing the peak of the blue flame into my eye socket. Bright, blinding pain wracks through my entire being, and though I try not to give him what he wants, the excruciating burning is too much to bear.

My mouth opens wide, and a scream rips from my chest.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

LILLITH

For the first time all week, it’s not my nightmare that wakes me. It’s his. I can’t pretend to imagine the contents, but I know all too well what it’s like to be trapped inside your own mind. It sucks. Royally.

Part of me wants to reach out, to hold him until it passes. The other part reminds me that this man fucking kidnapped me. I should be hoping for a heart attack to strike in his sleep.

I can’t, though. I just lie here like the sick, twisted mess I am and listen to him scream himself hoarse, wishing I could go out there and offer some comfort. The dream lasts no more than a few minutes, but lying here in the dark with nothing else to do, it seems like an eternity. I’m only sure it’s over when the creak of the bedroom door alerts me to his arrival.

He pauses at the foot of the bed, and I try to quiet my breathing so he thinks I’m asleep. My heart betrays me, like always. He can probably hear it thrumming a mile away.

“I know you’re up.” His voice is hoarse, and it causes another pang to ring in my chest. “Will you be good if I take you out?”

Why is he asking me that? More importantly, why do I want to tell him yes?

“Fuck.” A lighter clicks, its flame casting a soft glow across the floorboards. My captor sucks in a deep breath, and a strange sweet-smelling smoke floods my senses. With the joint dangling loosely from his lips, he undoes the lock, letting the door swing open as he takes a step back.

“Come here, Lillith.”

My throat bobs at the order. Every cell in my body screams that I should stay put, but for some reason, I crawl toward him on my hands and knees. I know this is fucked up. I know I shouldn’t want this, want him. But he’s stirred something dark in me, something I could never imagine myself capable of.

I want to be held so tightly that I break. I need to feel what it’s like to be put back together, piece by shattered piece. And I know my captor is the only one capable of doing that.

When I finally stand, he doesn’t attempt to touch me. Just cocks his head, the sharp edges of his mask glinting menacingly from the glow of the lit joint.

“I’m going out. You may sleep on the bed.” His silver eye glints with a warning. “Do not try to leave this room. If you do, I’ll know. And you won’t like what happens.” His eye rakes painfully slowly over my naked torso before shaking his head, a flash of something like remorse lighting up his pale iris. He doesn’t want to leave, so why is he?

“I’ll be back before morning. Try to get some sleep,” he whispers, the intensity of it letting me know it’s not a suggestion. He pauses with his hand on the doorknob, giving me one last fleeting glance before storming out of the room.

My shoulders slump as the lock clicks into place, and I fall back onto the mattress. Compared to the thin cot I was sleeping on, this feels like heaven. Faint notes of eucalyptus and sulfur wash over me, filling me with a strange sense of warmth. I shove my face into a pillow, breathing in his scent as my mind muddles with sleep. I’m not sure how I’ll get out of this, but I’m terrified that the longer I stay, the less I’ll want to leave.

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

KAIN

The drunken cheers resonating from the inside of the club make me roll my eye. I should have fucking known these idiots would be celebrating tonight. I shouldn’t have come.

“Look who it is! I haven’t seen you in forever, man!”

A low growl tumbles from my lips as I turn to face Landon and his patchee. Judging by the way he cowers behind his superior, he’s heard all he needs to know about me. I almost feel bad at the way his shit-colored eyes light with fear. Almost.

“What do you want, Landon?” I growl, looking over his shoulder to see a group of women ogling us from the porch. Fucking great.

“Damn. They still haven’t found what crawled up your ass, huh?” The patchee elbows a paling Landon, clearly unable to read the room.

“Watch,” I hiss, shooting a glare at the frightened teen. “Landon, where’s Onyx?”

“Don’t know. Don’t care.” Landon rolls his eyes with a giggle, spilling whatever was left in his red solo cup. Fucker is sloshed beyond imagination. And it’s only midnight.

I sigh, brushing past him. “Does Carlotta know how much you’ve had to drink tonight?”

“What she doesn’t know won’t hurt her.” He hiccups, his lips spreading to reveal a shit-eating grin. “And if it does, I’ll just make it up to her in bed tonight.” He waggles his light brows, causing the dumb fuck behind him to let out a chuckle.

“You’re such an ass.” I fix him with a bored expression, then stomp to the front door, my fingers twitching with the need for… something.

More violence. More pain.

I shake off that irritating little voice in my mind and step inside, letting out a heavy sigh as I saunter up to the bar. It’s been years since I’ve given in to the compulsions, the dark desires that plague me late into the night. So why is it suddenly so hard to control? Deep down, I know it’s the work of my little flower. She’s unraveling me, undoing the very threads of my existence. And I haven’t even fucked her yet.

My cock throbs painfully against the tight denim as I walk behind the bar. Ripping a bottle from the shelf, I wrap my lips around the mouth and chug.

“Fuck.” I cough, my eyes watering as I take in the label. Just my luck. Absinthe.

“I was going to ask how you’re doing, but then I saw you chugging a bottle of fucking absinthe.”

I look at Wes’s scowling face, noting how he’s swaying on his feet. “I’m fucking peachy.”

“Where have you been?” he asks, searching my face with dull chocolate eyes. “Are you really so busy that you can’t hang out with your brothers anymore?”

“I can’t do this tonight, Wes.” I sigh, rubbing a tired hand over my jaw. “Piss off, would you?”

“Right. The only thing that matters is what Kain wants. I forgot,” he slurs, whipping his arms to the side in an attempt to seem more formidable. Like he needs the help. “You don’t even care what’s going on in this club anymore. If you did, you’d be here handling this shit.”

“Don’t do this, Bear,” I mutter, hoping he gets the warning in his impaired state. Don’t make me do something I’ll regret.

“Fuck you, Kain,” he spits. “You’re a shitty best friend, you know that?”

“Stop it,” I order, narrowing my eye at the teetering giant. Don’t push me. Not tonight.

With a nasty snarl, Wes throws a punch in the general direction of my face. I dodge it with ease, using my momentum to swing my fist into the base of his sternum. Wes stumbles back, but it’s more to do with the alcohol coursing through his veins than the force of my punch.

“What’s wrong?” he mocks, still trying to catch his breath. “Some bitch turned down your ugly ass again?”

My vision tunnels as I lunge toward him, all of my momentum aimed at his stupid fucking grin. I’m blind to the splitting pain between my knuckles as I send punch after punch into my best friend’s face. Somewhere in the distance, people are screaming, tugging my shirt, desperate to stop my assault.

“Kain, stop it!” I freeze mid-strike, dragging my eye up to see Landon’s fiancée’s face crumpled in horror. “You’re going to kill him!”

“Good,” I snarl, turning my glower to the unconscious heap beneath me.

“You don’t mean that,” Carlotta snaps. “He’s your best friend, for fuck’s sake. If you kill him, you’ll never forgive yourself.”

I already can’t. “I don’t care.”

“Would you stop being such a shit taco and get up? Someone needs to make sure Wes is still breathing,” Carlotta huffs, placing a hand on her hip.

I blink at her. “A what?”

“A shit taco.” She huffs. “Don’t make me sick my fiancé on you.”

I roll my eye, but I stand nonetheless. Several women rush to be the first to tend to Wes’s injuries, and I look away in disgust.

“Go on,” Carlotta snaps, pointing toward the exit. “You need to get out of here before you do any more damage.”

“I’m fine,” I snarl, stomping in the direction of John’s office. I need to find out what’s going on, and I need to know now. My fingers wrap around the handle, and I pause, the fog of anger clearing to make way for a wave of guilt. I turn my head over my shoulder, but before I get the chance to speak, Carlotta beats me to it.

“I’ll make sure Wes is okay. Don’t worry,” she says, a hint of sympathy in her voice. “I’m sure you two will be best buddies in the morning. Once you both sober up and come to your senses, that is.”

“Thank you, Carlotta,” I say, meaning it. She gives me a little wave and disappears into the crowd, leaving me to stew over the current dilemma.

Without knocking, I burst through the door to Onyx’s office.

Four beefy leather-clad men are seated around the poker table, though I can’t see the face of the one with his back to me. The air is heavy with a cloud of cigar smoke, burning my eyes and throat as I take in the other three. Onyx is on the far right, a glowing cigar dangling from his gaping mouth. The other two I don’t recognize, but the thick green snakes climbing up the arms of their jackets tell me all I need to know. Fucking Serpents.

“Kain, before you—”

“What the fuck are snakes doing here?” My voice is dangerously low as I swing my gaze to John, letting him feel the weight of my anger. “Give me one reason I shouldn’t shoot you in the fucking skull.”

“Please excuse Kain, everyone.” John sighs, his chair making a god-awful screeching sound as he stands. His light blue eyes swing to me as he huffs, “He forgets his place occasionally.”

In a flash, I pull my gun out of my waistband and push the barrel against his forehead. The two Serpents fall back with a gasp, scrambling to retrieve their own weapons.

“Don’t bother,” I murmur, flicking off the safety with my index. He’ll be dead before your pants are soiled.

“I really don’t think that’s wise.”

That voice.

I turn my head slightly, noticing a matching silver barrel pointed at my own temple. “It’s been a while, hasn’t it, Kain?” His voice is a hiss, not all that different from a viper. Callum Beck.

“Not long enough,” I growl, shooting the Serpent’s new leader an icy glare. Leader, thanks to my actions. He should be thanking me.

Callum’s lips part, revealing a set of shiny white teeth, each one filed to a lethal, jagged point. Hideous, like the open mouth of a shark.

“How about we all play nice?” Callum sneers. “I’d hate to get brains all over Onyx’s freshly painted walls.”

“As you wish,” I say, swinging my arm to the side so it’s pointed at Callum. Beady, hateful black eyes narrow behind a mop of unruly brown waves, the scar I gave him all those years ago still pulling at the corner of his lip as he sneers at me.

“We both know you’re not going to shoot, Kain. Put down the gun.” He sighs tiredly, but I see the way the veins bulge in his forearm. He’s nervous.

“Ladies first,” I growl, gesturing to his waist with the tip of the steel barrel.

Callum rolls his eyes but still shoves it into the holster at his hip. “There. Better now?”

“Not even fucking close,” I whisper, tightening my finger ever so slightly. He deserves to die. All of them do.

“Put the gun down, Kain.” John claps a hand on my shoulder. I wheel around, keeping my finger locked in position as I turn it on him.

“Make me,” I hiss, waggling it between his eyes. “Or are you not the brutal man you’re so desperate for everyone to see you as?” It’s the most I’ve spoken all night, and everyone stays deadly silent, afraid to move an inch as I hold the life of the leader of the Hellfyre Club in my hands. Another minute goes by before I sigh, dropping the weapon to my side. “I’m not going to kill you, John.”

But you’re going to wish I did.

I turn and stomp out of the office without another word, the nervous whispers barely registering in my mind. Fuck Onyx, fuck Callum, fuck this whole club.

I shake my head as I push open the heavy oak door, stepping into the clear night air. My thoughts are a mess, and the quarter of absinthe I chugged isn’t making things easier, but one thing rings true through it all. Leaving Lillith tonight was a mistake. I can’t think straight knowing she’s lying there naked in my bed, her beautiful body curled between the sheets, cloaking her in my scent.

I pound my fist on the seat of my bike. She’s so close, yet still so far from my reach, and it’s driving me fucking insane. I need her. Even if it’s just to hold her against me and feel her pulse beating beneath my palms. I have to know she’s real, that she’s finally mine.

From some dark corner of my mind, a door splinters, letting out every deranged, vile thing locked inside over the years. There’s nothing I can do—no way to close a door that ceases to exist—and I know I’ve lost. The voice merges with mine, throws that veil of shadows and madness over mine. And then there are words, repeating over and over. They fill my head with madness and violence and desire until they’re the only words I possess. And still, they repeat.

She’s mine, just as you are.

Mine.

Mine.

Mine.

Mine.

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

LILLITH

"Here you go. Since you wanted to be with them so badly."

A scream tears from my throat as he throws my body across the alley, my scalp screaming from where he gripped my hair moments ago. I expect to meet the harsh grit of the concrete, but instead, my body comes into contact with something soft and wet. So very, very wet.

And cold. Ice cold.

I look down at my arms—at the sticky dark substance coating my exposed skin—and I scream.

Red. Everything is red. My arms, my face, my parents’ bodies lying beneath me. It's all red, red, red.

"Come here, you little bitch," that cold voice snarls. I barely have time to register it before those same hands are gripping my scalp and hauling me off my parents.

"Kneel. I want you to look at them."

I don't know what else he expects me to do. I can't move, can't take my eyes away from them—from all the horrible, horrible red.

My knees scream as the gravel digs into my skin, but I barely register the pain. It's so faint—barely a whisper as something clicks behind my head.

"I'm going to fucking enjoy this—"

I wake with a jolt as footsteps clomp toward the bedroom door. I’m not sure what time it is, but I don’t remember having a nightmare, so it has to be sometime before five. The door flings open, and I slam my eyes shut. His steps are far less controlled than usual, and he lets out a curse as he slams into the edge of the bed. Is he drunk?

“Such a pretty little flower,” he mumbles, the sharp tang of liquor and sulfur engulfing my senses as he clambers onto the mattress. A massive arm shoots out, wrapping itself around my torso, and my muscles freeze as he pulls me into him. My eyes shoot open as he nuzzles into the crook of my neck. Something long and hard presses into the small of my back, and I don’t have to look to know he has a raging hard-on.

He lets out a little moan as his teeth rake across the sensitive flesh, and I have to bite my lip to stop the whimper that wants to break free.

“Why won’t you let me have you?” His voice is tortured, and I know I wasn’t meant to hear that last utterance. My chest constricts with the need to turn around and hold him. Instead, I wait patiently until his soft snores fill the room, knowing this may be my only chance of escape.

I try to lift his arm, but it weighs a fucking ton. Stupid beefcake. I let out a disgruntled huff, trying my best to wriggle from the log of a forearm. It takes far longer than I’d like, but I manage to get free without waking the sleeping giant.

Padding to the door, I wrap my fist around the handle and turn. I can’t hear much over the pulse thrumming in my ears, but the groan that sounds from the bed rings as loud as a gunshot. I whip my head around, certain that menacing silver eye will be glinting through the shadows.

But it’s not. The drunken heap of a man lies exactly where he was a moment ago, though his snores are slightly more sporadic. A sigh brushes my lips as I pull open the door and hasten from the room. I don’t look back.

My vision tunnels as I stand in the middle of the living room, my eyes darting wildly along the four walls in search of the exit. There has to be some way out, something that doesn’t require Kain’s skin key thingy. My heart sinks to my feet as reality kicks in. I’m trapped. I’m going to fucking die here.

I’m about to crumble to my knees when a glint of steel catches my eye. In the far-left corner of the room, the wood breaks to reveal a silver hatch cut into the floorboards. My heart soars at the sight, and before I know it, my fingers are wrapping around the slim metal handle of the hatch. The hinges creak from the sheer weight of the door, but I’m too frantic to care about waking Kain anymore. This is it. This is my chance to escape.

An ominous air swirls from the hatch, and my throat bobs as I take in the darkened stairwell. The first few concrete steps are visible, but the rest slink into the shadows, giving it the appearance of a portal to hell.

I suck in a breath, then take the first step down. As there’s no rail, I keep my hand on the wall to my right and carefully descend. The echo of my steps increases the deeper I go, and I begin to question the probablility of an escape route this deep underground.

I can’t go back, not now. I’ve come this far already, and I won’t rule it out until I absolutely have to. I take another step, and the texture beneath my foot changes, letting me know I’ve reached the bottom. Compared to the harshness of the concrete steps, the plush carpet nestled between my toes feels nothing short of luxurious. It gives me pause but does nothing to deter me from my mission.

I have to rely on my sense of touch as I stumble along the walls of the room, my fingers desperately clawing at the walls for anything resembling an exit. I make it to the second wall before my shin bumps into something hard, causing me to lose my balance and crash sideways to the ground. Several items clatter to the floor as I attempt to regain my balance, reaching out for anything that might stabilize me.

A tiny chuckle echoes off the walls, and I freeze.

“I thought I told you not to leave the room, Lillith?” The lights flick on, and he’s there, crouching under the archway of the stairs. The devil himself.

“You tried to leave,” he deadpans, a starved look in the eye he trails over my naked torso. “I hate when you do that.”

“And I hate being kidnapped. But here we are,” I snap, trying to keep my voice strong despite everything in me that wants to crumble beneath his gaze. He terrifies me when he gets like this. It’s not the same man who holds me, the one who drives me wild and makes me feel things I’ve never imagined possible. This is an animal. A violent, angry beast capable of god-knows-what.

Kain trails his tongue over his lower lip, his pupil blowing as he takes in my expression. Suddenly, he drops down to his hands and knees and crawls toward me, a sick little grin tugging at the corner of his mouth. My body is frozen as he nears, helpless to do anything but watch as he dips his head between my knees. Keeping his eye locked on my face, he sucks a deep breath in through his nose, and goose bumps race across his skin.

“I can smell your dripping cunt from here, little flower. You’re enjoying this just as much as I am,” he husks, biting his lip so hard he draws blood. My core pulses at the sight, and I’m suddenly desperate for his mouth on me.

“I—” I stop, not trusting my voice right now. The sick part about it is he’s right. I’m not even sure my emotion earlier was fear. He’s turned my world upside down, and I’m not even sure I’m real anymore. If any of this is.

“I want to play with you,” he whispers, reaching up to cup my cheek. “A wager for the freedom you think you want so badly.”

“Wager?” I ask, not sure I want to know the answer. The sick sheen in his eye tells me I’m correct. Without a word, he stands and walks to the opposite end of the room. Now that he’s farther away, my vision comes back into focus, and I have the chance to look at my surroundings.

“Oh God…” I whisper, shutting my eyes against the sight. Though I’m not familiar with them personally, I’ve seen enough TV to recognize a sex room. If the whips and chains lining the walls hadn’t given it away, the giant metal cross in the corner would.

“You don’t like it?”

My eyes pop at the sound of his voice directly in front of me. He cocks his head, a knowing glint in his eye as he gestures to the metal X. “I had that specially installed for you.”

For me? I gulp, imagining myself spread out and helpless for him on the cross. Before I have the chance to speak, he produces a thick blindfold, dangling it between his thumb and forefinger in front of my nose.

“Put this on,” he orders, his tone leaving zero room for argument. My fingers tremble as I tie the silky material behind my head, willingly cutting off one of my vital senses.

“Good girl,” he murmurs, pressing his lips to my temple. “Very good girl.” His palm strikes my ass, and I let out a little squeak. “You like being good for me, don’t you, Lillith?”

“I don’t—”

“Shh.” He guides my jaw up to his mouth. “I already know the answer.”

His lips brush mine, leaving a tiny trail of sparks where he touched me. I hold my breath, desperate to feel him and taste him again. A dark chuckle pours from his mouth, and suddenly, his hand is around my throat, cutting off my air supply. My survival instincts kick in, and I desperately claw at his steel rod of a forearm in an attempt to dislodge his grip.

“Because you’re not actually a good girl, are you?” he hisses, his breath hot against the shell of my ear. “You’ve been bad, little flower. And bad girls deserve to be punished.”

He releases his grip, and I slump to the floor, heaving in lungfuls of precious oxygen. His hands dig into my sides, and I barely have time to blink before he slings my body over his shoulder.

There’s a loud ringing in my ears as we ascend the stairs. I’m terrified of what he’s really capable of. He said we were going to play a game—what the fuck am I supposed to make of that? More importantly, why am I so excited to find out what he has in that twisted mind?

“Watch your head,” he murmurs, holding his palm over my crown as we shimmy back through the hatch door. My pulse races as he steps across the floorboards, each footfall creating an ominous creaking noise. My body shifts on his shoulder as he reaches up, and something clicks softly. There’s a loud scraping noise, and when it finally ceases, the crisp scent of eucalyptus and pine wafts up my nose.

Outside.

The cool night air bites at my skin and makes me shiver, but it doesn’t matter. I’m going outside.

“I’m going to put you down. Do not try to run.” Kain’s voice sends me plummeting back to reality. Just because he let me out of the cabin doesn’t mean he’ll let me out of his sight. I’m the opposite of free.

Making good on his word, he places me gently onto the ground, keeping his hand at the small of my back to steady me.

“You may take off the blindfold now.”

I try to do as he says, but my hands shake so hard it makes the task impossible. He sighs, and then his rough hand touches mine. “Let me,” he whispers, his voice unusually soft.

“Okay.” I drop my arms to my side as he deftly undoes the knot. Once he’s done, he reaches around and pulls me flush against his chest. The shaft of his cock digs painfully into the small of my back, and I’m overcome with the urge to reach behind me and palm it. Bad. Bad, Lillith.

“Do you want to play with me, Lillith?” he husks, digging his fingertips into my abdomen. “Because I want to play with you.”

“What does that mean?” I ask, my eyes wide as he trails lower.

“I want to see how fast you can run.” He leans down, raking his teeth along the side of my neck. “I want to smell how wet you get when you’re being hunted.”

“What about the wager?” I whisper, my chest quaking with the effort to keep my breathing level. He hums low in his throat, placing a delicate kiss on my neck. I barely have time to enjoy it before he replaces the gesture with teeth, sinking them painfully into my flesh.

“Ow! Fuck!” I hiss, trying to jerk away on impulse.

“Bad,” he murmurs, increasing the pressure until the skin breaks. My eyes roll to the back of my head as he sucks the area, lapping the blood greedily with his tongue.

“So sweet,” he groans, giving the wound one last kiss before pulling back entirely. “I can’t wait to taste the rest of you.”

“You’re sick,” I whisper, my knees seconds from caving where I stand. This is wrong. All fucking wrong. But then, why does it feel so good?

His chest shakes. “Yes, little flower. I am. And you fucking love it,” he coos, giving my ass a swat as he steps back. “You get a two-minute head start. If you make it to the road before I catch you, I’ll set you free. If you can’t…” His breath hitches. “If you can’t, then you agree to be mine. No more shutting me out. No more disobedience. Just mine.”

My mind reels, the strong scent of pine suddenly making me nauseous. That, or the knowledge of what will happen to me if I fail. I shake my head. No. I’m not going to fail. I’m going to make it. I have to.

“Which way is the road?” I ask.

Kain snorts. “Your time starts now, Lillith. I suggest you start running.”

My legs move before I know what I’m doing. I race past the tree line, barely registering the splitting pain in my feet as I crash through the brush. I have no idea whether I’m running toward the road or into the beast’s mouth, but it doesn’t matter. I need to put as much distance between us as possible. Even if I don’t make it, I’m sure as fuck not going to make it easy for him.

I’m so out of my mind that I don’t notice the root until it’s too late. The top of my foot gets caught, and the added momentum from my sprint sends my body cartwheeling through the air. There’s a sharp crack as my temple slams into a stump, and I’m vaguely aware of something warm dripping down the side of my face. My hand trembles as I reach up, swiping my fingers through the viscous fluid pouring from the gash along my hairline.

“Oh God…” My lips are numb as I stare down at my palm caked in mud and crimson. I need to get up. I have to keep running.

A stick cracks somewhere in the distance, and my heart drops to my stomach. As much as I want to believe it’s the work of some animal, I know better. It’s him. The devil.

I lost.

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

KAIN

I take a deep breath in through my nose, relishing the sweet aroma of her cunt. There’s something else, though. Copper. My lips tug downward as I peer at her through the brush. The moonlight casts waves of blue light across her shoulders, giving her skin an iridescent quality. I can’t wait to see what she’ll look like with pretty red welts marring that beautiful body, but I have to be patient.

She lifts her head, eyes darting wildly around in search of me. Like seeing me is going to help what’s about to happen. I’m about to step out when a flash of red on the side of her head catches my eye. She’s bleeding.

“You need to be more careful,” I coo, watching with satisfaction as she jumps at the sound. “I don’t like when my toys get damaged.”

Her head whips over to where I’m standing, and though I know she can’t see me, she narrows her eyes.

“I don’t like getting chased through the woods. We can’t always get what we want.”

A chuckle rumbles deep in my chest. “You’re a terrible liar, Lillith. I could slide my fucking fist in your pussy with how wet you are right now.” Her eyes narrow, but she doesn’t disagree.

“That’s what I thought,” I coo, stepping into the light. Her throat bobs, but she never loses that defiant little sheen in her eyes. It’s so fucking adorable, the way she thinks she can fight this.

“You don’t know shit,” she hisses, backing up between two large stumps. When she realizes her exit is cut off, her eyes widen up at me. “What… what are you going to do to me?”

I smirk, crouching in front of her so our eyes are level. “So you remembered our little deal?” I bring a hand up, cupping the side of her face as I run my thumb over the dried blood. “Nothing that you won’t like.”

“What does that mean?”

My heart jumps as I look into her emerald irises, glistening with unshed tears. A single drop slips out, and I swipe it onto the pad on my thumb. Unblinking, I bring it to my lips and suck it off, loving the way her face lights with panic.

“You can cry as much as you want, little flower. It just makes me hard.”

“Fuck you!” She kicks her heel out, clipping the side of my jaw with a surprising amount of force. My lips work their way into a smirk as I reach up and snap it back into place. She’s fiery. I love it. Palming her knees, I pry her thighs open and position my head just above her cunt, taking in lungfuls of her addicting scent. I gaze up at her as she fists my hair in her delicate fingers, pulling hard enough to make me wince the slightest bit.

“Let go of me,” she whispers, her voice slightly huskier than before. My hands trail over the mound of her ass, and she shivers.

“Let me taste you,” I groan, wanting nothing more than to drink her in. She’s glistening for me. I can see it. I can fucking smell it. “You’re so perfect, my little flower. Let me make you feel good. Let me worship you.”

“I…” She stops, looking off to the side while her cheeks heat to the cutest fucking shade of pink. “I don’t know.”

“I think you do,” I growl, my chest spiking with something like glee as her pussy pulses for me. “Your body betrays you, little flower.” She lets out a little whimper and wiggles closer to my mouth. It’s all I can do not to grab her and shove my tongue deep in her dripping cunt.

“Lillith,” I groan, my resolve weakening. “Tell me you want me. Beg me to eat you.”

She makes a little sound low in her throat and wiggles even closer. God-fucking-dammit.

“Lillith,” I breathe, tightening my grip on her ass. “I need you to use your words.” I can’t take something from her she doesn’t want. I won’t.

Her voice comes out barely above a whisper. “Please.”

“Please, what?” I demand, losing my patience with the precious little thing.

“Please lick me,” she whimpers. “I want to feel your mouth on me. Please.”

That’s all I need. I lunge forward, wrapping my lips around her swollen nub and sucking hard. She lets out a little yelp and tries to shy away from the sensation, but my grip on her ass is like a vise. Her legs shudder on either side of my head, and I give her clit one last lick before trailing lower. I shove my face deep in her glistening cunt, dipping my tongue inside and lapping at her arousal until she’s practically screaming.

“So fucking sweet,” I breathe. “I’ve been waiting way too fucking long for this.” My tongue lashes against her sensitive nub, and she cries out. Her lip quivers, and she tries pressing her core further against my mouth, but I hold her tight in my grip.

“You’re so sweet, Lillith,” I groan, wanting nothing more than to devour her entire being. I have to be inside her, need to feel her tight little pussy pulsing around my cock. “Fuck, I hate waiting.”

“Then fuck me.”

Her voice comes out barely above a whisper, but it rings as loud as a gunshot in my head. My fingers dig into her hips, and she lets out a little yelp. “I can’t.”

She whimpers, making it that much harder to keep my control. “Why not?”

“Because you’re not fucking ready,” I growl, licking up the length of her slit. “Your head is bleeding.”

The moonlight dances beautifully in her wide, awe-filled eyes. My senses heighten, and suddenly, I can see her pulse thrumming beneath her pretty pale skin.

“I don’t understand.”

“I’m not going to take you until you’re wearing my mark. Right here.” I pinch the spot at the top of her hip. “Do you understand now, Lillith? I’m not going to fuck you until you let me degrade you. To brand you as mine.”

“Why?”

“Because…” I pause, raking my teeth over my bottom lip. “I’m sick.” I lunge forward, taking her clit between my teeth. She yelps and tries to wriggle free, but I only increase the pressure. Eventually, she takes the hint and stops fucking moving. As a reward, I release the sensitive nub and insert a single finger into her dripping cunt.

“Your body is always ready for me, flower,” I murmur, giving her clit a gentle lick. “Crying to be taken. To be used like the good little slut you’ve always been.”

“Yes,” she whispers, twisting my hair between her delicate fingers as her hips buck. “Please, Kain, I’m so fucking close.”

“Say that you belong to me,” I demand, hooking my finger against her G-spot. She cries out and tries to push her needy cunt into my mouth, and I roll my eye. “Use your words, little flower.”

“I do,” she chokes, sounding seconds from tears. “I’m yours, Kain. All yours.”

I freeze, closing my eye against the sight of her beautiful body. I never thought something as simple as words could make me come undone. She’s driving me mad, and if I don’t get my shit together, I’m going to break and take her virginity on top of the dirty forest floor.

My cock throbs painfully against its denim confines. I want nothing more than to rip them off and have her right here and now. Fuck, it would be so much simpler if she wasn’t asking me to.

“Kain.” Her whimper sends a shiver across my skin, and I drag my eyes up to a delicious little pout playing at her lips. “I belong to you, Kain. Please, please, let me come.”

“As you wish.”

I wrap my lips around her swollen clit and suck at the same time my tongue swirls gently over the nub. Her body shudders beneath me, and she throws her head back into the dirt.

“Fuck!” she screams, riding my face to prolong her orgasm. Her fingers twist and pull at my hair, causing a delicious stinging sensation to radiate from my scalp. Fuck, I love when she hurts me. It’s damn near euphoric.

“Such a needy little flower,” I coo, gently sweeping my tongue over the sensitive button. Lillith whimpers, her body shuddering involuntarily as I continue to toy with her.

“Kain,” she whines, uselessly bucking her hips. “I can’t come again.”

“Shut the fuck up and let me eat your pussy,” I growl, pulling her impossibly closer to me. “I waited way too fucking long. I’m going to enjoy you.”

She gasps as I press my mouth into her, coating the entire lower half of my face with her arousal. I didn’t think she could drive me any madder, but then her thighs squeeze the sides of my neck, cutting off the blood flow.

“Fuck me,” I groan, the corners of my vision starting to dull. “Just like that, baby.”

Suddenly, her legs go slack, her knees falling open and hitting the dirt with a soft thud. It takes me less than a second before I’m up by her head, cradling her fragile little body to my chest. Shit. I shouldn’t have gone so hard.

“Little flower?” I whisper, nuzzling the tip of my nose against hers. “You awake?”

“Mmm.” A little moan slips past her parted lips, and I heave a great sigh. She’s okay. She just passed out. Wrapping her carefully in my arms, I stand and trudge back to the cabin. The creaking boughs and her soft snores fill the silence, but it’s strangely pleasant. It feels a lot less lonely out here.

She doesn’t stir until I place her down on the side of the tub, and even then, it’s like she’s half asleep. Her bottom lip juts out in a pout when I try to put her in the water, and before I can blink, she throws her arms around my neck like a vise.

“Lillith, what are you doing?”

“I wanna go to bed,” she murmurs, locking her ankles around my back. “I’m sleepy.”

“You hit your head, little flower. I have to clean you and make sure you don’t have a concussion.”

“Noo!” she whines, pushing her face into the crook of my neck. Her breath fans across my skin, and my cock roars to life. Fuck. She needs to stop doing that if I’m going to think straight. Also, she definitely has a concussion if she’s acting this goofy.

“We’ll go to bed right after, okay? Lillith?” I ask, my tone slightly more demanding when she doesn’t answer. “You want to be a good girl for me, right?” Her lips shift on my skin as she nods.

“That’s better,” I coo, kissing the top of her head as I lower her into the tub. “Just stay there. I’m going to grab a washcloth.”

I step over to the vanity, practically ripping the cabinet door from its hinges. I’m furious, but it’s with no one other than myself. I lost my fucking mind when I saw her there in the forest, all naked, bloody and helpless. I just couldn’t help it. I had to have her.

A loud splash echoes off the tile, and I swing my head over so fast I give myself whiplash. Lillith eyes are alight, her perky tits heaving with a giggle as she raises her arm above her head. Before I have the chance to stop her, she swings her arm down, sending bathwater spraying across the walls and floor.

“What the fuck!” I hiss, narrowing my eyes as her grin spreads. “Stop that, Lillith.” In response, she cups her hand and throws more water in my direction.

“Fuck me,” I groan, pinching my brow. “Are you drunk or something?”

“Cock drunk!”

I roll my eye. “I didn’t even fuck you, little flower.”

She frowns, her lips working their way into a mighty pout. “Oh.”

“Yeah, so—”

“We can fix that,” she whispers, her voice unusually husky as her eyes trail below my belt. “If you want.”

“Jesus fuck, don’t do this to me now.” I tear my gaze away from her, rubbing a hand roughly over my face. “I’m serious, Lillith. I need to clean you up.”

“Okay!” Just like that, she sits back, the picture of obedience. I eye her cautiously as I crouch next to the tub, but she doesn’t seem like she has anything up her sleeve. I wet the rag and reach across her for the bar of soap, and that’s when she attacks. Using a surprising amount of strength, she grips my forearm and hauls me face-first into the tub. Clothes and all.

When I resurface, she has that mischievous little smile carved onto her face. Her raven hair is slicked to her forehead, partially covering those brilliant emeralds I love so much.

“You are unspeakably beautiful, little flower,” I breathe, my chest constricting at the way her lids lower seductively. I’m not even pissed at her for pulling that little stunt. All I want to do is look at her, to memorize each delicate curve of her body.

“So are you,” she whispers, her fingers reaching toward the right side of my face. On impulse, I flinch back, but she’s far from deterred. The pads of her fingers brush my cheek, and a low hiss slips from my lips. I close my eye tight, keenly aware of my tortured skin pulsing beneath her touch. “Does it hurt?”

“No. I don’t feel much of anything,” I tell her honestly. “It feels like a whisper. Like the breeze of a hot summer night.”

“Oh.” She pulls away, but I grab her wrist and hold her there.

“Please don’t stop. It feels… nice,” I murmur, loosening my grip as she resumes her exploration. While she’s distracted, I lather the soap on the washcloth and raise it to her temple, dabbing away the dried blood and dirt. Her fingers trail over my permanent smile line, and she gasps as she realizes just how deep I was cut.

“Are you sure I’m not hurting you?”

I shake my head, a chuckle building in my chest. “Lillith, you’re saving me.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

LILLITH

My eyes go wide as Kain resumes his gentle dabbing, seemingly unbothered by the bomb he just dropped on me. Saving him? Just what the hell am I supposed to make of that? More importantly, why does it make me all giddy inside?

The room threatens to spin out of focus again, so I concentrate on the sensation of his skin beneath my fingertips. I need something to ground me.

My eyes trail over his inked skin and down his defined abdomen before resting on his very noticeable erection. I’m surprised he doesn’t pass out with all the blood it takes to get that thing up…

“Lillith.” My eyes pop at his groan, and I’m met with a hardened scowl as I look up. “Take your hand off my cock, now.” Oh shit. I let out a little gasp as I yank my hand away from his crotch. I didn’t even realize I was touching him.

“Sorry,” I whisper, casting my face downward so he doesn’t see the heat spreading across my cheeks. His hand reaches for my chin, and that’s when I notice his knuckles. I snatch his hand in mine, my earlier embarrassment forgotten as I inspect the wound.

“What happened?” I run my fingertip gently across the broken skin, careful not to irritate it further. “Did you get in a fight?”

Kain cocks his head, watching my face as I turn his wrist over and palpate the area for fractures. “Why are you doing that?”

“Doing what?”

“Taking care of me.” I jerk my gaze up, surprised. Kain’s face is blank, emotionless, like his question didn’t just drive an emotional stake through my heart. I tear my eyes from his face and focus back on the injury. “I need to clean this.”

“That’s not an answer.”

I pause, still not brave enough to look at him. “Maybe I don’t have one.”

His palm envelops mine, the calloused skin chafing mine slightly as he squeezes. “I think you do.” He lets go abruptly, taking my chin in his grip and pulling my eyes up to his face. “In fact, I know you do. I can read you like a book, little flower. Your pulse gives you away every time.” His fingertips caress my cheek and slide down my neck, pressing into the spot directly over the artery. “You belong to me, Lillith. Even if you won’t let yourself believe it. “

Without thinking, I lean down and press my lips against his knuckles. Kain hisses through his teeth, the muscles in his abdomen going taut from the slight touch.

“Maybe I have,” I whisper, my chest constricting with an emotion so powerful, it makes me dizzy. It’s like I can finally breathe, like I’ve been living in hellish shades of gray my whole life and never knew it. He’s made me come undone, sent my world spiraling into the most magnificent kaleidoscope of color. Now that I know what it feels like, I never want to return. All I want, all I need is to be here with Kain.

I trail my lips over each of the bruised knuckles, overcome with the need to taste him. I dart my tongue out, coating the tip with the sharp tang of copper and gunpowder. Kain moans low in his throat, the muscles in his forearm like steel rods as I put his index between my lips and suckle.

“Oh fuck,” he groans, tossing his head back against the porcelain. “You’re going to kill me.” Shyly, I peek up at him as I swirl my tongue around the digit, pulling another moan from his parted lips. Abruptly, he pulls it from my mouth and stands, sending a wave of bathwater crashing to the tile. He leans down, his fingers digging into my sides as he hauls me out of the water. Cradling my dripping body to his chest, he steps over the side and out of the bathroom, leaving a thick trail of water all the way to the bed.

He’s so gentle as he places me on the mattress that I begin to forget the violent, masked man who took me from my home. This man is so gentle, so impossibly deep and tortured. The two personalities can’t possibly exist at the same time. It hurts to think about, so I don’t.

Kain lays me down flat, holding his torso above me with an arm on either side of my head. I can’t hear anything over the violent thrumming in my ears, can’t think of anything but his lips on mine as he leans in.

He kisses me, and I let him. I don’t need to fight anymore, don’t need to pretend. I’m just as twisted and fucked up as he is. And God, does it feel good to admit it.

I’m vaguely aware of him ripping his jeans off. Then his mouth is back, hot and greedy and desperate like he’s trying to devour me.

“Tell me to stop, Lillith,” he groans, pulling back abruptly. “I can’t fucking control myself any longer. I need you to do it.”

“I don’t want you to,” I breathe, bucking my hips uselessly.

“You don’t understand,” he barks, his stare going cold. “You’re not fucking ready.”

“What? Why not?”

“Because”—he glowers, leaning down until his lips brush the shell of my ear—“I’m not just going to fuck you, little flower. I’m going to break you. Make you come so hard and so often that brilliant little brain turns to mush. Until all you’re good for is a wet hole to put my cock in.”

My throat bobs as he pulls back, a sick little smirk tugging at his lips. “Do you really think your virgin cunt can take all that?”

“How did you—”

“Apart from looking at you? I have my ways.”

I narrow my eyes at his stupid grin, a wave of stubbornness cresting in my veins. I want to prove him wrong. That he can’t break me as easily as he thinks. Most importantly, I want him to fuck me.

“I’m not as fragile as you seem to think,” I huff, crossing my arms over my chest. Kain’s expression darkens with a frown, and my arms are yanked above my head.

“I don’t like when you cover yourself,” he whispers, cupping my breast with his palm. “I need to be able to see every inch of you. How else can I worship this beautiful fucking body?” He twists my nipple, and I let out a little moan of pleasure. Kain hums appreciatively, dipping his head and running his tongue along the sensitive mound. “Are you sure you want to play, little flower?”

Against my last shred of self-preservation, I nod. Kain growls low in his throat, scooping me into his arms and stalking from the bedroom. Toward the hatch.

CHAPTER THIRTY

KAIN

I place Lillith onto the carpet, and her muscles stiffen beneath my touch. I’ve purposely kept the lights off, having an insatiable desire to hear her heart beating the same way it did that first night I took her. Her pussy is never as wet as when she’s truly and utterly terrified.

“Don’t move,” I order, moving soundlessly to the dresser at the far end of the room. Having spent so much time in the shadows, my eye easily adjusts to the lack of light, but even if I couldn’t see, I’d know where to find the items by touch alone. Pulling out the second drawer from the top, I grab the two items and stalk back to Lillith, pleased to see she hasn’t moved an inch from where I left her.

Such an obedient little toy.

“On your knees.” Her body shifts, and soon, her head is at the level of my bulge. Perfect. Her mouth pops with a question, but she doesn’t have enough time to voice it before the thick black mask is pulled over her head.

“Kain, what—”

“Shh. Don’t talk,” I murmur, pulling at the fabric so the single hole is aligned at her mouth. “I have a much better use for this pretty mouth. Open.”

The tautness of the mask makes it difficult, but Lillith manages to open wide enough for me to shove the pocket pussy in her mouth. She chokes, gagging on the sheer size of the object, but I refuse to let up until the thick cylinder hits the back of her throat. I step back, flipping on the light switch so I can get a good look at my toy.

Lillith’s fingers claw desperately at the mask, her brain instinctively trying to remove the object restricting her oxygen. I can hear her heart hammering across the room, and it makes me just as fucking hard as the first night.

“Fuck,” I groan, stripping my boxers and positioning my cock at the entrance of the lips. “You look so beautiful like this, little flower. Such a good little cock slut.” I shove my length inside, unable to help the low moan that springs from my mouth as the toy constricts painfully around my cock. Lillith’s fingernails dig into my skin, clawing at my hips in a useless attempt to push me off. I wrap my fingers around the back of her head, using the leverage to thrust violently in and out of her mouth.

“Fuck, you’re such a good girl,” I groan, pushing my hips flush against the toy as my release shoots to the back of her throat. “Oh, fuck yes. Take my cum like the good little slut you are.” Another moan pours from my lips as I pull my cock from her mouth, and her body goes slack beneath my grip.

“Shit,” I hiss, carefully pulling the pocket toy from Lillith’s mouth. Her chest expands with a huge gulp of air, and she keels to the side, choking on the sudden openness in her throat. I pull her limp frame to my chest, pulling the mask off and placing delicate kisses along her cheekbones until her eyes come back into focus.

“Welcome back, little flower,” I whisper, raking my teeth across her neck. “You did such a good job. My cock already wants more of you.”

“More?” she murmurs, her eyes partially lowered. I nod, placing her gently back on the ground. “I warned you, Lillith. I’m not going to be done with you until you’re a crying, drooling mess. Now get the fuck over by the cross.”

With wide eyes, she does as she’s told, her toned legs shaking slightly as she takes her position in front of the giant metal X.

“Spread your legs, Lillith,” I order, my chest brimming with something like pride as she obeys. After tightening the cuffs around her ankles, I step back to look at my handiwork. Lillith’s beautiful body is spread out like a starfish, each of her limbs held to an end of the X by thick leather cuffs. A soft whimper pours from her lips as I crouch down, my breath fanning over her dripping cunt.

“Such a needy little toy,” I whisper, delivering a sharp slap to her core. She yelps, trying to shy away from the pain. Luckily, the bindings make that impossible. I give her one last, far gentler slap before covering her with my mouth. My tongue darts out, massaging the angry, pulsating area until her whimpers of pain turn to pleasure.

“You were such a good girl for me earlier,” I murmur. “Does my little toy deserve a reward?”

Wordlessly, Lillith nods, her hips bucking forward in a desperate attempt to feel me again. “Please,” she whispers, her voice a low, breathy whine. “Please, Kain. I need you.”

“So fucking hot,” I groan, pushing my tongue deep inside her dripping pussy. I swirl my tongue against her walls, getting drunk off the taste of her arousal. Only when her core tightens do I pull away, a malicious smirk carved into the side of my face.

“Why’d you stop?” she whines, yanking weakly against her restraints. “I was gonna come.”

“That’s exactly why I did,” I growl, flicking her clit roughly. She yelps and tries to pull away, so I lean forward and nip the sensitive area for good measure. “Stop being such a fucking brat, Lillith.”

“I’m not—”

“Yes. You. Fucking. Are,” I growl, storming from her to grab something else from the chest.

“What is that?” she inquires, her eyes wide as she takes in the small metal branding tool in my palm.

I cock my head. “What do you think, Lillith?”

“I-I don’t know,” she whispers, the color draining from her face as I bring out a lighter and hold them up side by side.

“Any guesses now?” My lips part in a grin as her throat bobs, the flash of fear in her eyes telling me all I need to know. “This is the only way you get to have my cock, Lillith. Are you sure you want to do this?”

She looks me dead in the eyes, her face holding a fierce determination I hadn’t seen before. Then she nods. “I want to. I want you, Kain.”

My chest squeezes with pride as I press a button on the side of the device, holding the brand by the base until the tip glows with frozen heat. I step up to her and wrap my arm around her back, forcing her back to arch as I pull her abdomen flush against mine.

“Such a good fucking girl,” I whisper, placing a delicate kiss on the top of her head. Now that there’s space between her and the cross, I position the brand at the base of her hip, then press down. Lillith lets out a scream as the cold iron sears into her flesh, and the weight of her body falls in my arms as her knees collapse.

“Shhh. It’s okay, Lillith. You’re being such a good girl. Just a little longer, I promise,” I coo, rolling the brand in a circular motion to make sure my mark is good and deep. A whimper pours from her lips, but she never pulls away from the pain. She just fights through it.

I pull the iron away and inspect the small imprint at the top of her hip. The skin around the brand is angry and red, contrasting greatly with the perfect silver half-flame. My mark. My brand.

I run my fingers around the fresh scar, careful not to touch the actual brand. “How does it feel?”

“Like I’ve just been branded.”

I drag my gaze to hers, pressing my thumb directly in the center of my mark. She yelps, and her body jerks, fighting against the restraints to shy away from the sensation.

“I can do without the sass, flower,” I murmur, releasing the pressure and watching her sag with relief. “How does it feel?”

Her lips part with a ragged breath. “Like—I’m yours.”

“So much better,” I murmur, reaching down to undo my belt. I palm my cock, rubbing the head through Lillith’s folds. “I wonder…” I whisper, pausing to nip the base of her neck. “If there will ever be a time your pussy isn’t weeping for me.” She shudders as I run my tongue over the shell of her ear, and her hips buck forward, trying to push me inside.

“So impatient,” I purr, pressing my head against her entrance. “I’m going to come so deep in you, Lillith, you’ll never be able to get me out.”

Like someone dumped a bucket of water over her, Lillith reels back, her eyes clearing as she holds my gaze. “I don’t… I’m not on anything.”

A dark chuckle rumbles in my chest. I cup her face in my palm, rubbing a thumb over her cheekbone. “I’m snipped. You don’t have to worry about that.” Her face heats, and she blinks up at me. So sweet. So innocent.

So intoxicating. I need to feel her. Now. Now, now, now.

I shift against her entrance, watching her face closely for any sign of objection. That euphoric fog fills her eyes, and her hips buck forward, desperate to feel me.

“Please, Kain,” she begs, her head falling back against the bars. “I need—need to feel you.”

“As you wish,” I growl, pushing my length inside her. She lets out only a small whimper as I push into her for the first time, but she’s so fucking wet, so needy that she practically swallows me. “Fuck, Lillith,” I groan, finding the back of her walls.

A mewl pours from her lips as I move inside her, slowly letting her get used to the fullness. The sensation.

“Oh God,” she moans, arching her back to try to take me farther, to control how much I give her. “Fuck me, this feels so good.”

“So naive, thinking God can hear you down here,” I snarl, thrusting faster, drawing out her cries every time I slam into her fully. I reach down and find that sensitive nub, swirling my index around it gently and drawing a gasp from her.

“Yes, right there,” she breathes, her eyes rolling to the back of her skull.

“Fuck me,” I groan, fucking her faster as her walls begin to tighten. With one last gentle swirl, she explodes around me, her walls convulsing as she throws her head back with a scream that shakes the walls.

She’s beautiful. So, so beautiful. And that sound…

I come undone, letting out a guttural sound as I press against her back walls, filling her with hot ropes of cum. She shudders with every pulse of my cock, grinding her hips to draw out every last ounce.

“I think someone wants to be bred,” I murmur, digging my fingers into her hips as she squeezes my cock. “Fuck, that feels amazing.”

Her cheeks redden, and my cock twitches inside her at the sight.

She’s going to kill me. I finally have a taste of her, and all I can think of is more, more, more.

“Can we…?” she whispers, dropping her gaze. Apparently, she’s thinking something similar.

I grip her chin, forcing her gaze back up to mine. “Yes. As much as you want, flower.” I press a kiss to the side of her temple. “But right now, you need rest.”

Her mouth pops open—no doubt about to argue—but I shoot her a look that has her words dying in her throat. Satisfied, I tenderly kiss the apple of her cheek, one hand tracing gentle circles on her waist while the other works on the cuffs holding her wrists.

Her arms fall over my shoulders as I deepen the kiss, drawing a breathless moan that has my cock twitching to life.

Before I lose my last shred of control, I slip out of her pussy, ignoring her whine as I trail kisses down her abdomen. I pause at her core, lashing my tongue against that sensitive nub as I release her ankles. She doesn’t move when she’s freed except to arch further into my mouth, pleasuring herself on my tongue.

I wrap my lips around her, sucking gently as I press two fingers inside her, drawing an unbridled moan. I curl my fingers against her walls, still sucking and flicking my tongue over her throbbing clit.

Lillith screams as a second orgasm tears through her, so sudden and violent that she collapses against me, her entire body convulsing with her walls around my fingers. I whisper soothing nothings in her ear as I draw out her orgasm, slowing my circles and easing on the pressure.

“You’re so beautiful, Lillith. Such a good little toy.” I kiss her shoulder, up her neck, and along her profile, giving her something to let her know she’s cared for. Safe.

When she stops shuddering, I slide my hands from her, sucking her off my fingers before wrapping them around her hips again. Her cheek presses against my shoulder, and a satisfied sigh falls from her mouth as her eyes flutter in sleep.

I scoop her limp frame into my arms, cradling her to my chest as I take the stairs back to the main room. My heart swells as she wraps her arms around my neck, nuzzling her nose against the side of my neck.

After giving her a quick bath, I wrap her in one of my long-sleeved shirts and carry her to the bedroom. The thought of taking my hands from her nearly kills me, so instead of placing her onto the mattress like usual, I keep her in my arms as I clamber onto the bed. I pull the comforter over us, making sure it’s tucked under her back and legs like she likes it.

Right before she falls asleep, she looks up at me, those emerald pools wide and trusting. And then, her mouth tips in the smallest of smiles.

I watch her sleep on my chest, counting her breaths for a few hours before sleep curls its icy fingers into me. Right before I drift off, my phone buzzes from the nightstand, but one look at Lillith’s peaceful, sleeping face, and I turn it off.

Whatever it is, it can wait.

I hope.

CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

LILLITH

I wake to the soft glow of light peeking under the bathroom door, and a mighty yawn tears from my mouth. Instead of leaping out of bed like I normally would, I nestle deeper into Kain’s sheets, breathing in his addicting scent. With the lack of windows, there’s no real way for me to tell what time it is, but the aching in my joints tells me I’ve been asleep for far longer than usual.

I vaguely register the shower running in the distance, but the dull ache resonating from my hip shoots to the forefront of my mind. Tenderly, I prod the fresh white scar, a sick little smile tugging the corners of my mouth.

It’s cute. As long as I don’t think about the meaning behind it and the monster I’ve willingly tied myself to… it’s cute.

With a groan, I throw the sheet off and pad over to the door, pausing as my hand touches the cool brass. I’m dying for a cup of coffee, but I don’t know if anything’s changed after last night. If I’m allowed to… leave the bedroom.

I turn the handle, and to my surprise, it moves. Light from the living room floods through the crack in the door, but I don’t push it open farther. Because the shower has stopped running.

The hair on the back of my neck stands on end, and I know if I turn my head, he’ll be there. Watching me.

“Where do you think you’re going, Lillith?”

Adrenaline kickstarts my heart, and I yank my fingers from the handle. “Nothing. I mean, I was heading into the kitchen.” In two steps, he’s in front of me, water falling from his sculpted frame and making a puddle on the carpet. Kain cocks his head, taking me in with a unique intensity. I look to the side, my body uncomfortably warm with him so close and so…naked. Despite everything we’d done last night, I’m apparently not used to seeing the male frame in such a stark light.

“What for?” he asks, sliding a strand of my hair between his fingers. “Are you hungry? Thirsty?”

“The latter.” I reach up to straighten the line forming between his brows. “You don’t need to look so worried. I’m just dying for a cup of coffee.”

“That I can fix.” He leans down, brushing his lips against mine. “On the patio?”

I wrap my arms around his neck, and his skin shudders.

“Yes, please,” I whisper.

The cup warms my palms as I draw the lip to my mouth. I sip at the edge, careful not to burn my tongue from the urge to dump the contents down my throat. Ahhh. Precious bean water.

“I’m sorry, what?”

“Huh?” I jerk my eyes up, utterly surprised at what seems to be a genuine smile tugging at his mouth. “Did I say something?”

“Yes.” He cocks his head. “Bean water?”

My face heats the longer he stares at me. “I really thought I said that in my head.”

“So it seems. I like it. It’s… catchy.” His lips part, showcasing a row of perfectly straight white teeth. The sight catches me off guard, and it occurs to me that I’ve never actually seen him smile before.

“What’s that look for?”

“Who, me? Nothing,” I murmur, hurrying to take another sip of the surprisingly delicious brew. I wonder if he grows his own beans in that greenhouse over there. I’ll have to ask.

“I don’t like disobedience, flower.” His voice is a low growl that I have to strain to hear, but it still sends a chill through me. Sitting out here sipping coffee in perfect civility, I almost forgot what kind of man sits beside me. A ruthless killer with a paper-thin temper and a need to satisfy that bloodlust. I just happen to be the only thing on the menu at the moment.

“I was just thinking how I’ve never seen you smile,” I rush to explain. “I like it. It’s… nice.”

Kain cocks his head. “I didn’t realize I had. You bring out all sorts of interesting emotions in me, Lillith.”

“So it seems.”

I catch the hint of a smile out of the corner of my eye, but he says nothing more. We sit in silence for quite a while, listening to the pines creak and just enjoying each other’s presence. It occurs to me how lonely it would be, sitting out here with nothing but your thoughts and the chirp of cicadas to keep you company. For a normal person, it might drive them mad.

I shoot a glance at Kain. Then again, who’s to say it hasn’t taken its toll on him?

“You’re staring again.”

I quickly look away, forcing my face into one of innocence. “Was not.”

“I may only have one eye, Lillith, but I can see perfectly fine. Don’t lie to me.” He tries to keep his voice tough, but I can’t help but think there’s a hint of amusement there, too. “You ready to go inside?”

“Do we have to?” I tilt my face toward him with a pout. “It’s kind of nice out here. Less stuffy.”

His lip twitches. “You think my house is stuffy?”

“Are there any secret windows I’m not aware of?” I quirk a brow. “Because if not, then yeah, it’s stuffy.” At this, his eyes darken. Shit. Took it too far.

“Get inside, Lillith,” he orders, his pupil blowing as he stands from his chair. “Now.”

I clutch the lukewarm cup to my chest as I hasten inside. A moment later, the exit seals shut, and I’m trapped in the small wooden box once more. Kain presses into my back, circling his arms around my waist at the same time as he lowers his head to my neck. His teeth rake my skin, sending a shot of warmth to my core.

“You always smell so delicious, little flower,” he coos, his earlier temper nowhere to be seen. “So sweet. So innocent.”

I can’t help the giggle that pours from my throat. “I don’t think I can be considered innocent after last night.”

His teeth sink into my flesh, and I let out a gasp. “You have no fucking idea what you’re talking about, Lillith. We haven’t even scratched the surface of the depravity I’m going to introduce you to. You won’t even recognize yourself when I’m done with you.” He kisses the affected area sweetly, a contradiction to the filth pouring from his mouth. “Doesn’t that sound wonderful, Lillith?”

I nod, and Kain’s chest shakes with a chuckle. “That’s what I thought.” He swats my ass, causing me to stumble forward from the force. “You hungry?”

“I can eat.” I grin at him, hoping he doesn’t realize just how hard my heart is racing. It’s indecent. “What do you have in mind?”

“How do banana pancakes sound?”

My mouth drops. “You’re gonna make me pancakes again?”

“Unless you want something else.” He shrugs, stepping over to the fridge and pulling out a carton of eggs. “I can also make waffles.”

“Are you real?”

A smile tugs at his lips as he sets a saucepan on the stove. “I’ve often wondered the same thing about you.”

I lean against the counter, watching the muscles in his arms flex as he goes through the motions. The way his body moves is unlike any man I’ve seen. It’s like he’s gliding through space, each muscle fiber expertly primed for movement. It’s enchanting.

I’m brought out of my sickening swoon-fest by a soft squeaking noise. I whip my head to the corner of the room but can’t see anything past the thick leather armchair. Noticing my attention has shifted, Kain’s eyes follow my line of sight.

Squeak… squeak… squeak

“What’s that?” I look at him, wide-eyed. He removes the sizzling pan and cranes to hear. A small chuckle resonates through his body as he steps away from the stove and over to the corner. I stand frozen in place as he scoops a small white rectangle from the floor, tilting the face toward me so I can see.

A tiny mouse is plastered to the front of the glue trap, its pure white fur matted and grimy from the adhesive. The same little chirps spring from its mouth, though with slightly more force now that he’s suspended in the air.

“See? Just a mouse,” Kain states. He steps over to the counter and raises the trap above his head, and it occurs to me what he’s about to do.

“Stop!” I screech, leaping between him and the counter with my arms out wide. “Don’t kill him!”

He cocks his head. “Why not? It’s a mouse.”

“Yeah, but he wasn’t hurting anyone!” I cry, grabbing his strong hands and prying them from the trap. “Haven’t you ever been in a bad spot? Didn’t you wish someone would help you? Show you some kind of mercy?”

Kain tilts his chin at me, a strange emotion swirling in his silver eye. “Does it really mean that much to you?”

“Yes,” I say, my heart breaking at the thought of the little mouse stuck in the trap. Without a word, Kain takes the trap from my hands and disappears into the bedroom.

I stand in the kitchen, wringing my hands together. A few minutes later, Kain reappears in the kitchen with a small plastic tub. There appears to be a towel at the bottom, and as he nears me, I can make out the shape of the mouse nestled in the makeshift bed. He places the tub on the counter, then continues cooking like nothing happened.

I peer inside the bucket, noticing that in addition to the towel, he’s put a small saucer of water next to the sleeping rodent.

“You didn’t have to do all that,” I breathe, my chest brimming with emotion as I turn to face him.

Kain just shrugs. “You didn’t want it to die. It’s weak, so if I release it right now, it would have.”

I smile into my hand. “Are you always so morbid?”

“Yes.”

He turns back to the stove, and I take the opportunity to get acquainted with my new friend. Now that I can get a good look at him, I realize his coat isn’t white like I thought before. On the side of his cheek, a patch of black fur interrupts the rest of his beautiful coloration. I nearly squeal when I realize it’s perfectly in the shape of a heart.

“You are just the cutest,” I whisper, stroking his silky fur with the tip of my index finger. His little arms splay out to the side in a mousy stretch, and my heart melts. As I watch the little creature, my heart pangs as I remember the other animal I abandoned. Herb.

I retract my hand, sorrow turning the corners of my mouth downward. I hope Herb is okay and has managed to feed himself now that I’m not around to give him his breakfast.

“What’s wrong?”

I jump at Kain’s voice and turn to face him, my lips curved awkwardly in a forced smile.

“Nothing,” I say, causing Kain to narrow his eye.

“It’s not nothing. And I’m holding these hostage until you tell me,” he growls, placing a plate of steaming golden pancakes just out of reach. My stomach rumbles as the heavenly smell wafts up my nose, and for a moment, I forget about the sadness clenching my heart.

I didn’t realize how hungry I was…

“Tell me, and you get to eat.” Kain fixes me with a hard stare, and I loose a sigh.

“It’s just… I’m worried about my… pigeon.” I start to explain the situation further, then realize he knows every little thing about my life before. “I feel guilty for leaving him. And I’m… worried something bad happened to him. I don’t know if he’s getting enough food, enough water. I’m worried he might…” I can’t finish the sentence, can’t admit that there’s a strong chance my little winged friend is already dead.

To my surprise, Kain places a hand over mine, like he’s trying to offer me some comfort. “Would you like to see him again?”

I sniffle, holding back tears as I meet his tender gaze. “How? I don’t even know where he is.”

Kain just shakes his head. “You let me worry about that. Now eat up,” he orders, holding out a fork and knife and pushing the stack of pancakes closer. “You need to keep up your strength.”

Feeling slightly comforted by Kain’s promise, I snag the fork and dig in. “Aren’t you going to eat?” I ask, the words garbled past the heavenly mouthful of banana pancakes. Kain shakes his head, a sly smile playing at his lips.

“I don’t eat in the morning.”

“What? You made enough pancakes for a small family!” My eyes widen as I shove the fork past my lips. Fuck, these are good. Even better than the last batch.

“It doesn’t seem like you’ll have much trouble with the way you’re going.” He smiles, watching me stuff my cheeks. “I like watching you eat.”

“And I love these,” I moan, gesturing to the dwindling stack with my fork. “Did you sprinkle some crack in the batter or something?”

He shakes his head, looking like he’s trying to hold in a laugh. I’m popping the last bite into my gullet when his phone buzzes, causing his attention to shift from me for the first time all morning. His demeanor changes in a flash. What was once a relaxed, cheerful expression is replaced with the usual coolness as he reads the message.

“I have to go,” he barks, pushing the phone into his pocket. “Go to the bedroom. I should be back in a few hours.”

My chest constricts. I don’t want to be left in that room with nothing but my thoughts to keep me company. Not after I tasted the sliver of freedom this morning.

“Can I come with?” I ask, trying to keep my tone innocent. Kain freezes, taking me in with a furious expression.

“You want to try to escape.”

“No! That’s not it!” I cry, holding my hands up. “I just… don’t like being left here alone. It’s too… quiet.”

He cocks his head, taking me in with a guarded look. “You promise you won’t try to run away?”

“I promise,” I whisper, stepping into his chest. His arms fold around me, and I sigh, listening to the powerful thud of his heart. Truthfully, I don’t even know if I want to leave anymore. I was drowning before, going through the motions in hopes that I would eventually find some meaning in my life. Now that I’m here, in his arms, I’m starting to think this is what I was missing all along. Who I was missing.

A heavy sigh hisses from his lips. “Okay,” he says, sounding like he regrets it already. “You can come with me. But you will wear your collar, and you have to stick by my side.”

He turns me to face him, tipping my chin up to meet his gaze. “I mean it, Lillith. I need to be able to see you to make sure you’re safe. This is your first test, flower. There won’t be another, so don’t fuck it up.”

CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

KAIN

This is a bad fucking idea.

Lillith’s collar clinks delicately as I lift her from the bike and place her on the curb. The raucous cheers from the clubhouse try to call my attention away, but I can’t take my eyes off the way her skin looks in the soft red glow of the Hellfyre sign.

I should have left her at home. The guys will get one look at her and…

My fist tightens at my side. I’ve already proven that I can’t control myself when it comes to her. There’s no telling how many heads will roll if someone tries to make a pass at her. Or, God forbid, something worse.

“Kain? Are we going in?”

I look from the building to her, wanting nothing more than to drag her back to the cabin where I can keep her safe. She doesn’t belong in a place like this. She’s too good, too perfect. Too everything.

“Kain?” My heart squeezes at the way her bottom lip trembles. It’s like she knows what I’m thinking. That I’m seconds away from hauling her back to the middle of nowhere. She thinks she wants to understand me and my life, but she doesn’t have a clue in hell what it all entails. Still… she looked so damn excited a minute ago.

“Let’s go,” I murmur, adjusting my mask before taking her by the hand. She trails a step behind me, unable to hide the smile tugging at the corners of her eyes. “Stay with me, okay? These assholes don’t know how to act around a beautiful woman.”

Her cheeks flush, and she tightens the thin cardigan over her chest. “I’ll be okay.”

I sigh. “It’s more for my comfort than yours, little flower. I like to have you where I can see you at all times. That way, I can always protect you.”

This time, she gives me a nod, sliding her hand under my jacket. My skin heats wherever her fingertips brush, reminding me of all the ways I could be fucking her. Should be fucking her. A low growl tumbles from my throat as I think back to the text Bear sent me. If it was anything else, I would have blown it off. But I won’t sit back and let Onyx destroy the club. Merging with the Serpents is a surefire way to make sure that happens.

“Come here.” I hook my fingers under the space in her collar and give her a little tug. Her pupils blow, and I have to remind myself how much the club means to me. It’s the only thing that stops me from taking her right here.

Tearing my gaze from her, I yank on the brass handle and usher her inside, keeping my chest pressed to her like an overprotective guard dog. Placing my palms on either side of her waist, I guide her up to the bar, sensing the eyes of one too many slobbering bikers trained on my precious flower.

“Jesus, took you long enough to get here.”

I wheel my glare onto my supposed best friend, hoping he understands just how much willpower it’s taking not to slam my fist into his busted face. “I’m here now. Where are they?”

“Where do you think?” Bear’s chest expands with a sigh, and he jerks his gaze in the direction of Onyx’s office. “They’ve been in there all evening. I only found out because one of the guys took a liking to Carlotta. They’ve taken some pretty fucking severe measures to make sure you’re not included.” He narrows his eyes at Lillith. “Who is she?”

Before I have the chance to speak, Lillith turns her kind green eyes on the giant. “My name’s Lillith. I’m… Kain’s.” She barely utters the last part, but it rings as loud as a jet engine in my head. Kain’s. Mine.

I watch his expression carefully as he takes in my little flower. It’s only for a moment, but it doesn’t escape me the way his eyes darken with desire. Bear’s gaze dips to the thick leather collar around her neck, and it looks like his heart stops. “Kain, what did you—”

“I’ll explain later,” I bark, shooting him a warning glance over Lillith’s shoulder. “I need to talk to Onyx.”

“You won’t get far with her by your side.” He crosses his arms over his chest, shooting a nervous look at the raven-haired beauty. “They have the Huxley twins guarding the door, and there’s no fucking way they’ll let a non-member inside. Not even for the great and mighty Kain.” He sucks his teeth. “You’re better off leaving her with me.”

“Choke and die,” I snarl, pulling her impossibly deeper into my chest. “I’m not letting her out of my sight. Especially not with you.”

Bear rolls his shit-colored eyes. “Look, I’m sorry for the other night. I was trashed, moody, and out of my fucking mind. Now can we move past it already?”

I inspect his expression. “Carlotta got to you, didn’t she?”

He sighs, running a hand over his face. “She always fucking does.”

A smirk tugs at my lips as I extend a hand over Lillith’s head. “I forgive you. I’m not sorry for fucking up your nose, though.”

“Yeah. I figured.”

I turn my gaze to Lillith, spinning her in my arms so we’re heart to heart. Cupping her cheek, I gently guide her lips up to mine. She’s just as sweet as she always is.

“So fucking delicious,” I moan, pulling away so I can take in her expression. “You gonna be okay if I leave you with Bear, little flower?” At her look of hesitancy, I add, “He’s the only person in this world I trust with my life. He’ll keep you safe.”

“Okay,” she whispers, pressing up on her tiptoes to give me one last peck. It’s only for a moment, but the sparks that linger threaten to drive me mad with lust. As soon as I handle this bullshit, I’m taking her home and fucking her the way I’ve wanted to. The way I know she craves.

I tear my eyes up to Bear’s. “If I come back and someone has so much as breathed on her—”

“I got it.” He takes a step closer to Lillith. “Go do what you need to do.”

“I’ll be right back,” I promise, letting my fingers linger on her for as long as possible before I pull away. I stomp over to John’s office, pushing through the throngs of drunken bikers and groupies with rage cresting in my veins. How could he do this to me? To this club?

Just like Wes said, the carrot-haired twins stand outside the entrance, arms the size of tree trunks crossed over their chests in an attempt to seem tough. It would certainly work on anyone who didn’t know them personally.

“Marcus. Maxwell.” I give them each a gruff nod. Matching sky-blue eyes watch my approaching frame with caution. By the expression on their dumb faces, it’s clear someone has given them orders to keep an eye out for me. Well, John, if you wanted to keep me out so badly, you should have made sure there was at least one pair of balls between your guard dogs.

“Kain.” Marcus is the first to speak. Though obviously braver than his younger brother, he can’t quite hide the quiver in his voice. “You can’t come in right now.”

“Oh?” I cock my head at them, unblinking. “Why’s that?”

“It’s a closed meeting,” Maxwell snaps.

“Ah, so they are having a meeting in there. Thanks for confirming.” I turn my eye onto the younger one, having all the information I need to break him. “I’m assuming you weren’t supposed to tell me that. How do you think Onyx is going to repay you for that?”

Maxwell’s lip trembles, but before he can speak, his brother steps in front of him. “Leave him alone, Kain. You already fucking knew what was going on in there.”

“Oh, that’s not what I’m going to tell Onyx,” I lie easily, giving the brothers a shrug. “Besides, we both know the only thing he’ll care about is that you let it slip to the one person you couldn’t. He’ll never trust you with something again. You know that.”

“What the fuck do you want?” Marcus asks, never letting up his protective stance.

“I want you to step aside quietly and let me the fuck inside,” I growl, stepping up so we’re chest to chest. Leaning over to his ear, I lower my voice so his brother is unable to hear. “Onyx will forgive you eventually. If you want to live to see that happen, you’ll step aside like the dickless fuck you are.”

Marcus’s throat bobs, and without a moment of thought, he shuffles to the side to give me access to the door. I scoff, eyeing the two with disgust as I wrap my fist around the brass handle. Now here comes the hard part.

CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

LILLITH

I twist the gold chain around my thumb, watching my periphery as hordes of leather-clad men file through the doors. Some wear snakes on their sleeves, while the rest sport the same flames that Kain has on his jacket.

“Bear, who are the guys with the green sleeves?” I ask, turning my head slightly to look at him.

His brow shoots to his hairline. “Kain didn’t tell you?”

“He hasn’t really had a chance…” My face heats as memories of the past few days swirl in my mind. “I don’t think he’s happy about it, whatever it is.”

Bear scoffs, leaning back against the bar. “That’s an understatement.” He pauses for a moment, seeming to debate whether he wants to tell me more. “The guys with green sleeves are Serpents. They were our rival club as of yesterday.”

“And today?”

Bear shrugs. “From the looks of it, they’re part of the club now. Or at least, they will be if Kain can’t talk some sense into John…”

“Who’s John?” I ask, hoping I don’t sound too interested. I’ve been dying to know more about Kain’s life, and if I have to go through his best friend to get it, that’s what I’ll have to do.

“Our leader.” Bear shoots me a look of warning. “And the only person who uses his birth name is Kain. If you ever meet him, you’ll want to address him as Onyx.”

“Onyx… got it…” I gaze out at the muddled faces of the crowd. Some are laughing, sporting carefree faces, while others are locked in terse conversations, their heads bowed low. None of the men with flames so much as acknowledge their green-sleeved counterparts, and it becomes clear to me there’s some serious bad blood between the clubs. I sneak a glance at Bear’s face, and I know I’ll have to switch the subject if I want to learn anything more.

“How long have you known Kain?” A huff of air passes Bear’s lips, and though he tries to look pissed off, he can’t quite hide that little twinkle in his eye at the mention of his best friend.

“It’ll be twenty years this fall.” His boulder-shaped shoulders shake with a silent chuckle. “I can’t seem to get rid of his ass.” It’s clear there’s a deep, brotherly affection between the two, and it makes me smile.

“Did you know him before…?” I don’t need to finish the sentence, and the way Bear’s hot-chocolate eyes freeze over tells me all I need to know.

“Yes, I did,” he says. But it’s not enough—not nearly enough.

“When? Why?” I demand, my heart pinching at the knowledge of the pain he had to endure to get those scars of his.

He shakes his head. “He was sixteen. As for the why… Kain disobeyed the ex-leader of the Hellfyre Club. That’s all I can say.”

“But—”

“Please don’t push me. I’ve already said more than I should have.” He sighs, rubbing a hand across his face. “I know you’re curious, but Kain should be talking to you about this. It’s his story, after all.”

I almost pout but then think better of it and resign to stare out at the club in silence. My eyes trail toward the stage in the far corner of the room. I’m about to ask what it’s for before I notice the twin chrome poles. I’ve never actually been inside a strip club, but I’ve seen enough movies to know what they’re for.

“You wanna try it?”

I nearly jump out of my skin at the high-pitched voice that rings out next to my ear. Turning my head, I come face-to-face with one of the most beautiful women I’ve ever laid eyes on. She’s tall and lean, with gorgeous cherry-red hair falling over her shoulders in waves, clashing brilliantly with the blues of her eyes.

I’m so mesmerized by her aura that I almost forget she asked me a question. “I’m sorry. Try what?”

“The pole, silly. I saw the way you were staring at it.” She wiggles her manicured brows with an innuendo I can’t seem to grasp. “I can show you a few positions if you’re nervous…”

“Leave her alone, Carlotta.” Bear rolls his eyes. “She’s already spoken for.”

“Aw. That shouldn’t stop her from having a little fun.” Her lids lower seductively. “What’s your name, beautiful?”

“Lillith,” I murmur, and a strange warmth builds in my core at the way she’s looking at me.

“Lillith.” It’s only my name, but the way it rolls off her tongue makes it seem like she’s whispering something erotic. “Have you ever been with a woman, Lillith?”

“Okay! That’s enough!” Bear interjects, shooting Carlotta a warning glance. “Did I mention that she belongs to Kain?” Carlotta rolls her eyes but otherwise pays no attention to Bear.

“Would you like to?” she whispers, her painted lips quirked with a small, knowing smile. “Wait, don’t tell me. I’ll let it be a surprise.”

My mouth drops, but before I get the chance to respond, she saunters off toward the stage. “Catch you later, beautiful!” she calls, sending me a wink over her shoulder.

“Don’t even think about it,” Bear warns, crossing his arms over his burly chest. “That one’s trouble.”

“I wasn’t—”

“You were,” Bear deadpans. “As hot as she is, she’s twice as fucking crazy.” His voice lowers to a whisper. “Although, she’s nothing compared to you. Why the fuck you’re with Kain, I’ll never know…”

I can tell from the expression on his face I wasn’t meant to hear that last part, so I pretend I didn’t. Even if he’s Kain’s best friend, I doubt that would stop him from hurting Bear if he found out he was thinking those things. And though I have no romantic feelings for him, I would hate for something bad to happen to the one other person in my life who’s shown me kindness.

I glance toward the stage, unable to pull my eyes away as Carlotta strips away her T-shirt dress. Straps of leather encase her toned body, leaving very little to the imagination. She steps toward the pole, making direct eye contact with me as she wraps her leg around it and grinds.

From the corner of my eye, I watch as Bear slips a hand down to his crotch, trying to readjust his bulge discreetly as he watches Carlotta move.

“Damn,” he hisses, shooting a lust-filled glance toward me. “Maybe you should get up there.”

My eyes go wide, and Bear lets out a chuckle. “Relax. I’m fucking with you. Kain would literally string me up by my balls if he found out I let you dance in front of the whole club.” He drags his chocolate eyes over my torso. “On the other hand… it might be worth it.”

My throat is too dry to speak, so I simply shift my gaze back to the stage. A handsome blond man has joined Carlotta, though instead of working the pole, he stands behind her, smacking her ass appreciatively as she grinds against his bulge.

Suddenly, he steps back, yanking his jeans below his ass. He palms his cock, giving it a few gentle strokes before lining the tip against Carlotta’s asshole. My eyes go wide as he slams inside her, his groan of pleasure audible over the thrumming rock music.

“Doesn’t he care that people are watching?” I ask, my voice strangely husky.

“It doesn’t seem like it.” Bear hums appreciatively as a brown-haired man joins the blond on stage. He crouches in front of her, pushing his face into her pussy as the blond continues ramming her from behind.

My pulse races as I watch the brown-haired man stand, removing his jeans in a similar fashion to the first. He steps forward, lifting Carlotta off the first guy’s cock and wrapping her legs around his own waist. He pushes his cock inside her pussy, letting out a groan only slightly louder than the blond screaming for him to give her back.

The second man thrusts in and out of her mercilessly, drawing garbled moans of pleasure from the siren’s mouth. The blond argues for a moment more before stepping forward and aligning his cock against her asshole. As soon as the second man pulls her down on his cock, that’s when the blond enters.

The two men slam in and out of her in tandem, and Carlotta’s face twists in ecstasy. The sounds pouring from her mouth don’t sound quite human, and a wave of desire crests in my veins. I wonder what it would feel like if Kain fucked me in front of everyone.

The faint slamming of a door makes its way to my ears, breaking me out of my lust-fueled spell. I whip my head, watching the sea of people part down the middle to make room for Kain. The expression on his face is murderous, and though I know it’s not directly aimed at me, it still makes me shudder.

“Kain! Come back!” A man with salt-and-pepper hair charges after Kain, his head bobbing a foot above the crowd due to his sheer height. “Stop! We need to talk about this!”

“The fuck is there to talk about, John?” Kain seethes. His voice pierces through the space, eliciting the interest of several crowd members. Ah, so that’s Onyx.

“The decision’s been made.” Without looking back, he storms over to me and pulls me tight against his side. I can feel the anger rolling off him in waves, thickening the air around us. I’m dying to know what the hell happened in that room, but I know now is not the time to ask. Instead, I let Kain hold me, confident that he’ll tell me when he calms down. That is, if he ever does.

“We’re leaving,” he tells me, scooping an arm under my knees and picking me up off the ground. I don’t complain. Cradling my body to his chest, he makes his way through the crowd. We’re almost at the exit when a voice rings out behind us, cold and dripping with malice.

“Leaving so soon, Kain? Aren’t you going to introduce your little bitch to your new leader?”

CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

KAIN

I’m going to fucking kill him. I’m going to rip his tiny balls out and shove them down his throat. I’m going to—

“Kain? Are you okay?”

I peer down at my flower, my muscles unwinding as I take in her terrified expression. No. I can’t risk starting a fight with him now. She’d be in danger.

“I’m fine,” I tell her, pressing a delicate kiss to her forehead. Fucker is lucky she came along with me tonight. “Let’s go home.”

“I’m talking to you, Kain,” Callum calls, clapping my shoulder with his palm. “I hope Myers didn’t fuck up your hearing as well as your face.”

“Get your hand off me. Now.” I glower, turning to face the fuck. His shoulder-length hair is tied neatly in a bun at the base of his scalp, highlighting the sharp arches in his face. His eyes flit down to the beauty cradled in my arms, and her skin shudders. I need to get her out of here.

“Nice to meet you, darling.” He bares his teeth in a predatory smile. “My name’s Callum.”

“Your name’s going to be on a fucking headstone if you don’t shut up,” I snarl, tightening my grip. Callum shakes his head gently but never takes his gaze off her.

“I never thought I’d see the day,” he whispers, the hint of a smile playing at his lips. “You love her.” Lillith freezes in my arms.

It takes everything in me not to drag my dagger across his throat. “What do you want, Callum?”

He tips his chin. “You ran out of the meeting so fast. Without giving your respects, I might add. I needed to make sure you’re aware of your new place in this club.”

I narrow my eye. He’s testing me. Seeing just how far he can go before I endanger the beautiful little thing in my arms. What he doesn’t realize is that I’ll burn down this fucking city before I let anything bad happen to her. Him, Onyx, this club; they’re all so insignificant to me now.

Callum can go fuck himself with a cactus. “You’re not getting anything from me. And if you try, I’ll do the same thing to you that I did to Myers. Don’t fuck with me,” I snarl. Then I turn on my heels and storm out of the club, the echo of his cruel laughter ringing in my ears all the way to my bike. Lillith lets out a little squeak as I plop her onto the seat, but otherwise, she stays silent.

Good. I need complete focus in order to calm the raging beast in my chest. I slide in front of her, and she wraps her arms around my waist, sending a shudder through me. Her breasts press into my lower back as we speed away from the neon lights, and I have to stop myself from pulling over and taking her in the middle of the street.

I know exactly what will clear the storm in my mind. I just hope Lillith is prepared for it.

“Can you breathe through your mouth?” Emerald eyes widen as Lillith shakes her head back and forth, looking absolutely mouthwatering laid out on the table with her muzzle.

“Good,” I murmur, tightening the leather straps keeping her arms tied behind her back. It must be uncomfortable by the way she winces.

My fingertips slip between her thighs, dipping into her dripping cunt. “You like the pain.” It’s not a question, but Lillith nods all the same. Such a good fucking toy.

“Do you want me to fuck you like this, Lillith? To degrade you? To flood you with my cum like the desperate little cock whore you are?” Goose bumps run the length of her spine, but she doesn’t respond to my question this time. A surge of anger roils in my veins, and I let my aggression out by delivering a hard slap to her ass.

“I asked you a question, flower,” I growl, dipping down to message the angered skin with my tongue, “I suggest you answer this time. Do you want my cock inside you?”

Her head bobs, and my teeth sink into her skin. A muted yelp slips past the tape, and she tries to squirm away, but I hold her tight, increasing the pressure in my jaws until a distinct copper taste coats my tongue.

Lillith moans, relaxing into the pain and even pushing harder into me. “Why the fuck can’t you be this good all the time?” I groan, pulling away to admire the beads of crimson marring her perfect skin. “So fucking beautiful.”

I grab her hips and yank her to the edge of the table, positioning the tip of my cock at her entrance. My mouth waters at the sight of her glistening cunt, and I press the head inside. Lillith takes a sharp breath through her nose as her pussy convulses, stretching painfully to accommodate my size.

“Such a good girl,” I groan, my hips flush with her ass. Lillith lets out a garbled moan as I begin moving in her, pumping impossibly slow so she can get used to the fullness. “Fuck me,” I hiss, my control slipping as I slam into her with more and more force.

“Your pussy grips my cock so perfectly, Lillith. So fucking needy for my cum.” I lean forward, pinching my nose between my thumb and index finger. Her body bucks against me, instinctually fighting against the thing cutting off her precious oxygen.

“You belong to me, Lillith. Everything you have, everything you are.” My lips brush the shell of her ear. “Even your fucking oxygen belongs to me.” A shudder runs the length of her spine, and her walls convulse around my cock as she comes. I’m vaguely aware of her muscles going slack as I fuck her, slamming mercilessly against the back of her pussy as I near my own release.

I thrust once. Twice. And my cock throbs inside her with my release. A groan pours from my mouth as her pussy convulses around my shaft, drawing out every last drop of me. My pressure around her throat eases, and Lillith’s eyes pop open as she heaves in lungfuls of precious air, her body still shaking from the orgasm that ripped through her.

“You’re such a good girl, Lillith. You always take my cock so perfectly,” I whisper, rolling onto my back and hauling her onto my chest. I place tender kisses across her forehead and cheeks, my hands smoothing lovingly across the curves of her body.

Lillith rests her cheek on my chest, tracing the lines of my scars lazily with her fingers. I steal a glance, marveling at how heart-stoppingly beautiful she looks, naked and wrapped in my arms. I don’t know what this feeling is—like I swallowed a ball of sunlight, and it’s seeping out of every pore, warming my skin and flooding my veins with energy. And if I listen closely, I swear I can hear my soul sighing.

“Tell me something about you,” she whispers, trailing her fingers lower and making me shiver.

“What do you want to know?”

She chuckles under her breath. “Anything. Everything.” She peers up through her lashes, and when her eyes meet mine, a crack of lightning strikes my heart. “What was your childhood like?”

I almost let a laugh slip loose. “You want to know about my childhood?”

“Well, I already know your favorite color is black.” She gives a pointed look toward my all-black wardrobe, a teasing lilt to her sensuous mouth. “We’ve covered the basics. Now I want to know something real.”

I shake my head, pulling her impossibly tighter into my chest. “Before my mother died, it was good. We didn’t have a lot, but we were happy, and I never doubted her love for my father or me.” A bitter taste coats my mouth as the last word forms, and I try to ignore the roiling under my skin. “She came from an extremely wealthy family—ancient money—but they disowned her when she married my father. It didn’t stop him from using her last name to his advantage, though.” A bitter sound rumbles in my throat. “The Hellfyre name carries its weight in gold in this city, and he knew it. Hell, it was probably the reason he pursued her in the first place.”

When I finally look at her, Lillith’s eyes are the size of saucers. “Your family is the Hellfyres? As in, the steel moguls?”

I nod, resentment hardening my stomach. “Yes. Though it’s been decades since I’ve had any contact.” Or any that they know of, at least. My mind wanders back to Aunt Gladys’s cat-themed apartment I had utilized, and my skin crawls.

“Did they know…?” The rest of the question is on the tip of her tongue, though she doesn’t need to voice it for me to know what she wants to know.

“Did they know what my father was like? Yes. They preferred to pretend we didn’t exist. That I didn’t exist. If you asked them, they’d tell you they never had a daughter. They didn’t even come to the funeral, if that tells you anything.”

“Kain…” I’m sorry, is what she wants to say. I’m glad she doesn’t, thankful she doesn’t utter the two words with the power to break me. I can feel it when she says it, down in the marrow of my bones. She wants to take my pain away, like she’s tried to do with every other soul she’s come into contact with. It’s who she is, a creation of having to watch her parents be slain. She’s such a gentle soul, so good that sometimes I forget who I am. Fool myself that being in her presence will make me a better man.

“It’s been a long time, Lillith. I’ve had plenty of time to get over it,” I reach over, covering her hand with my palm. She doesn’t pull away.

“He’s the reason you’re… in the line of work you are.”

It’s not a question, but I nod all the same. “As soon as the nuptials were complete—once he was a real Hellfyre—he took to recruiting every piece of gutter trash in the city to do his bidding. Thus, the mighty Hellfyre Club was born. A year later, so was I, though it wasn’t until my mother died that he started… training me.”

“And your… scars?”

A puff of air escapes my lips. “Yes. He’s the reason for those as well.”

“Why?”

I freeze, pressing my lips to the top of her head. “You should get some sleep, flower.”

Thankfully, she doesn’t push. I guess I gave her enough information for her to drop the issue. For now. Throwing a leg over my waist, she nestles into the crook of my neck, the sensation of her wiggling against me almost too much to bear.

A few minutes pass before the steady rise and fall of her chest lets me know she’s asleep. I gaze down at my perfect little flower, and overwhelming emotion cresting in my veins.

“I love you, Lillith,” I whisper, so low I’m not sure if any sound escaped at all. “I love you.”

Her lips twitch, but thankfully, she doesn’t wake, doesn’t hear the words that have been swirling in my mind since the day I saw her in the hospital. She quivers with a dream, and I hold her tighter against my side, brushing her hair back with the lightest touch.

I wonder if this is just like the others or if she will finally remember.

CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

LILLITH

Red. Everything is red. My arms, my face, my parents' bodies lying beneath me. It's all red, red, red. My knees scream as the gravel digs into my skin, but I barely register the pain. It's so faint—barely a whisper as something clicks behind me. I squeeze my eyes tight, waiting for the inevitable moment I wake up screaming in my bed, but it never comes. I force my eyes open, helpless to do anything but stare at my parents’ lifeless faces.

"I'm going to fucking enjoy this, brat."

What is this? I reach down, taking my mother's blouse between my fingers. The fabric is still warm, drenched in the slick red fluid gushing from the hole between her shoulder blades.

Am I still dreaming?

"Say goodbye."

Bang!

I wait for the pain that comes with being shot to death, but it never arrives. Deaf to the powerful ringing in my ears, I jerk my head up. A teenage boy crouches over me, his face contorted as if in an immense amount of pain. His breathing is ragged, wet-sounding, and it's only when I tear my eyes from his handsome face do I notice the gushing wound to the right of his heart.

"WHAT THE FUCK DID YOU DO?"

The boy coughs, splattering droplets of warm red across my face. He cracks an eye open, an unspoken apology swirling in his silver iris. Eyes like the bad man's, but different. Beautiful.

The bad man's hand grips the boy's shoulder, attempting to pull him off me. "What the fuck is wrong with you, boy? Do you want me to kill your worthless ass too?"

The boy looks deep into my eyes, holding strong against the bad man's grip. Using his last bit of breath, his mouth opens with a command. It's too soft for me to hear, but I still make it out from the way his lips move.

“Run, little flower. Run.”

My body moves before I know what I’m doing. I tear across the pavement, numb to the tears spilling down my cheeks.

“I should fucking kill you! Useless fucking boy!” The sound of fists hitting flesh makes its way to my ears, and though it feels like I’m going to be sick, I never stop. My mind is breaking, tearing in half, desperate to forget what happened in that alleyway.

I run until my legs give out, then I run some more. I don’t know how I get to the police station. I have no idea if someone found me or if I made it there on my own.

The only thing I do know is when they ask me if the bad man worked alone, I lie. The police officer with the beer gut and shiny gold badge cocks his head, placing his hands on his hips like he knows I’m lying.

“You’re sure? There was no one else?”

“No one,” I whisper, the boy with the silver eye flashing briefly in my mind. “No one.”

“Lillith? It’s okay, little flower. You were having a dream.” Kain’s silky voice pours over my skin, clearing the confusion that comes with waking from a deep sleep. “You were shaking. I’m sorry I woke you.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” My voice is thick from the effort to hold back my tears. It all makes so much sense now. The familiarity that first night I saw him in the hospital. The way my body melts in his arms, somehow knowing they’re the same arms that protected me all those years ago. “Why didn’t you tell me you were the one who saved me that night?”

Kain’s hand slips from my cheek and lies ominously across my throat.

“You remembered,” he whispers, his fingers tightening around my windpipe. “I was starting to wonder if you ever would.”

“Why did you do it? Why did you save me that night?” I sob.

Kain presses his lips to my temple, a low growl rumbling deep in his chest. He stays silent for so long, I begin to think he’ll never answer my question. When he does speak, it’s with a tone I don’t recognize. One that reminds me of that silver-eyed boy in the alley.

“I couldn’t let him take you from this world. When I saw you jump in front of your father…Those eyes…” He sucks in a breath. “You were so brave, even all those years ago. How could I not take a bullet for you?” he murmurs, twirling a piece of my hair between his fingers. “Do you hate me?”

“Hate you? No, I don’t. I can’t,” I whisper, the tears falling freely from my eyes. I don’t know why it took me so long to remember it. Maybe it was too traumatic, and I blacked the memory out. Or maybe, just maybe… I was trying to protect that boy with the silver eye. “How could I ever hate you?”

“My father…”

“You’re not your father, Kain.” I reach up, trailing my fingertips over the thick scar on his cheek, “I don’t blame you. You were only a child yourself. You did what you could, and I’m alive today because of it.”

He sighs, pressing his forehead to mine. “I don’t deserve you, Lillith. No fucking man on this earth does.” His voice lowers to a whisper. “But I’m selfish. And that’s exactly why I can never let you go, no matter how much better you deserve.”

“Good.” I brush my lips against his. “You’ve ruined me for any other man, Kain. You and that sinful cock of yours.”

For the first time since I’ve known him, Kain laughs. It catches us both by surprise, but I can’t deny the way that joyous sound fills my veins with warmth. The more time I spend with him, the less I miss my old life of monotony. Only his touch can make me feel alive, and I have no intention to deprive myself of that anytime soon.

Kain’s fingertips trail over the curve of my hip, causing a shooting pain to radiate from the freshly branded skin. I suck in a sharp breath, squeezing my eyes tight as he continues rubbing the area. It hurts like nothing I’ve felt before, but I push further into it rather than shying away from the sensation. The brand is a reminder of how thoroughly I’ve given myself to him, and I’ve never been happier about my decision. I’m his, and he’s mine. If I had to do it all over again, I’d do it all the same. Just like the sick little fuck Kain always knew I was.

“Penny for your thoughts?” Butterflies spring to life in my belly at the smirk that greets me. He’s so handsome when he smiles. I really wish he’d do it more often.

“It doesn’t come easy for me, little flower. But for you, I can try.”

My face heats as his grin widens. “I didn’t mean to say that out loud.”

“I’m glad you did. I want to know all your thoughts, Lillith. What makes you tick. What makes you feel alive. All the dirty, depraved fantasies you have hidden in that pretty little mind of yours.” He presses his lips to my temple. “I’ve only just scratched the surface of my precious flower.”

Butterflies spring to life in my belly as his hand trails down my abdomen. My breath hitches, and I close my eyes as I wait for the pleasure only he can give me. It never comes.

A whimper tears from my throat as he pulls away, leaving my skin cold and needy. His lip quirks as he stares at me, and for the thousandth time, I wonder what on earth he’s thinking.

“I’m going to make some breakfast. Feel free to use the shower if you’d like,” he murmurs, his jaw tensing as his eyes flick to my thighs. “Although… you do look especially beautiful covered in my cum.”

My face heats as I throw my legs over the bed. “I think I will take that shower, now that you mention it.” Kain swats my ass as I pass him on my way to the bathroom, and I let out a little yelp from the force.

“That’s my good girl,” he murmurs, his gaze following me the whole way. “I’ll be in the kitchen when you’re done.”

I wrap my hair in the plush white towel Kain laid out for me and step out of the bathroom, breathing in the heavenly scent wafting in from the kitchen. I stop by the little tub in the corner of the room and reach inside, giving Gerald some morning head scratches. His little nose twitches, and he reaches up with those itsy paws, clinging to my finger.

“You’re so fucking cute,” I whisper, giving him one last scratch before straightening and heading into the kitchen. Kain stands in front of the trove, his head bent low in concentration as he flips one of the golden cakes. I step behind him, quiet as a mouse in the fuzzy socks Kain gave me.

“Pancakes again?” I whisper, reaching up on my tiptoes to press a kiss against his shoulder. He turns his head, giving me a tiny smile as he flips one of the perfect circles.

“I haven’t seen you eat anything but. I wasn’t taking any chances by trying something new.”

I grin, wrapping my arms around his abdomen. “You know, you’re pretty cute when you’re not being all murderous.”

He barks a laugh. “I’m assuming that’s supposed to be a compliment?”

“A big one.” I give him one last peck and pull away, stepping over to the steaming pile of pancakes. I shoot a glance at him out of the corner of my eye, making sure he’s not looking as I snatch one off the pile and shove it into my mouth.

“I saw that.”

I turn to him, barely able to speak past the pastry filling my cheeks. “-ou thaw nufin.”

He quirks a brow, placing a fresh pancake on the stack. “You’re right. It’s exactly like it was before.”

I swallow and reach for another, a cheesy smile lighting my face. Just as I’m about to take a bite, Kain’s phone buzzes, killing the good mood. He skims the message with a frown, looking like he’s seconds from crushing the device in his palm.

“Fuck,” he hisses, reaching to turn off the stove. “I have to go.”

“What? Why?” I step closer to him, my chest squeezing with the thought of being apart from him. “What happened?”

“Club stuff,” he groans, rubbing a hand across his face. “There’s a celebration tonight for the merger. I have to go over early to swear the new members in,” he snarls, his face darkening at the thought. “Don’t worry. I’m not staying for the celebration. I don’t want to be away from you a second longer than I have to be.”

“Oh? Really?” I muse, trying to keep the excitement out of my voice. I’m dying to see some friendly faces, and I’m sure Carlotta and Bear will be there. “It sounds kind of important. We could always… go together?”

Kain takes me in with an inquisitive expression. “You want to go, don’t you?”

“That’s not—”

“Relax, little flower,” he coos, pulling me into his chest. “If it’s something you want, all you need to do is ask. I belong to you as much as you do to me. If it will make you happy, I’ll do it for you.” He presses his lips to the top of my head. “I’ll pick you up here in a few hours after the ceremony. Sound good?”

I nod, unable to keep the grin off my face. “Sounds perfect. I’ll wait in the bedroom.”

He shakes his head slowly. “No. I have a better idea.”

My mouth pops with a question as he scoops me into his arms, but it dies in my throat when I realize he’s taking me toward the hatch. What the hell is he planning?

The descent feels a lot longer than it should while cloaked in total darkness. I only know we’ve reached the bottom by the sound of Kain’s feet hitting the carpet. He places me face down on some hard surface, and my heart speeds up. I don’t need to see it to know I’m sitting on top of the fucking rig I saw the last time I was down here.

“Kain? What are you—?”

“Don’t talk, Lillith.” His fingertips dig into my sides as he yanks my hips to the edge of the table. “Remember, pleading won’t help you.” Placing the butt of his palm between my shoulder blades, he holds me down while pulling a thick leather strap over my back. Once he’s sure of my immobility, he pulls his hand from my back and grabs my wrists, securing them behind my back in a similar fashion to the other night.

“You look so beautiful, Lillith. Now open your legs like a good little slut.”

My heart hammering, I do as he orders. His palm connects with my ass, and I yelp, my body instinctually shying away from the pain.

“Bad,” he growls, prying my ankles farther to the side. Kain wraps a strap around each ankle and pulls tight, causing a hiss of pain to escape my lips as the leather digs into my skin. “I was going to go easy on you, considering it’s your first time. But then you had to go and disobey me.”

“I didn’t—”

“Pulling away from a correction is disobedience, Lillith,” he growls, trailing his fingertip up my thigh. He dips a finger inside me, and I moan as he curls it toward my G-spot. Just when the heat builds, he pulls out of me and stands. In the next second, his fingers are in my mouth, the taste of my own arousal coating my tongue.

“Do you like the way you taste?” he murmurs, his voice hoarse with desire. “I have dreams about it. I’d bury my face in your sweet cunt and eat for days if I had the time.”

His silky promise sends a shiver down my spine. Kain chuckles, no doubt realizing the extent of the effect he has on me. “You’re so quiet now, Lillith. Is this your way of showing me you’re ready to be a good girl?”

I nod, my throat too dry to speak.

Kain lowers his lips to my ear, dragging his tongue over the shell. “Too fucking bad.”

He pulls away, and the next time I feel him, he’s rubbing a palmful of something cold and slick around my pussy. He dips two fingers inside, coating my walls with the fluid while his thumb rubs gentle circles around my clit. A machine whirs far away as Kain draws moans of pleasure from my parted lips, too lost in the sensation of his stroking fingers to care what’s about to happen.

He pulls away from me, and I’m about to protest when his voice fills the space.

“Just relax, little flower. It’ll be easier that way.”

I gasp as something hard presses at my entrance, its head resisting for a moment before plunging deep inside my pussy. A garbled cry pierces my ears, and it takes a moment before I realize it’s coming from my own mouth. The dildo thrusts in and out of me relentlessly, the unearthly girth of it filling me past the point of comfort.

“Kain!” I scream, my walls convulsing around the toy. He doesn’t answer, but another vibrating sound joins the whirring of the sex rig.

“Relax, Lillith,” he orders, palming my ass roughly. He slides a hand under my abdomen, lifting me from the table just enough to position another vibrator at my clit. As soon as the violent thrum touches me, I explode, deaf to the scream that tears from my throat as the orgasm rips through me.

The high lasts only for a moment. As soon as I come down, the vibration paired with the brutal fucking is too much for me to bear. I wriggle against the straps, trying in vain to offer my sensitive clit some reprieve.

“Kain, please!” I squeal, though I already feel another orgasm cresting. “It’s too much!”

“I know.” He smacks my ass one last time, and tears prick my eyes as his footsteps retreat in the direction of the stairs.

“Kain!” I cry. “Kain, don’t leave me like this!”

My walls convulse at the same time the hatch slams closed.

CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

KAIN

I throw my leg over the bike, bile rising in my throat at the sight of all the green-tinted bikes parked to the side of the Hellfyre Club. I can’t fucking believe I had to leave Lillith for this.

Not wanting to waste another moment sober, I storm inside and head straight to the bar, ignoring the dumbfounded looks that follow me.

“Can I have one of those?”

I glance at Wes out of the corner of my eye. Without a word, I shove my whiskey-filled glass at him and make another for me.

“What? You’re going to give me the silent treatment?”

“I don’t have anything to say.”

“Bullshit.” Wes crosses his arms with a glare that’s meant to be intimidating. “You think I’m happy about this? You think I wanted us to join with the fucking snakes?” His nose crinkles in disgust. “I’m just as pissed about this as you are. But we can’t do anything about it, so what’s the use in being upset?”

I turn to face him, my fingers tightening around the crystal tumbler. “You can’t do anything about it. This was my father’s club long before John got his greedy fingers in it. I have a fucking obligation, and I’m not about to let Callum and his groupies push me out.”

“So what’s the plan?”

I slam the drink back in one swallow. “Play nice until I find a way to undo the shit John’s done.”

Wes cocks a brow. “Don’t look now, but his highness is making a beeline over here.”

“Fucking Christ,” I hiss, palming the bottle and taking a swig. “What’s up, Onyx?”

“Don’t give me that tone,” John barks, his crystal eyes shooting fire. “After the way you stormed out of here last night, I expect a fucking apology.”

“You’ll be waiting a while.” I give him a cold stare. “I’m not apologizing to the bitch who tried to hide the merger from his second-in-command.”

“I had to do that, and you know it!” John bellows, thrusting an accusatory finger in my direction. “I was trying to clean up the mess YOU made. That’s right, Kain, I know all about what you did to Sandra.”

I scoff. You don’t get in bed with your enemies. You put a piece of lead between their eyes. John seems to have forgotten that. “So you solve the issue by bending over and taking a big slimy Serpent cock up the ass? Good to know what kind of leader you turned out to be.” John’s face heats with rage, but he doesn’t say anything.

“Yeah. That’s what I fucking thought.” I give John a condemning scowl. “Callum’s already made you his bitch.”

John steps toward me, looking like he’s going to swing. Wes shoots an arm out, holding him back while giving me a look of warning.

“I thought you were going to play nice?” Wes hisses, his forearm straining from trying to hold back the furious giant.

I shrug, taking another swig from the bottle. “This is me playing nice.”

“You don’t realize what you’re dealing with,” John sneers, shoving Wes’s arm away with a crazed look in his eyes. “You thought Myers was bad? You have no idea who Callum Beck is. What he turned out to be.”

It must be a trick of the light, but I swear John lets out the tiniest shudder. I step toward him until we’re chest to chest, lowering my voice so he’s the only one who can hear.

“What the fuck does he have on you, John?” I ask, examining his face closely. A flash of fear lights his irises, and for a moment, it looks like he’s going to tell me. Then he steps back, his usual confident expression back in place.

“Just promise me you’ll behave around the new recruits today. Can you do that for me, Kain?” His tone is meant to sound confident, but the nervous twitch in his jaw gives away his real feelings. He’s not asking me. He’s begging.

I keep my expression neutral so Bear doesn’t pick up on anything suspicious. “I’m still involved in the ceremony?”

“Callum insisted on it.” John shoots me a nervous glance out of the corner of his eye. “If that’s going to be a problem for you—”

“That’s fine.” I hold up a hand for him to wait while I finish off the rest of the bottle. “Let me know when you’re ready to start.”

John jerks his chin toward the office. “I’ll round up the recruits. Be ready in five.”

“Do you pledge your life, your blood, and allegiance to the Hellfyre Club?”

The sandy-haired boy crouched at my feet nods. “I do.”

He offers his hand, and I turn it palm-side up, dragging the tip of my dagger across the fleshy pad of his thumb. The boy hisses as I pinch the skin, causing droplets of blood to fall from his thumb and fill the golden compact below. As soon as the slim case is filled, I snap the lid closed and hand it off to a member for storage.

Some clubs use different methods to ensure absolute loyalty from their recruits, but this is the best way I’ve found. The cases of blood at the club’s disposal serve as a brutal reminder to anyone contemplating treachery. Unless they want their DNA to be found at some grisly crime scene, they’ll obey the club’s every wish.

It’s amazing what the threat of the chair will do to some men.

“Memento mori,” I mutter, dragging his bloodied thumb over his forehead in a circle.

“Memento mori,” he parrots, standing and giving me a bow before taking his place in line with the others.

John moves to stand, but Callum beats him to it, stalking to the center of the room with his arms spread wide.

“Welcome, boys…” He jerks his dark eyes toward me and gives a little smirk. “Welcome to the Hellfyre Club.”

He swivels to face Onyx, giving him a wink as he motions for him to join him on the floor. “Thanks to my fearless co-captain, an unprecedented event has occurred today. The years of war between our clubs have come to an end.” Onyx takes his place next to Callum, looking more than a little anxious. Callum claps him on the shoulder, his teeth bared in a predatory smile.

“John—my friend, my fellow leader—this wouldn’t have been possible without your demented ass. When you first came to me with the idea, I admit, I thought you finally lost your mind.” A couple of the recruits scoff, and Callum’s grin grows. “No, seriously! The Serpents and the Hellfyres joining forces? It’s fucking absurd!”

Raucous cheers spring from the line of young boys, and it takes everything in me not to step in. Fucking brats need to learn some respect. Callum holds up a hand, but the shit-eating grin on his face only incites more laughter from the recruits.

“Listen! Listen!” he calls, the laughter palpable in his voice. “While it might be crazy, it’s happened. And the Serpents are all the better for it.” He turns to me, his eyes narrowed in a menacing way that doesn’t match the rest of his expression. “We’ve agreed to let bygones be bygones. Right, boys?”

My fist tightens as the boys murmur their assents, seeming far less excited than a moment ago. John hasn’t fixed a fucking thing. The hate between us runs far too deep, and he’s a moron if he thinks this will be the end of the club’s troubles.

John clears his throat, looking slightly green. “Welcome to the Hellfyre Club.”

Callum’s black eyes shine as he grabs John in a side hug. “You heard him, men! It’s time to celebrate!”

Boisterous cheers break out across the room, and I watch hordes of men file out of John’s office with excited grins on their faces. If everyone can agree on one thing, it’s a fucking party.

One of Callum’s men calls him to the main room, and he flashes those disgusting teeth before prowling outside. I can feel John’s gaze, but I refuse to meet it.

Traitor. Worthless, spineless traitor. He deserves to die. Die, die, die.

“Are you joining the celebration tonight?”

I pick a spot on the wall and focus on breathing.

In. Out. In. Out.

“Kain?”

I turn, meeting his baby blues head-on. “Yes.”

He looks unnerved by my answer but still asks, “Will Lillith be joining you?”

I fix him with a stare that has him cowering. “How do you know her name?”

John looks off to the side like he’s making sure he has a witness if I snap. “Bear… he’s mentioned her a few times. I think she made quite an impression on him.”

I’m not sure what he’s trying to insinuate, but I’m not having it. “What are you trying to tell me?”

“Just that I think you should be careful. Bear’s… he hasn’t been himself lately. Drinking too much, snapping if you so much as look at him wrong…” He fixes me with a hard stare. “He’s starting to remind me of you.”

I stare back, unflinching. “Is that such a bad thing?”

He blinks. Once. Twice. Then he turns on his heel and stalks to the exit. “I’ll see you tonight, Kain.”

I watch his back, his words playing on repeat in my mind. I’ll have to talk to Wes tonight—a real talk to find out what’s going on with him.

An alarm buzzes, and I yank my phone from my pocket. Fuck, it’s already been an hour.

I swipe to the cameras I have installed in my basement, my cock twitching at the sight of Lillith strapped to the table, that small pink dildo thrusting in, out, in, out.

I’ll worry about my friend later. Right now, I have to take care of my flower.

CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN

LILLITH

My body shudders as a wave of pleasure fills my veins, and my body goes limp on the table. I’m not sure how many orgasms I’ve had since Kain left, and some part of me never wants to know, just wants more.

The ringing in my head is so loud that I don’t notice the sound of the hatch creaking open or the soft sound of boots against the carpet.

“Hello, flower,” a voice coos. My core tightens, reacting to that low, rumbling tone. A callous hand tightens on my ass, spreading me to get a better look at the arm thrusting in and out of my used pussy.

“Still wet. Insatiable little thing,” he murmurs, a hint of pride lacing his tone. He turns the machine off at some point, though it takes me a moment to register. Kain works swiftly, undoing the straps holding me to the table, then scoops me in his arms, holding my limp body close to his.

“I love watching you come,” he groans, pressing his face into my neck. “You look beautiful on camera, Lillith.”

My heart races as I think about him watching me in the basement. What depraved thoughts ran through his mind, driving him mad. I place my palm over his heart, smiling at the violent thrumming that mirrors mine. Power. That’s what it feels like to have that kind of effect on a man like Kain. Raw power.

“Don’t look at me like that,” he growls, tightening his arms as he takes the stairs. “If you still want to come tonight, we need to get you in the bath.” His fingers tighten on my ass as he adds, “Unless you’d like to go like this… I wouldn’t mind that at all.”

My cheeks redden as I smack his arm. “I’m going to go with the bath, thank you very much.”

His chest rumbles with a silent chuckle. “I had a feeling you’d say that.”

A shudder runs the length of my spine as I look up at the neon sign blinking through the main window. Hellfyre Motorcycle Club.

“You look beautiful,” Kain muses, and I jump as he drapes his leather jacket over my shoulders. While it barely fits his massive biceps, I’m practically swimming in the heavy material. The bottom of it brushes my kneecaps, highlighting the sheer height difference between the two of us.

“What’s the point of the dress if I’m going to cover it up with this?” I grumble, rolling up the sleeves to free my hands.

“What do you think the point is?” He grips my chin, pulling my attention back up to him.

“So people will know I’m yours?”

Kain nods slowly, the ravenous look in his eye sending a shiver down my spine. “Good girl. Now stop fucking with the jacket and follow me inside. You remember the rules?”

It’s my turn to nod. “Stay away from the guys with green jackets. If anyone looks at me weird, I let you know.”

“Immediately,” Kain adds, a warning glint to his light iris. “They know not to fuck with what’s mine, but their tiny fucking brains tend to stop working after a couple of drinks. I promise to keep you safe, Lillith. But I can only do that if I know what’s happening. Agreed?”

I nod, trying not to swoon at the fact he just referred to me as his. I love it when he does that; it makes me feel like I really belong somewhere. Like I’m home.

“I’ll be good. I promise.” I reach up on my tiptoes to kiss his stubbled jaw. “Can we go in now? Pretty please?”

Kain’s chest vibrates with a low growl, and he wraps an arm possessively around my back. “Let’s go,” he murmurs, leading me inside with a hand glued to the small of my back.

The sharp tang of motor oil and liquor assaults me as soon as I step inside the club. Club members and women in various states of undress move on the dance floor to the tune of some sultry rock song. The sight causes something to stir in my core, and I instinctually press further into Kain’s side.

“You say the word, and we’re gone.”

With a jolt, I look up to see Kain staring at me. The tenderness in his gaze makes my heart constrict, and I force my shoulders back. He’s worried for me, and that’s exactly why I have to be brave. The second I show weakness, he’ll whisk me back to the woods.

“I’m fine,” I say, reaching up to palm his stubbled cheek. “I could use a drink, though.”

He nods, leading me toward the bar with one hand on the small of my back. His eyes scan the crowd with a predatory sheen, glaring down at anyone who so much as glances at me.

“You know, you’re going to make every guy in here shit himself if you keep doing that.”

“Good,” he growls, pulling me tight to his side. “What do you want?”

“Um…” I stare at the wall of liquor with trepidation. “Whiskey?”

He raises a brow, shrugs, then turns to the bartender and holds up two fingers. “Two doubles.”

Once we have drinks, Kain leads me to the corner with a semi-circle of leather armchairs. I’m about to take the seat next to him when he grabs my arm and hauls me onto his lap.

“Kain!” I squeal, trying to keep my drink from spilling all over him. “What the hell?”

“You smell so good, little flower,” Kain groans, ignoring my question as he nuzzles the side of my neck. “Good enough to eat.” I let out a hiss as his teeth dig in, trying not to notice the crowd staring at us.

“Kain,” I whimper, shifting in his lap. “They’re watching us.”

“Good.” His tongue lashes out. “I want them to see that you’re mine.” His palm finds my inner thigh, and I close my eyes as he works his way to my core. “There’s a reason you weren’t allowed to wear anything under this dress, Lillith.”

“Need any help?”

My eyes fly open to the sight of Carlotta’s suggestive grin, and heat creeps up the back of my neck. My thighs squeeze closed on Kain’s hand, attempting to stop him from going any farther.

“As a matter of fact, no.” I can’t see the look on his face, but his tone is anything but amused. “Open your fucking legs.”

It takes me a moment to realize he’s talking to me, and Carlotta’s smirk widens as my body obeys.

“She’s so submissive. Are you sure she can’t play?” Her tongue wets her lower lip as she trails over my curves. “I could even let you watch her come on my tongue.”

“You’re so fucking full of it.” Kain’s tone is an eye roll. “Don’t you have anyone else to bother?”

“Not anyone near as interesting, but I’ll manage.” Her eyes twinkle as she finds my gaze. Leaning in, she plants her lips against my cheek, and I freeze as goose bumps race across my skin. She’s so… soft. Now I understand why Kain likes the sensation of my lips against his jaw.

“Enjoy yourself tonight, baby. Come find me if you get bored with this one.” She winks, and then she’s gone, swallowed by the crowd. I stare at the spot she used to be, overcome with a whirlwind of emotions I’m definitely not capable of dealing with right now.

Without thinking, I pour the contents of my glass into my mouth. The amber flame hits like nothing I’ve felt before, and tears blur my vision as I attempt to choke it down.

Instant regret.

Kain rubs my back, soothing the powerful urge to cough. “You know, if you want to feel her tongue on you, all you have to do is ask, flower.”

This time, I keel over in a fit. “W-what did you just say?”

“You heard exactly what I said.”

“But I—”

“Shh, come here,” Kain murmurs, pulling me flush against his chest. His arm folds across me, holding me in place while his other hand slides under the hem of my dress.

His finger pushes inside me, stroking to the rhythm of the Two Feet song reverberating off the walls. Carlotta is on the stage, looking directly at me as she slides her panties down her thighs. A blond man I recognize as Landon joins her on stage, giving her toned ass an appreciative glance. He steps forward, smacking her ass with enough force for it to be heard over the bass. Instead of crumpling in pain, Carlotta’s eyes roll to the back of her head, and her hand snakes between her thighs. She pleasures herself as Landon whispers something in her ear, and the next thing I know, she’s kneeling before him, her mouth open wide to take his cock.

“It’s okay to like it, Lillith,” Kain whispers, causing me to jolt. I look over my shoulder, and my skin tingles as I meet his heated gaze. “Just because I abhor the idea of another woman doesn’t mean you have to.” He nips the base of my neck, a silent chuckle shaking his chest. “I live to give you pleasure, Lillith. It’s endearing that you haven’t figured that out yet.”

I lean my head to the side, giving him full access to that tender spot at the base of my neck. Out of the corner of my eye, I catch someone looking—no, staring at us. At me. I freeze in Kain’s arms, and he looks up at my sudden change in mood.

A growl rumbles from his throat as he notices Callum’s beady eyes trained on me from across the room, and his hands tighten possessively. Suddenly, I’m dragged over to one of the red leather couches in the back of the room, my heart thrumming erratically as Kain takes a seat in the center, his silver gaze fixed on my face.

His thighs spread slightly, and his gaze heats as he pats his inner thigh. “Sit.” I balk, my cheeks flaming at the sheer dominance the action holds.

“Sit. Now.”

This time, my body obeys. I lower onto his leg, wriggling nervously as I try to find a comfortable position. Kain rolls his eye, gripping either side of my waist and shifting me to his center. An arm circles my waist, lifting my ass slightly into the air as the sound of a zipper undoing makes its way to my ears.

“Kain?” I whisper, my breathing coming a little faster. “What are you doing?”

“What you want me to do,” he growls, lowering me back onto his lap. Through the impossibly thin silk of my dress, I can feel him—that thick, pulsing cock pressing against my ass. I shudder as he toys with the hem of my dress, inching it millimeter by millimeter up my thigh. With the jacket still wrapped around my shoulder, I can easily cover up, but I don’t bother as Kain’s fingertips brush my core.

My thighs spread, giving him all the access he needs, and an appreciative hum rumbles the chest at my back.

“Good girl,” he breathes, swirling his index finger around my clit. “Such a good little toy.”

He presses against that spot, and a moan pours from my mouth, calling the attention of the club members surrounding the couch. I don’t care, though. Don’t care about anything other than his touch. The feel of him on my clit, playing me so expertly.

I don’t realize Kain’s cock is at my entrance until he nudges the head inside, drawing a pained hiss from my lips as he stretches the sore muscles.

“Fuck, you’re soaked,” Kain groans, easing his cock inside, then slamming hard against my back walls. “Always such a needy little toy, aren’t you? It’s a good thing I’m here now. Here to pleasure you and fill that needy cunt with the cock it’s been dying for. Weeping for.” He thrusts violently in me, the motion causing my tits to bounce, and I catch a few appreciative glances through the crowd.

I should be worried that they’re watching. Or maybe I should feel dirty or wrong, but… I feel so alive. I like the eyes on me and crave the power that comes with being at the center of that desire.

“Fuck me, Kain,” I moan, throwing my head back against his chest. “Your cock feels so good. So, so, so…” My voice breaks as a scream tears from my throat, and my body shakes with the orgasm that tears through my veins.

Kain presses his hands down on my shoulders, slamming mercilessly into me from below as I come. “Good girl,” he growls, nipping the base of my neck with a feral energy. “I want everyone to see how beautiful you are when you’re coming on my cock.”

My walls convulse around Kain’s cock, thrusting and drawing out every moment of my pleasure. His hand trails down my front, and his fingertips press lightly on my clit, sending my pleasure to new heights. Stars spark my visions as I explode all over again, and my vision tunnels. I think I’m screaming, but I can’t hear anything over the violent rush of blood in my ears, in my head.

Kain roars and goes still inside me. I know by the gentle pulse inside me that he’s found his own release. His entire body shudders as he wraps his arms around my middle, leaving his cock inside me as he leans back on the sofa.

He trails gentle kisses over my temples and my cheeks, filling my veins with so much heat I’m sure I’ll combust. I don’t pay the eyes any more attention—they don’t exist as Kain’s fingers find my breast, as they massage me gently. Lovingly.

“Sorry to interrupt, but I’m going to have to pull you two apart for a bit.”

I jerk at the sound of Carlotta’s voice, but Kain holds me firmly in place.

“What do you want?” he murmurs, drawing lazy circles on my stomach even as his cock surges inside me.

Carlotta huffs, rolling those brilliant blues to the ceiling. “Callum wants to talk to you. Says it’s urgent.”

Kain tenses at my back, and I place a comforting hand on his knee. “It’s okay,” I murmur, turning and pressing my lips to his jaw. A sigh passes his lips, and he relaxes ever so slightly from the touch. “You go talk to him. I should probably… clean up a bit, anyway.”

A growl leaves his chest, and his fingers tighten possessively on my hips. “And if I told you I like the image of my cum dripping out of you all night?”

My core warms at the gravel in his voice, my mind going blank at the hungry sheen in his gaze.

“Uh-oh.” Carlotta’s voice jerks me out of my trance, and I turn my head and see Callum storming through the sea of people, a ravenous sheen in his eyes. I can’t help but notice it’s pointed at the sliver of skin showing around my chest.

Kain runs a hand over his face, his grip tightening on my waist with the other. “Fuck. Lillith, do you mind going with Carlotta? This shouldn’t take very long. I’ll find you guys when I’m done, okay? You promise to keep her safe?” The last question is pointed at Carlotta.

“Swear on my life. Come on, lovely. Let’s go.” Carlotta chirps, hauling me off Kain’s lap by the elbow. My mouth pops—in surprise, in mortification, I’m not sure—but Carlotta doesn’t seem to notice as she pulls me toward John’s office.

I swear Kain curses behind me, but I don’t have the chance to turn and look.

“There’s a private bathroom in John’s office,” Carlotta chirps, seemingly uncaring about whatever hell we just left behind. “Trust me, you do not want to use the one the rest of the club has access to.”

I let out a hollow laugh as she leads me across the floor. I try not to worry as I lose sight of Kain in the crowd, even as the aura of being watched pours over me in waves. It’s somehow different from the sensation I get when Kain watches me. It’s darker. Malicious.

Normally, I’d brush it off, but something tugs at my gut, pricking the hair on the back of my neck. A voice.

And it’s screaming the word danger.

CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT

KAIN

Callum’s lip curls in a snarl as he nears me, and those disgusting pointed teeth make an appearance.

An abomination. A repulsive act against nature. A snake in the garden. A piece of filth to be discarded.

“What do you want?” I bark, my eyes locked on the last spot I saw Lillith’s black waves.

Callum sneers, his gaze following mine. “What, you don’t trust me around your little whore?”

I blink, and a door shatters in the back of my mind.

Kill. Kill. Kill.

I shake my head. In. Out. In. Out. You can’t kill him here. Soon, but not yet.

“The fuck do you want, Callum?” I growl, never taking my gaze away from that spot.

Callum huffs. “For starters, I’d like a little respect.”

“Fuck you.” I snap my head toward him. “This bullshit merger between the clubs isn’t going to last long. You know it; I know it. So how about you drop the act?”

Callum cocks his head. “You seem a little bitter about it, Kain. I’m surprised. You know, considering you were the reason it had to happen in the first place.”

“We both know that’s not true. If I was in charge, the Serpents would be blown off the face of this fucking city.”

“Ah, but you’re not in charge, are you?” His lip quirks in an infuriating smirk. “You’re just a pathetic gun for hire. A glorified garbage boy.”

I wonder if he knows how close he is to losing his teeth.

“Do you have something important to say? Because if not, I’m going the fuck home.” I growl, turning away from him before the last word passes my lips.

Callum jumps in front of me, his arms spread wide. “Don’t be so hasty. I was hoping you’d want to make amends.”

“Amends?”

“Yeah.” His lips part, and those disgusting teeth flash red under the neon club lights. “Your little bitch should do the trick,” he muses, wetting his lips. “You know, Kain, you shouldn’t have paraded that sweet little pussy around like you did earlier. It made certain people… envious.”

He jerks his chin over his shoulder, and my heart stops as I see the two leather-clad men pushing open the door to John’s office. I move to sidestep Callum, but two more men spring from the crowd, moving in until I’m surrounded.

“Get out of my way.” I turn my gaze to the largest of the three. “Now.”

“He’s not going anywhere,” Callum hisses, sending a pointed look at the one cowering before me. “Not until you get the message.”

“Are you sure you want to do this?” I ignore Callum entirely as I address the brute from before. “It doesn’t look like you’re ready to die.”

“Fuck you,” he growls, his shit-colored eyes narrowing. “You’re not gonna do shit.”

In a flash, I pull the gun from my waist and press it between his ugly brown circles. Screams of terror bounce off the walls as a few of the girls realize what’s happening, scattering like roaches under a lamp as the panic spreads.

“You should have moved when I asked.”

Bang!

The lifeless body slumps to the floor at the same time I jump back, narrowly missing the dagger meant to connect with my heart. Before the Serpent has time to recover, I whirl the barrel toward his chest and fire off two more rounds, killing him instantly.

“Get the fuck off me!” Callum roars, kicking at a terrified brunette clinging to his leg. “Useless fucking cunt!”

Using his distraction to my advantage, I point the gun at his head, taking careful aim so as not to hit the girl by accident.

Bang!

My shot arcs to the left as something knocks into my arm, sending the bullet between the eyes of the sandy-haired recruit from earlier. Time seems to slow down as the life drains from the young boy’s eyes. The circle on his forehead, once a symbol of allegiance, now outlines the bullet hole like a perfect red target. His body keels backward, hitting the floor with a sickeningly hollow thud.

Not realizing the brevity of what’s happened, two of his friends rush over and grab his shoulders, trying to shake him awake. That is, until they see the bullet hole. Sobs fill my head, and as I watch the two young boys mourn their friend, my chest rings with an emotion I haven’t felt in some time.

Regret.

I spin on my heels, ready to kill whichever one of Callum’s groupies made me harm an innocent. And my heart stops as I meet the icy blues of John Wallace. The man who took me in, healed my wounds after my broken body was dumped on his doorstep all those years ago.

His face crumples as he reads the emotion in my gaze, but he refuses to speak.

Traitor. Vicious, vile traitor.

I look over his shoulder toward the bathroom, knowing I’ve wasted enough time already. I try one last time to shrug out of his grip, desperate to get to Lillith. He holds firm and widens his stance, that look on his face telling me he’s willing to do everything in his power to stop me from getting to his office. From getting to Lillith.

Kill. Kill, kill, kill, kill, kill, kill.

That door in my mind flies open. Only this time, I welcome the madness. Let the rage and malice simmer in my veins, boil me from the inside until all I am and belong to is the fire.

I turn toward the man I once considered my leader—my friend—and look him dead in the eyes as I aim the tip of the barrel at his treacherous heart.

And my mind quiets as I squeeze the trigger.

CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE

LILLITH

Bang!

My eyes jerk toward the door, knowing the sound of a gun going off even if it’s muffled by the thick oak door. The man stalking toward me bares his teeth in a snarl, seemingly unconcerned by whatever is happening in the main room.

“You’re even prettier up close, you know that, doll?” he coos, stopping a few feet away from me. “I get why Kain kept you holed up for so long.” Now that he’s closer, I recognize him as one of the guys following Callum around all night. Tatum, I think?

“Get the fuck away from her, pissant!” Carlotta screams, fighting against Tatum’s equally terrifying friend. Her nail manages to catch the side of his face, and he lets out a hiss as blood oozes from the wound.

“Fucking bitch,” he mutters, ramming the heel of his hand against Carlotta’s temple. She goes out like a light, and he lets out a grunt as the full weight of her body falls on his shoulders.

Another muffled shot sounds, and this time, Tatum’s eyes shift to the door. “The fuck is going on out there…”

“Probably Carnage giving Kain what he deserves.” Tatum’s friend shrugs his burly shoulders. “I wouldn’t worry about it, man.”

“Yeah, I guess…” Tatum’s eyes jerk back to me, and his face hardens with a new resolve. “We’d be stupid to turn down Callum’s present, anyway.”

The friend laughs as he dumps Carlotta’s body on the ground. The side of her head smacks roughly against the tile, and a surge of rage replaces the terror in my veins.

“You fucking asshole!” I scream, lunging sideways in the friend’s direction with my hands ready to strike. I manage to rake my fingernails across his face before Tatum pulls me away, tossing my body across the room as easily as you would a baseball. My head smacks against the mirror, and a loud ringing replaces the friend’s howls of pain as a sharp pressure builds behind my eyes.

I’m vaguely aware of Tatum stomping over to me, but I can’t seem to move as the room fades in and out of focus. It’s like I’m in a dream, like my body isn’t mine and isn’t going to listen to any commands I give it.

“You’re going to pay for that, you little cunt.” Tatum’s eyes are pitch black as he swoops down, gripping my shoulders in two meaty palms. It hurts, but not nearly as much as the splitting pain in my temple. If anything, the feel of him against my skin clears some of my fog.

A piece of the mirror cracks under Tatum’s boot, and I know then what I have to do to survive this. With one hand, I reach up and cup his face, lowering my lashes seductively like I’ve seen so many of the girls in the club do.

Tatum looks surprised by my change in temperament but doesn’t seem to give it a second thought. His wounded friend long forgotten, he leans in closer, loosening his grip slightly.

“Kain’s trained you, huh? Does that mean you’re going to be a good little slut and comply?”

Bile threatening to spew from my mouth, I give him a wordless nod, hoping he mistakes the disgusted shiver running through me for one of desire. His mouth crashes against mine, and even though all I want is to pull away and vomit, I push into him further. He’s so entranced, he doesn’t notice my other hand wrapping around the large glass shard in the base of the sink. The jagged edges pierce my skin, but I’m numb to the pain as I position my hand like Kain showed me all those nights ago. It’s not a dagger, but I’m praying the technique applies to anything sharp and pointy.

I suck in a breath and pull back slightly, keeping my lashes lowered with a pout so he doesn’t expect anything. He tilts his head to the side, his mouth twisted with a smirk as he leans in for another kiss. That’s when I jam the mirror into the crook of his shoulder.

It doesn’t go very deep, but the shock of it is enough to make him stumble back. With a bellow of pain, his hand shoots up and pinches the area in an attempt to quell the blood oozing from the stab wound.

“You fucking cunt,” he hisses, his eyes alight with a murderous sheen. “You’re going to pay for that.”

He steps toward me, and the bathroom door slams open, sending splinters of wood flying through the air as the lock is ripped from the frame. Kain ducks inside, and a hellish energy fills the room as he locks eyes with me.

“Did he touch you?”

I don’t even have time to nod. Taking one look at me, he turns to Tatum with an expression I’ve never seen before. Not disgust, or rage, or even hate. Something dark. Something unholy.

“Look, man, I was just following orders.” Tatum holds his hand up in defense as Kain takes a step toward him. “Take it up with Callum if you have an issue.”

Kain cocks his head. He reaches an arm behind his head, and that’s when I notice the hilt of a dagger protruding from his shoulder. Bloodied fingers curl around the handle, but he doesn’t remove the blade, just stands there staring at Tatum.

“Trying to intimidate me? Fuck you,” Tatum hisses, crossing his arms with a haughty expression. “I’m Callum’s second. You’re not gonna do shi—”

It happens so fast, I only realize Kain has slit his throat when Tatum stumbles back, choking on the life seeping through the thin line below his Adam’s apple. With wide eyes, his hands wrap around his neck, his mouth opening and closing like a guppy as he tries to breathe through the severed windpipe. Blood pools through the slits of his fingers and down his neck, drenching the collar of his leather jacket. A sickening gurgling noise fills the space, and my stomach flips as I watch the color drain from his cheeks.

Kain steps in front of me, blocking the dying man from my line of sight. “Earmuffs, flower.” My brows come together as Kain places my own hands over my ears. “Close your eyes and hum. You don’t need to know what’s about to happen.”

“But I—”

“You’ve already seen enough.” Kain shoots me a warning look, and I do as he says. His hand lingers on my skin for a moment, and then he’s gone, leaving me in the dark.

Even with my furious humming, it’s not enough to drown out the screams Kain draws from Tatum’s friend. I’ve never heard a man make the sounds that pour from his mouth, and now, I’m thankful Kain didn’t let me watch.

I jump when Kain’s hand lands on my knee, but at the same time, a wave of relief floods my veins. My hands slide from my ears, and I open my eyes, but the only thing I’m able to see are the lines on Kain’s palm.

“It’s not safe to look. Are you okay?” he asks, the tenderness in his voice a sharp contrast to the violence I just witnessed. “Did he hurt you?”

I shake my head, and Kain hisses a sigh of relief as he crushes me to his chest.

“Kain? You’re squishing me.” I push weakly against his chest, and he tightens his grip. “Kain?”

“I know,” he growls, his fingertips digging into my skin.

“Carlotta—”

“She’s fine.” He kisses the top of my head tenderly. “I checked her. She’s breathing. Just a concussion.”

I snuggle deeper into him as a wave of relief crashes over me. “Are you sure?”

“Yes.” He pulls back, hooking his thumb under my chin and directing my gaze to his eyes. “I have to get you out of here, Lillith. Now. And we can’t take Carlotta with us.”

I open my mouth to protest, but he puts a finger to my lips. “Landon is on his way to get her. My priority right now is you.” His face hardens. “My brothers can’t be trusted right now. I need to get you out of here before Landon shows. In case he’s turned, too…”

I don’t think I’m supposed to hear the last part, but Kain doesn’t give me the option to ask any questions.

“But what if he hurts her?”

“He won’t.” His gaze hardens. “Do you trust me?”

I nod, and the muscles in his face relax. “Wrap your arms around my neck and keep your head down. Do not look up. No matter what you hear. Can you do that for me, Lillith?”

My mouth is too dry to speak, but my silence is enough of an answer.

“Okay.” He sighs, holding me tight against him. “Let’s get the fuck out of this hellhole.”

CHAPTER FORTY

KAIN

With all the chaos and swarming bodies, I manage to get Lillith outside without anyone noticing. I don’t know where Wes is, but I can’t stick around any longer to make sure he’s safe. The man can hold his own—which gives me some consolation—but I don’t know what would happen if four or five Serpents decided to jump him at once.

“Hold on tight, flower,” I order, wrapping her hands around my waist before revving the engine. I’ve barely started down the driveway when a furious roar reaches my ears.

“This isn’t over, Kain! You’ll get what’s yours, and that’s a fucking promise!”

Lillith tenses at my back, but I pay no attention to Callum’s threat as I speed away from the club. I need to get her home. I need to make sure she’s safe before I do anything else.

The drive to the cabin feels like it takes forever with nothing to focus on but my heart pounding in my ears. Even as the crisp scent of the eucalyptus makes its way to my senses, I’m unable to focus on anything else. That dull, clocklike thud… thud… thud…

“Kain?”

The angelic voice snaps me out of whatever spell I have been under, and I look around the clearing in surprise.

“We’ve been sitting in the driveway for a couple of minutes… I was worried you might be in shock.”

Dismounting, I wheel around and pull her into my arms, shoving my face into her neck and breathing deeply.

“I thought I was going to lose you tonight.”

“But you didn’t,” she whispers, twisting her delicate fingers in my hair. “I’m here. I’m fine. See?” Her lips lift in a sad smile as she gestures to her frame. My eye catches the dried blood on her palm, and grief pushes all the air from my lungs.

“How could I let this happen?” I whisper, pressing my lips to her bloodied palm. “Nothing was supposed to happen to you. Not ever. Not while I was there.”

Her eyes find mine, and my heart crawls to my throat. There’s not an ounce of the hatred I expect, none of the disdain my failure deserves. Instead, it’s a silent question, asking me to forgive myself because she already has.

“Let’s go inside,” she whispers, taking my hand and leading me to the porch. “I don’t know about you, but I could really use a bath.”

I follow her up to the front of the cabin, placing my palm against the side panel. It doesn’t open. A curse hisses through my teeth as I try to get the locking mechanism to connect, but no matter what angles I try, the door refuses to open.

“I fucking hate technology,” I growl, stomping over to a plant pot at the far end of the porch. Lillith follows close at my heels, and I can feel the question in her gaze as I haul the massive planter out of the corner. Once the square cutout is revealed, I press the entry code numbers, and the front door finally shudders open.

When I straighten, Lillith is fixing me with a hard stare. “You used my birthday as the code to your front door?” Her voice is meant to sound tough, but I don’t miss the hint of appreciation.

“It’s the code to your cage, too.” I shrug as I move toward the open door. “Though, I’ll be changing it after this conversation.”

“Of course you will be,” she grumbles, stepping past the threshold into the cabin. “You know, you don’t need to lock me up anymore. It’s not like I plan to go anywhere.”

“I know. But it’s fun.” My grin widens as the apples of her cheeks heat. “Don’t worry, little flower. I’ll only use it when you’re being particularly bratty.”

“I’m not bratty!” She huffs, stomping her foot as if to prove my point. My gaze narrows as I stalk toward her, and I don’t miss the way her throat bobs at the look in my eye.

“You wanna try that again, brat?” I growl, throwing her over my shoulder and stomping toward the bathroom. Her body shakes with a giggle, which only adds to the violence flooding my veins. “You think it’s funny to disobey me, Lillith?”

At my tone, she freezes. “Uh… no?”

“It doesn’t sound like you’re too sure,” I say, my tone a contradiction to the care I take while placing her in the tub. “Does my toy need some correction?”

Her face lights at the promise, and it takes everything in me not to take her over my knee. As much as she’d enjoy the distraction right now, I know it’s not what she needs after the night she just had. My little flower is anything but delicate—there’s never been a doubt in my mind about that, and the way she defended herself tonight further proves that—but anyone would be shaken by what happened at the club, and unfortunately, she’s no exception.

Wordlessly, I strip and hop into the tub, standing over her to shield her from the freezing stream as I turn on the shower. It beats down on my head and shoulders, turning a bright shade of red as it carries the sins of tonight down the drain.

As soon as the water warms, I step aside, allowing Lillith full access. She winces as the droplets hit the severed skin on her palm, and I crouch to inspect the wound.

“I don’t think it’s going to need stitches,” I murmur, turning her wrist in my palm as I gauge the thickness of the cut. “It’ll hurt like a bitch for a few days, and there will be a scar, but it looks like it’s going to be okay.”

“I know.” I look up at her smile in surprise, and that’s when it hits me like a ton of bricks. I’m so fucking stupid. She’s a literal doctor, so she knows whether it needs stitches more than a dumb bastard like me.

“I’m so sorry. I was so worried, I forgot that—”

“It’s okay. I thought it was cute.” She giggles, and the sound makes my chest swell. God, I wish she would do that more often.

“Will you let me make up for it?” I pull her palm to my lips, making sure not to press too hard.

“Depends.” Her grin is wicked. “What did you have in mind?”

“Breakfast in bed for the next month? A thousand orgasms? An island? Name your price.”

Her brow shoots up. “A thousand orgasms? Don’t you think that’s a tad unattainable?”

“Lillith, if I have to strap you to the bench downstairs for the next three years, I’ll do it.” I grab the bar of soap and massage it into her palm. “Nothing is unattainable when it comes to you. I’d burn this whole fucking city down if you needed me to.”

“You were right, you are always morbid.” Her lip twitches with a smile as I massage the lilac-scented soap up her arms. “You don’t have to do this, you know. I’m not so fragile that I can’t bathe myself.”

I stop, locking eyes with her. “I don’t think you’re fragile, Lillith. Quite the opposite.”

“But you’re always saying that you have to protect me. If you thought I was strong, then…”

“My sweet little flower,” I whisper, reaching up to cup her cheek. “You’re one of the strongest people I know. But just because you’re capable of taking care of yourself doesn’t mean you have to. You’ve been living your entire life for others; giving everything you are, and then what’s left after that, as well. You deserve to be taken care of, too.”

A tear cuts a line down her cheek, and I swipe it away before crushing my mouth to hers. The kiss takes all the breath from my lungs, and it’s all I can do not to lose myself in her. I know the second I do, nothing of me will be left. She’ll possess me, body, mind, and soul. As much as I abhor giving up control, I’ll gladly do it for her.

When I pull back, the tenderness in her gaze makes my chest expand.

“Turn around?” she asks innocently. “I want to get a look at your shoulder.”

At her mention, the area prickles. I’m about to refuse, but the thought of that tender look in her eyes dying has me spinning faster than I can blink. I close my eyes as her fingertips skim the inflamed skin around the stab wound, prodding and inspecting the severity.

“What’s the prognosis, doc? Am I gonna make it?” She swats my arm, and a chuckle rumbles in my chest. “We really need to work on your bedside manner,” I tease.

“Hush. My bedside manner is killer.” She coughs. “Not literally, of course.”

“Sure hope not. You’ll be doing my stitches pretty soon.” I grit my teeth as she rubs soap in and around the wound. It doesn’t hurt in the slightest, but the lightning shock from her touch is driving me a little mad. Every time she touches me, I have to have her. It’s an insatiable, unstoppable drive to be inside her, to make her scream my name until it’s the only word ringing in that beautiful mind.

The fact she’s so fucking brilliant only makes it hotter watching her turn into a drooling, mumbling mess on my cock.

“Fuck me,” I groan, pushing those images from my mind so my dick will chill the fuck out.

“Kain? You okay?”

“Not in the slightest.” I sigh, running a hand through my hair as she continues cleaning the wound. “You almost done? I really need to fuck you before I lose my mind.”

“There will be no sex until I get your stitches. I’m putting my foot down,” she grumbles.

I turn, my eyebrow raised at all five feet of her ferociousness. Even with her best efforts, there’s no way she can physically make me do something. Of course, I have no plans to deny her. Not now, not ever.

“I’ll get the sewing kit.”

After rinsing off, I step out of the tub and wrap a towel around my waist. A disgruntled noise sounds from the shower, and I can’t help but smile.

“You know, you can always take back what you said earlier.” I flash my teeth at her over my shoulder, loving the pretty shade of pink on her cheeks. “Be right back, flower.”

I grab the first-aid kit from under the sink and am about to head back to the bathroom when a bottle of Jack catches my eye. I take a swig directly from the mouth before returning to Lillith, bottle and all.

She eyes the dwindling fifth with a dubious look. “I’m assuming that’s not for cleaning.”

“It’s for both.” I shrug, pulling another mouthful. I place the kit on the counter before walking over and turning off the shower.

I shove the bottle at her as I grab a towel from the rack, and she raises her brow. “I don’t think I should be drinking when I’m about to stick a needle in you.”

“I wholly disagree.” I shake it, and she reluctantly takes it from my grip. “Plus, I need my hands free to dry you off.”

She shakes her head, then takes a careful sip as I rub the towel over her body. “God, this stuff is fucking awful.”

“You don’t drink it for taste, my love.” I shoot her a crooked grin as I begin drying the area between her thighs. “I thought you would know that, seeing as you’re a doctor and all.”

She shrugs, raising the bottle to her lips again. “Alcoholism doesn’t set in until your residency. Not that I have to worry about it anymore.”

My chest squeezes at her words. She could have done so much good if I stayed away and let the world experience her magic. It’s because of me. I’m the one who took her, who ripped her from her life. I can’t say I regret it—and that’s just another example of why I’m a terrible man.

Now that I know Lillith, it’s like discovering fate doesn’t exist; that the demon I’ve become didn’t have to be. In her eyes, I’m faced with everything I could have been—everything I should have been—and it’s fucking painful.

She’s everything I’m not. She’s so good, and I’ve stripped her of the option to extend that goodness, coveting it for myself like the selfish bastard I am. What’s even more disturbing is that it feels wrong for the first time in my life. So terribly, horribly wrong.

I’m a monster. Just like everyone has always said.

I shake my head. No. It doesn’t have to be like that anymore. I can do the right thing for once in my life. For the only person who’s ever truly deserved it.

At the look on my face, her eyes widen. “Kain, what’s wrong?”

“I’ll take you back,” I whisper, letting the towel slip from my fingers. “I’ve been so concerned with protecting you from the world, but I’ve been the real monster all along.” I fall to my knees, pressing my face into her thighs. “But you have to tell me to do it. I can’t do it without hearing it from your lips. Do it, Lillith. Rip my fucking heart out. Send me to my grave, leave me to rot. If it’s what you want, I’ll free you. I’ll let you go home.”

I’m so out of my mind that I don’t realize she’s joined me on the tile. My eyes search hers, wondering how such a magnificent creature can exist on this rotten earth; so strong, sweet, and selfless.

She’s a fucking anomaly. She’s… magnificent.

“Please, Lillith,” I beg. “It has to be you. I’m not fucking strong enough.”

She shakes her head, and for a moment, it looks like she wants to laugh. Then she takes my face in her palm—the scarred, ugly half—and the sensation of her skin on mine is something no drug can replicate.

“I am home,” she whispers, brushing her thumb over the tortured flesh. “You’re my home, Kain. I never really knew what that meant until I met you, but I do now.”

She leans forward, pressing her forehead to mind. “It’s banana pancakes in the morning. The smell of your aftershave. Sweet nothings whispered when we’re both half asleep. You’re everything and nothing that I ever needed, and I’m not going anywhere. Not without a fight, that is.” She throws her head back, and a heavenly sound bounces off the walls. My veins fill with electricity, and I pray for time to stand still. What I wouldn’t give to be stuck in a place where that noise plays on repeat.

“Now turn around,” she orders playfully. “Let me at that shoulder.”

I shake my head. “I’m taking care of that hand first.” Before she has time to object, I turn and grab the kit from the countertop, inspecting the contents and breathing a sigh of relief when I realize everything I need is inside.

“How are you with needles?” I ask, my breath catching at the sight of her bent over, towel-drying her legs. “Jesus fuck.”

“What?” Her eyes go wide as she takes in my growing cock. “Oh.”

That innocent little word sends me tumbling into madness. I clear the distance between us in two huge steps, dropping the first-aid box so I can use both hands to grip her waist. My vision tunnels until there’s nothing but her pretty face. Every nerve in my body is screaming, demanding that I take her. I’ve lost my fucking mind, and all it took was the sight of her bare legs.

Lillith seems just as entranced. Her lids lower, and she tilts her chin up, waiting for my mouth to claim hers. Pain flashes across her face as I grip her hand. I had meant to guide it behind my neck, but at that look, I freeze. The fire in my veins is doused, replaced by the concern from earlier.

“Fuck, I’m sorry, little flower,” I murmur, pulling away to her whimpers of protest. I shoot her a stern look, and she stops pouting. “I forgot myself for a moment.”

I grab the kit from the floor and gesture to the side of the tub. “Sit.”

I crouch between her knees, twisting her hand palm up to inspect the gash. “This is going to sting,” I whisper, shooting her an apologetic glance before spraying the antiseptic on the wound. She hisses through her teeth, but otherwise makes no protest.

“You’re doing amazing, little flower. Just one more thing.” I squeeze some ointment onto a gauze pad and press it into her palm, then I wrap her entire hand in a thick white bandage. I’m in the middle of securing it with a knot when my phone dings.

It goes off three more times, each becoming increasingly harder to ignore. Lillith raises her brow, giving me a look that screams are you really going to ignore that?

I sigh, placing her bandaged hand onto her lap before ripping the disgraceful phone from my pocket. The first two pings were messages from an unknown number, but the last one is an image. I can’t see what it is without opening my phone, but the texts above tell me it’s not fucking pretty.

Unknown:

You fucked up, Kain. You should have accepted my truce.

A growl rumbles low in my throat as I open my message app. The picture is encrypted, and I have to press it to see what it is. The image finally loads, and it’s so dark and grainy I have to pull it within inches of my nose to make out what it is.

Oh God, no.

He’s tied to a chair, and even though his face is caked with blood, I recognize him instantly.

They got Wes.

PART THREE

THE TOLLING

CHAPTER FORTY-ONE

LILLITH

Kain looks like he’s seen a ghost. I don’t know what that message said, but it must be something truly horrible if it can elicit this response.

“Kain, what’s wrong?” I ask, my veins iced with terror. “What happened?”

“They have Wes.”

The way he says it with such cold indifference sends a chill down my spine. It doesn’t match his troubled expression, and I wonder if he knows his mask has slipped.

As I take it in, the horrible truth becomes clear. They took Wes because of me, because of what Kain did at the club in order to keep me safe. That guy in the bathroom said he was Callum’s second, and I doubt they’d let Kain get away with killing such a high-ranking member.

“I’m so sorry, Kain,” I whisper, twisting my necklace around my thumb so tight that it purples. “It’s my fault they took him. I should have—”

“Do not even think about finishing that sentence.” The look he gives me splinters my mind. I didn’t know a man could look so utterly… devastated. It looks like he can feel the tendons of his heart aching, and he’d like nothing more than to reach inside his own chest and rip out the treacherous organ.

“Can you help him? Is there any way to get him back?” I ask, guilt threatening to eat me alive.

He doesn’t even hesitate. “Yes.”

I pause, waiting for him to elaborate or maybe rush off to save his best friend. Instead, he just stands there, taking me in with a thoughtful expression.

“Are you going to do something?”

“No.”

“What? Kain, you have to do some—”

“I’m not leaving you alone.” His expression screams that it’s the end of the conversation, but I’m far from deterred.

“You have to! You can’t just leave him there! God only knows what they’re doing to him right now!” I throw my hands up, wanting him to have some reaction—-any reaction—other than this stone-cold facade. “You’ll never forgive yourself if you sit back and don’t lift a finger to help.”

“You seem to have my priorities confused, Lillith. I have done many things I can’t forgive myself for. Enough to know the only thing I’d ever regret is if I let harm come to you.”

“That’s very sweet of you,” I murmur. Deciding to change my tack, I place my hand over his heart, lowering my voice to a soothing tone. “You forget that I know you now. I know that what you just said is a lie. You care about more than just me; you care about your best friend deeply. You can’t just leave him. You know that, Kain. You do, and you won’t let yourself.”

He stays silent for a long time, and I swear I can see the gears shifting in his head. He knows I’m right—the only question is will he listen?

“Okay,” he says at last, his face twisting like the word causes physical pain. “Okay, but I’m not leaving you alone.”

I almost feel like rolling my eyes. The only person he’d trust alone with me is Bear, and he’s currently… “Who are you going to leave me with?”

He looks off to the side, his fist tightening like he’s trying to fight the war going on in his head. Then he sighs, all the air in his lungs rushing out in a fantastic whoosh.

“No one knows his real name, but he goes by Ghost.”

CHAPTER FORTY-TWO

KAIN

I pace back and forth outside the bedroom door, stopping every few turns to check that the lock is still in place. This is a bad, bad, bad fucking idea. I sigh, rubbing a hand over my mask. If I had any other options… if I wasn’t so damn paranoid, if I could trust anyone else…

A scraping noise makes its way to my ears, and I grab my gun as I whip toward the front door. The open front door. Slowly, oh so slowly, I lower the weapon as Ghost appears in the doorway, waggling his gloved fingers in a greeting. I can’t see his expression through the oval mask covering his face, but if I had to guess, he’s wearing an insipid smirk.

“Hello, Kain.” The voice he speaks with is mechanical, scrambled by whatever voice changer he has installed in that thing.

“Ghost.”

He tilts his head, seeming to regard the contents of the cabin. “Where’s the lovely Lillith? I’ve been so looking forward to meeting her.”

“How did you get in?” I demand, refusing to answer his question.

Ghost clicks his tongue, and that black oval faces me dead on. “What a silly question.” He takes a step closer, that circle hovering above his shoulders staying deadly still. “If you really didn’t want me to find her, you probably shouldn’t be pacing in front of a locked door.”

I grind my teeth, my fist flexing at my side as I stare him down. “I called you over to watch the cabin, not interrogate her.”

A sigh ensues, so deep I’m sure he’s rolling his eyes. “You’ve gotten so dull, my friend. Whatever happened to that feisty lad dying in your father’s bunker?”

“We’re not fucking friends,” I growl.

“Oh, yes. You keep saying that.”

Silence. Wholly uncomfortable silence.

“Do you have cable?” he asks, turning from me and stepping toward the couch.

“Cable?”

“Yes. You know, news and 90s reruns and all those funny little men chasing the balls.”

I scoff. “You want to watch sports?”

Shoulders cased in fine silk rise with a shrug. “I have to do something around here if you won’t let me speak to Lillith. An idle mind is the devil’s”—the oval whips to me—“workshop.”

I see red. “If you so much as look at her wrong—”

“Oh, relax,” Ghost says, throwing up a hand in exasperation. “We’re going to have a lovely time. I even promise to have her in bed by eight.”

Bastard. Rotten fucking bastard. “Just keep her safe. That’s all I’ve paid you for.”

“And I always honor my contracts.” Ghost lowers in a bow, keeping that oval aimed at my face. “Always.”

The ironic thing is as long as Ghost gets his money, he’s the most trustworthy guy in the city.

So even though everything in me is screaming to do the opposite, I step toward the front door.

“Keep her safe for me, Ghost. It’s the only thing I’ll ever ask of you.”

That obsidian mask seems to shake with laughter as he says, “I highly doubt that.”

Knowing this might be a mistake, I step out into the night.

I’m coming, Wes. I’m coming to save you.

CHAPTER FORTY-THREE

LILLITH

It’s been thirty minutes since I heard the scrape of the front door, signaling Kain’s departure. I can’t stop running through worst-case scenarios, and though I know in my heart he’s capable of handling the situation, I can’t stop thinking about what I would do if something… if something happened to him.

An image of him, pallid and gasping on the hospital bed, springs to mind, and I nearly fall off the bed with the strength that I shake my head. No, that won’t happen again. It can’t.

A knock sounds from the other side of the bedroom door, and a screech fills the air, mingling with the sound of my bones slamming into the hardwood floors.

“Goodness. You look a mess.”

The mechanical voice that fills the space sends a chill down my spine, and against my better judgment, I rise and face him. A fine silk suit covers his frame, clinging to the lean muscle across his forearms. He’s slimmer than Kain and a few inches shorter, but the air he carries himself with… is just as deadly.

If I could see his face, I’m sure I’d look into eyes just as cruel and calculating as Kain’s, but the oval-shaped mask stops that from being a possibility. I’m so busy taking in the deadly apparition that I don’t realize he’s taken a step closer.

He extends a gloved hand, his body eerily still as he waits for me to take it.

I don’t.

The man—Ghost—clicks his tongue. “Everyone is so paranoid these days. It’s a hand, not a viper. Take it.”

Swallowing hard, I place my hand in his. The coolness of the leather bites into my palm—just as a snake would—as he hauls me to my feet, and suddenly, I’m not so sure he was telling the truth.

He’s so… cold. Wrong.

“I assume he informed you of our arrangement?”

I jump at the sound of that distorted voice. Once my heart stops pounding, I nod, my stomach roiling with unease at the way that masked face stares at me. Like he’s looking at the threads of my soul, debating which one to unravel first. It makes me uneasy, and I have to remind myself that Kain trusts this man and wouldn’t leave me in the hands of anyone who would harm me.

Although I can’t tell by the looks of him…

The black oval swivels around the room, taking in every inch with clinical precision. “Has he told you anything about me?”

I can’t help but scoff. “Should he have?”

That black hole faces me and threatens to suck my soul in. “I prefer when people don’t. My mannerisms often get… lost in translation.” A mechanical chuckle fills the space, and my skin roils with how uncomfortable of a sound it is.

“Do you know when Kain will be back?” I don’t want to be alone with this man any longer than I have to. The air around me feels vile like his very presence pollutes it.

In answer, Ghost shrugs, turns, and exits the room. I stare after him, marveling as he practically floats over to the couch. He plops down like he owns the place, throwing his feet onto the coffee table.

“Are you coming, or are you going to be as dull as your lover?” he asks, hooking his fingers behind his head. He doesn’t even face me as he says it, feigning interest in where the front door would be.

I bristle, crossing my arms even though I know he’s not looking. Although maybe… I give him the middle finger to test my theory. That horrid mask whips over as soon as I do it, and I nearly fall over in fright.

He throws his head back, and another distorted laugh fills the room. “I can see why he likes you. You’re fun when you’re terrified.”

“And you’re a prick. Probably all the time, if our short encounter has taught me anything.”

He cackles. “I like you.”

I roll my eyes as I walk to the couch, plopping down on the cushion farthest from Ghost. “The feeling is not mutual. You’re creepy as hell.” I almost clap my hand over my mouth. Where on earth are my survival instincts?

He tilts his head. “And here I thought you were becoming more acquainted with the masked variety of men.”

I almost choke. “Th-That’s different. Kain—”

“Who?”

I balk at the interruption. “Kain… the big guy with the mask…?”

He throws his head back in a cackle, and a small shudder runs through me. I wish he would stop doing that. His laugh gives me the heebie-jeebies, more so than the first time I saw Kain without his mask.

“Kain…” The name rolls off his tongue like he’s sampling it, toying with the unfamiliar sonant. “I always forget he goes by that crude little nickname.” He pauses, giving me a knowing look. “I bet he hasn’t told you his real name, has he?”

I glare at him. The bastard knows, and he’s dangling it in front of me like a carrot.

When I don’t answer, he shakes his head, clicking his tongue. “What a bastard, amiright? Like, it’s not that big of a deal, with all the world hunger business going on. There’s bigger problems, is what I’m saying.”

“Do you just like the sound of your own creepy voice?” I huff, anger lighting my veins.

“She’s feisty. I knew he was obsessed with you for something other than your looks.” The oval angles toward my chest. “Then again, your looks would be more than enough…”

“I’m not sure I like your insinuation.”

He chuckles. “Relax. I know better than to touch his toys. He doesn’t share very well, as I’m sure you know.”

“I’m not a fucking toy,” I glower.

He pauses. “All humans are toys. You just have to know the right buttons to press.”

What the actual fuck? Creepy ass—

“To answer your question from earlier… Yes. I do like the sound of it.” He fishes in his pocket and procures a slim paper cone. “Do you smoke?”

“Uh… no,” I say, holding my hand up as he tries to offer it to me. He shrugs, clicking a button on the side of his mask.

“Your loss.”

To my surprise, the bottom third of his mask vaporizes, revealing a pair of lips stretched over a feline smile. His chin is angular—odd, paired with the fullness of his mouth, although his jaw is strong. He might be a handsome man, but the parts I can see tell me he pales in comparison to Kain—even with the scars.

Ghost places the joint between his lips, and I wait silently as he lights the end. A string of smoke trails from the glowing tip as he lets out his breath, filling the room with a cloud of sickly-sweet smog.

Awkward silence it is. Unless… “Do you want to talk about anything?”

The oval slowly swivels to face me. “I can’t remember the last time someone asked me that.”

“Is that what you want to talk about?”

He leans back with a chuckle, the vibration causing flecks of ash to fall to the cushions. “Are you always this persistent?”

“Hey, if you want to sit in silence until Kain returns, be my guest.”

“That’s the problem with people, isn’t it? You all have this asinine desire to fill the space with your own voices.”

I narrow my eyes. “I’m picking up on some mommy issues.”

“My mother sold me, so yeah. That’s pretty accurate.”

The blood drains from my face. Oh God. I’m going to hell.

Ghost throws his head back. “Oh fuck, I’m sorry. You’re just too easy to mess with.” Wiping a fake tear from his eye, he puts the joint between his lips and takes another hit. “Are you sure you don’t want some of this? It seems like you need it.”

I shake my head, about to offer something snarky when his head whips to the space the front door would be.

“Fuck,” he hisses. “They found us.” That oval faces me and goes still like earlier. Eerily still, horrendously still, like every muscle in his body is frozen, locked in one moment of time. Oh my God please say something please stop looking stop staring stop whatever it is you’re doing.

Then I see it. The film of smoke billowing through the cracks around the hidden door.

“What the hell is happening?” I ask, my eyes darting to the kitchen where I know the knives are stored. “Ghost? Who found us?”

He whirls around, his fingertips digging painfully into the skin of my upper arms as he grips me. “Listen to me, Lillith. We don’t have much time.”

My chest tightens. “Ghost, what—”

“Fun time’s over, Lillith, and you need to be very quiet and listen carefully if you want to live.” My heart stops, jumps to my throat, and I can do nothing but as he’s demanded.

“Some men are going to come in here,” the distorted voice whispers. “I don’t know how many, but I’m guessing at least three. This next part is very important, Lillith.” He goes still, oh so still, and I’m worried my heart has stopped, convinced there’s nothing pumping blood through my veins as he says, “They’re going to take you.”

My mouth pops with the beginning of a protest, but the look in Ghost’s eyes stops me. “They’re not going to kill you—you’re worth too much to them—so don’t try to resist. It’s not you they want, at the end of the day. Do you understand?”

The smoke is burning my eyes and throat and making it impossible to speak, so I give him a nod. I’ve never been so fucking terrified. Not even that night Kain showed up at my door. For some reason, this feels different. Like my life is dangling on a tightrope, and one wrong move will send me plummeting to certain death.

Ghost presses a button at the side of his mask, and a low whirring noise fills the space between us. “You’ll pass out from the gas in a few seconds. When you wake up, you’ll be in a place you don’t recognize, but you must remain calm. Can you do that for me, Lillith?”

Again, I nod, though I’m starting to feel less and less confident in my ability to do so. The gas is already starting to take effect, and I really don’t know if I’m strong enough to do what he’s asking of me. Ghost’s voice makes its way to my ears, though it sounds like I’m deep underwater.

“Be strong, Lillith. Kain will come for you. I promise.”

Then everything goes black.

CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR

KAIN

I look down at the location Ghost sent me, then back up to the boxy building in front of me. I’m an hour outside the city, and there’s nothing but pasture and run-down barns for miles. I’m not sure what a warehouse is doing out in the middle of nowhere, but it’s the location Ghost got when he traced the text message.

The message detailing my best friend’s torture.

My stomach hardens as I step toward the large iron doors, already planning ways to break whatever lock they have in place. As I near, it becomes apparent that there’s no such lock, and when I tug on the bars, the door swings open with ease.

Okay. That’s not fucking good.

I should turn around, come back when I have a better plan and a better idea of what I’m up against. Except… it’s Wes. I can’t leave without Wes.

Filling my lungs with a breath, I ignore the screaming of my gut and step inside. My steps echo off the walls of the warehouse, the enormous space empty except for a few wooden pallets propped in the corner and a smattering of sawdust coating the floor. It looks like the place was emptied in a hurry. The question is, why?

I turn and hurry toward the exit, curling my hand around the gun at my hip. I don’t like this. Not one fucking bit. I’m a few feet from the door when it slams shut, cloaking the warehouse in darkness once more.

“Fuck,” I hiss, pulling my gun from the holster at my hip.

I blink rapidly, willing my eyes to adjust to the lack of light as I back up against the door. If I can’t see, I need to keep my back covered so they can’t sneak up on me. My index tightens on the trigger, ready to fire at the slightest noise.

Click.

A light flicks on at the same time I shoot. The bulb bursts, sending a shower of glass to the floor as the room is cloaked in darkness once more.

“Jesus fuck! I’m going to turn on another light—don’t shoot it.”

That voice. My blood turns to ice as another light flicks on, illuminating the dark green leathers covering my best friend’s shoulders.

My chest squeezes as I look into those familiar chocolate eyes.

“Wes?” I choke, my finger sliding from the trigger. “I thought you were dead. I thought he—”

“Killed me? You know I’m too tough for that.” A low chuckle rumbles through the air.

I frown. Something’s not right. Wes isn’t right.

“Why am I locked in here with you?” I wonder, attempting to meet his gaze. I haven’t lowered my gun yet, and I’m starting to realize that might be the only reason I’m not fucking dead. They expected me to let my guard down in front of my best friend. He expected me to.

“Wes?” I demand. “Why am I locked in here with you?”

All at once, his mask drops, giving way to pure, unadulterated malice. “You always were too smart for your own fucking good.”

“What are you doing? Are you helping them?”

Wes throws his head back in a mocking laugh. “‘Are you helping them?’ God, listen to yourself. You sound fucking pathetic.”

“I trusted you.” My voice sounds foreign to my ears, like someone else has taken control of my voice box. Someone hurt. Someone vulnerable.

Wes has the decency to finally meet my eyes, but the hatred swirling in them causes the air to leave my lungs.

“You shouldn’t have.”

This can’t be happening. Not Wes. Anyone but him.

“Why?” I demand, my pulse thrumming wildly in my ears. “Why are you doing this?”

“It should be obvious,” he snarls, inching his hand toward his own weapon.

Click.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” I mutter, my thumb sliding from the safety. “I really don’t want to kill you. Please… please don’t make me.” The last part comes out barely above a whisper, meant more for my ears than his.

“You’re not going to hurt me,” he spits, reaching for his gun anyway. I aim the tip of my barrel down and to the side, and shoot.

“Fuck!” he screams, cradling his bloodied hand to his chest. “My fucking fingers!”

I cock the hammer and aim it between his eyes. “Open the door and let me out, Bear. We can still fix this.”

“Fuck. You,” he seethes, wrapping the last two of his fingers in his shirt. In his anger, he doesn’t manage to tie it off very well, and all it does is drench his tee in blood.

I take a step forward. “Here, let me help y—”

“No!” he screams, tearing his shirt clean from his back. “Get the fuck away from me! FUCK!” He doubles over as an inhumane roar tears from his throat. “I’m so fucking sick of you! It’s always about motherfucking Kain Hellfyre, and I’m SICK OF IT!” He straightens and takes a step toward me, his eyes holding a manic sheen. His movements are oddly choppy, like a tin soldier learning to walk. Like a man hooked on X.

I glance at his forearms. I knew the track marks would be there, but seeing the wounds peppering my best friend’s skin causes my chest to squeeze.

“Wesley, please…” I hold the gun level with his heart, willing him to stop so I don’t have to pull the trigger. “I’ll get you help. This doesn’t have to be this way.”

“Like hell it doesn’t.” His eyes are wild as he points his barrel at my forehead, his hand shaking. “I’m done living in your shadow. Callum is going to give me everything I want. I’m finally going to be somebody!” His voice rises to hysteria. “I’m going to be everything you’re not! I’m going to be the king!”

His gun goes off. The bullet whizzes past my ear and penetrates the wall behind me, but I don’t flinch. He tried to kill me. He tried to kill me. He tried to kill me.

The words echo in my head, and before I know what’s happening, my finger squeezes the trigger.

Bang!

Wes stumbles back, his eyes wide as crimson blossoms from the bullet hole in his shoulder.

“Y-you shot me!” He looks down at the wound as if it’s just now occurring to him. “It… hurts.”

My muscles freeze, and suddenly, I’m not looking at a thirty-year-old man. All at once, he’s the chocolate-eyed boy who used to climb trees with me. The giant crybaby I had to stick up for because he was too gentle to hurt a fly. My best friend. My brother.

I fire once, twice more, in the abdomen and upper thigh. Nonlethal.

Wes topples, crashing to the ground like a giant felled tree, his mouth open in a cry of agony. His gun falls from his hand, skidding across the floor and out of reach.

“W-wait!” he screams, clutching his stomach wound. “Please, don’t do this, Kain!” He looks from side to side, attempting to be discreet. He’s still trying to get his gun. Still trying to kill me.

At the murderous look in my eye, Wes changes tack.

“D-don’t do this, Kain,” he whimpers, his voice cracking every other word. “We can get past this! Please, I-I’m sorry I betrayed your trust. Please, Kain… I don’t want to die.”

I pause. Can I really do this to him? After everything we’ve been through?

At my hesitation, he lunges to the side, fumbling for the weapon too far out of his reach to help him. My chest cracks once, twice, and I point the barrel between his shit-colored eyes.

I’m finally seeing clearly enough to realize this thing isn’t my best friend. It’s a monster I don’t recognize, another casualty of this wretched world.

His shoulders shake with silent cries. “I’m your best friend. That should mean something…”

“You were my best friend,” I say, meeting his shattered gaze head-on. “That was my mistake.”

This time, I don’t hesitate when I pull the trigger.

CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE

LILLITH

Bzzz… bzzz… bzzz

A low groan tumbles from my lips as I reach out, trying to find my phone so I can stop that awful noise and go back to sleep. My palm connects with something cold and hard where my pillow should be, and I jolt upright with a gasp.

I’m not in bed with Kain. I’m in danger. Horrible fucking danger.

The afternoon’s events rush through my mind like a slideshow of horrors, and I squeeze my eyes tight despite the fact the room is cloaked in darkness. A low chuckle echoes off the walls, and I jump so hard that the back of my head smacks against the concrete.

“It’s been a while, hasn’t it, Lillith?”

That voice. I know that voice…

“You’re a difficult woman to track down, Lillith. Even my best men couldn’t locate that hole Kain had you locked up in.”

Where the hell have I heard that voice?

The light flicks on, and I squint, trying to make out the features of the figure stalking toward me. As my eyes adjust to the light, I notice a thick metal mask cloaking the right half of his face.

My heart jumps. The naive part of my brain is convinced for a single moment that it’s Kain, that he’s here to rescue me like he has before. The man brings a hand up to the mask, and even before I see the angular features, I know it’s not him.

“Callum,” I whisper, my throat beginning to close. “Where am I?”

“That’s really not the question you should be asking.” He chuckles, tossing the mask to the side. It hits the far wall with a loud clunk, and I wince. “What you should be asking is—what do I want from you?” He takes a step toward me, silent as a cat.

“I don’t really want to know the answer,” I glower.

Callum stops and sucks his teeth. “Kain’s obviously gone soft. I’ll correct that attitude of yours, though.” His lips part with a snarl—or maybe it’s supposed to be a smile. “Don’t you worry.”

Yet I’m very, very worried.

“What do you want from me?” I ask, trying to distract him as my eyes dart around the square room, searching for an escape. Ghost said they weren’t going to kill me, but… I’m starting to think what’s about to happen to me could be worse than death.

Callum stops his advance, cocking his head to the side with a satisfied smile. “She listens.” His expression changes drastically, switching from amusement to rage in a heartbeat. “That’s disappointing. I was looking forward to correcting you.”

“What. Do. You. Want?” I repeat, trying to keep my voice level as I meet his hideous black eyes. “What’s going to happen to me?”

Callum’s lips spread in a smile that doesn’t reach his eyes. “What was supposed to happen long ago. Sell. You. Like fucking cattle. Like the useless hole you are.”

I spit. Right in his disgusting, evil face.

Callum rears back, the planes of his face twisting in rage as he sends the back of his hand across my face. I don’t have time to react before his hand is around my throat, squeezing so hard it feels like my eyes are going to pop out of my skull.

I claw at his skin, and though warm blood coats my fingers, Callum acts like he doesn’t notice. My feet leave the ground as he lifts me, staring into my eyes with a cruel black gaze as he continues to squeeze the life from me.

Just when darkness curls around the corner of my vision, Callum’s hand leaves my throat, and my body meets the floor. My knees scream as they connect with the concrete, but I can’t make a sound. I lie in the fetal position, gasping in huge lungfuls of air through my ragged windpipe, running through all the ways I’d like to hurt this man. Kill this man.

But all I can do is lie there, trying not to vomit as the beginnings of a panic attack take hold. Keep it together, Lillith. Stay strong. You have to stay strong. For Ghost. For Kain.

Callum’s barking laugh fills the small concrete room, and I shove to my knees, my fists raised against his next attack.

At the sight of my stance, Callum lets loose another shuddering laugh. His eyes rake over my body, and my skin crawls everywhere that black gaze touches.

I get ready for his advance, for that viselike grip to return to my neck. Instead, the door at Callum’s back creaks open, drawing his attention away from me at last.

“What?” he snaps, his tone indicating he might just kill whoever interrupted him, no matter the reason.

“There’s a… problem at the warehouse.” The man at the door sounds terrified, and I don’t blame him. Callum looks practically unhinged.

“What kind of problem?”

The man is silent, and Callum lets out a low hiss as he pinches the bridge of his nose. He takes a deep breath, no doubt trying to calm himself. “You’re not in trouble. Just tell me.”

The man takes a shaky breath. “Wesley… he’s dead.”

Callum’s spine goes deadly straight. “You’re sure?”

“Tracker went offline ten minutes ago. There’s only one thing that makes that happen.”

A heavy silence fills the room. Then Callum faces me, a cheery smile plastered on his face. “Well, I suppose we’ll have to finish this… later. Don’t go anywhere.” He laughs, causing a ball of rage to form in the pit of my stomach.

He pauses at the door, shooting me one last predatory glance over his shoulder before pulling it closed and locking me inside.

I collapse against the wall, unable to take my eyes off that door. Ghost told me to stay strong, to wait for Kain.

I’m just not sure how much time I have left.

CHAPTER FORTY-SIX

KAIN

Minutes pass before anyone comes to check the warehouse. A screeching sound fills the space, and light streams across the concrete floor as two men step inside. The first is a behemoth of a man, so tall he has to duck beneath the frame of the door to get inside. I recognize his cropped blond hair and ugly, square features as one of the merger “party” attendees who formed that useless circle around me.

The other, I don’t recognize. Shaggy black hair frames cruel, icy-blue eyes, though his mouth looks stuck in a perpetual smirk. He has a leaner build than the other, but the air he holds himself with is twice as deadly, twice as cunning—which is surprising, considering he can’t be more than sixteen.

I let out a low hiss, dreading the moment I’ll have to put a bullet in his head. He’s just a child. He doesn’t deserve it, but…

I kill that shred of mercy living in my chest with the reminder that it’s my life, or his—and there’s only one person in this world I’d give mine up for.

The men balk at the sight of Bear’s lifeless, crumpled body, at that perfect red circle between his eyes. The linebacker-sized one turns to the other, the shadows making his expression appear that much more furious.

“I told you we shouldn’t have left him alone!”

The boy just shakes his head. “Dumb bastard wouldn’t hear it. Wanted to take care of it himself.”

“Callum’s going to—”

“I’m not worried about Callum right now,” Blue Eyes murmurs, scanning the vast darkness of the warehouse. “He’s still alive.”

Square Face mirrors his partner, throat bobbing as he tries to scan the space for threats. “Maybe… maybe he’s bleeding out back there. There were so many shots. Maybe Bear was able to—”

“He’s alive.”

Silence ensues between the two, neither saying what the other is thinking. That they’re going to die. That I’m going to kill them.

The next couple of seconds seem to play out in slow motion. Square Face turns and takes a step forward, his back turned to the boy. There’s a flurry of movement, a sequence of strikes too fast for my eyes to catch, and Square Face crumples to the ground like his bones are made of jelly.

What the actual fuck?

The boy stands over the body, his head tilted at the heap at his feet. That smirk is unnerving compared to the cruelty in his eyes, so abnormal for someone his age.

“I can’t tell you how long I’ve wanted to do that.” The voice that echoes off the walls is not that of a boy. It holds an undercurrent of viciousness, a lifetime of experiences no person this young should have.

He lifts his head, staring at no spot in particular. “I was told you respond well to acts of service. Well, here’s my service.” He gestures at the heap just behind him, still staring blankly at the shadows. “Although, between the two of us, that would’ve happened eventually. He was just so dull.”

I shift from my crouched position, and the boy’s head whips toward me, a slow smile spreading his lips. “Ah. There you are.”

I cock the hammer of my pistol, letting him know he shouldn’t make any hasty movements. I don’t want to kill you, kid. Please don’t make me.

“Testy.” He tilts his head, his grin spreading so every one of his teeth are visible. Even though I know he can’t actually see me, a chill raises the hair on my forearms. Creepy-ass kid.

“Leave. Or I’ll have to fire.” Do the smart thing, Blue Eyes. You have your whole life ahead of you. You could leave now, start over, and actually live.

He clicks his tongue. “That would be unfortunate.”

That sound. That gesture—it’s so familiar. The way he walks, the way he talks, that brutal sheen in his eye… it’s one I’ve only seen once before.

The phantom in my father’s basement.

“Ghost sends his apologies. This was not supposed to happen.” All at once, the smile drops from the boy’s face. “He asks that you spare me and return to the cabin as soon as possible.”

A growl leaves my chest. You’re just as insufferable as he is.

“Who are you?” I demand. Why should I trust you?

“They call me Orion. I’m Ghost’s… apprentice, for lack of a better word. I’m also the one who got you all the information about Drew and Sandra.” That creepy-ass smile is back in place as he bends at the waist in a deep bow. His smile drops when I don’t lower the weapon, and he straightens with an eerie calm. “He was afraid you wouldn’t believe me. Said to give you this if you gave me any trouble.”

He fishes around in his pocket, then shoves a fist in my direction. The fingers uncurl eerily slow, revealing a small, rounded square of… something. A fingernail.

One look at that fucking smile tells me all I need to know. It’s my fingernail. Ghost must have stolen it after one of my father’s torture sessions and kept it all these years like the creepy fuck he is.

I give the boy an unimpressed glance, though I’m pissed Ghost has possessed this leverage—my DNA—all this time, and I never knew it. Never even suspected such a thing.

“How do I know it’s mine?”

“I think you know.”

I frown, finally stepping into the light to let him get a good look at the gun aimed at his chest. I might believe him, but I still don’t trust him.

He taps his chin. “While you’re contemplating whether to shoot me, Ghost wanted me to tell you one last thing…”

“Which is?” I demand, losing my patience when he stays silent for so long.

He clicks again, reminding me so much of Ghost as a boy. “I’m going to need you to put down your pew-pew before I relay it.”

I roll my eye but holster it anyway. “Tell me.”

He looks at me, and for the first time, something human flashes in his eyes. Something unnervingly like sympathy.

The words that leave his mouth next leave my chest wide open, sending me spiraling, tumbling into a rage so powerful, so potent, I swear it shakes the walls around me.

“They took her.”

They took her. They took her, they took her, they took her. My flower. My Lillith.

“Took you long enough to get here.”

His choice words cause a roar to explode from my chest, and I see Ghost flinch for the first time ever.

“Calm down. We’ll get her back.”

“Where is she?” I snarl, stalking toward his position on the couch. “WHERE IS SHE?”

“I’m trying to find out!” He shoots up, crashing the silver laptop on his lap to the floor. If I could see his face, I know it would be twisted with rage by the way he just cracked. Running a hand through his silver hair, he plops back down on the cushion. “I’m trying to find out…”

The kid beside me raises his hand, and we both jerk to face him. “What?”

“I might know something…”

“You’ve done more than enough,” Ghost hisses, that weird mechanical voice cutting in and out every other word. “I see you’ve met my underling. He must have failed to tell you he is why I sent you to that warehouse, for he’s still breathing.”

“It wasn’t my fault Skullcrusher gave me bad intel,” the boy grumbles, glaring at Ghost. “Callum specifically kept his boys out of the loop, worried there might be a mole in his midst. Guess he wasn’t as stupid as you thought he was. Either that or you’re not as smart as you think.”

Ghost shoots up, that black oval dead set on the kid. “It would be very unwise of you to test me right now. Are you testing me, Orion?”

He rolls his eyes but still mumbles, “Sorry.”

Ghost shakes his head. “Fucking teenagers. Okay, what do you got?”

Orion raises his head, his icy-blue eyes alight. “I know where they’re keeping her. Skullcrusher told me—”

“Isn’t that oaf the reason we’re in this mess in the first place?”

Orion glares and tightens his fists. “This is different. This is info he wasn’t supposed to have. Info he accidentally overheard.” He emphasizes the last word, and Ghost stands a little taller.

“Really?”

That smirk returns to Orion’s face. “They’re keeping her at Callum’s private residence. His new second is a gossip, and apparently was bragging about how he was going to…” Orion shifts his gaze to me and decides not to finish that statement. “Anyway, he’s having a private…” another look at me, “auction for her, and that’s where he’s holding her until then.”

Red. Everything is red.

“That won’t be happening,” I say, my voice deadly controlled. Orion shivers and takes a step away from me.

“It won’t.” Ghost nods, picks up his laptop, and clicks away. “We’ll save her. I promise.”

A heavy sigh leaves my lips. If there’s one thing about Ghost, he always keeps his word.

CHAPTER FORTY-SEVEN

LILLITH

The straps under my breasts pinch my skin painfully as Callum tightens the leather ties at the back of my neck. My “outfit” is made of interwoven pieces of leather, crisscrossing over my torso, ass, and thighs in an attempt to make me look more like a sexy leather-bound present. Not a sex slave. Present.

The thought has bile rising in my throat.

“Did you know your friend Drew was supposed to be the one to handle this? Such a shame what happened to him. Such a tragic loss of life,” Callum tuts, adjusting the leather straps that crisscross over my chest. The vile contraption he’s dressing in leaves nothing to the imagination, and by the look in his eye, he’s enjoying every bit of it.

I blink at him, wondering if this is really what he thinks will break me. Drew was a monster who wanted to harm me. Sell me, like this bastard. Fuck. Him.

Failing to get a rise out of me, Callum’s hazel gaze lights with malice. “You know, maybe I should give you a little test drive. After all, you’re not a fucking virgin anymore. What’s one more cock in that used cunt?” His fingers tighten on my forearm, and those pointed teeth snap close to my face, meaning to intimidate me. “You’re barely even worth it as it is. I might as well get my money’s worth. What do you think, baby?”

I take Callum in with a single glance, my expression set in stone.

“When Kain rips the skin from your bones, I think I’ll ask to help.” I’m not sure the voice that comes out is mine, nor do I know where the callous cruelty of the statement came from. All I know is my words are true, and the honesty of it shocks Callum enough that I’m able to wriggle out of his grip.

I press my back against the far wall, giving Callum a feral growl when he steps toward me, silent as a cat on the plush white carpeting of his bedroom.

He lunges at me, and I reach up, meaning to claw his eyes out. He swats me away easily, pinning me by the neck to the wall at my beck. His other hand paws my breast roughly, his fingers foreign against my exposed skin. Wrong.

“There’s that fire I was looking for.” His lips spread to reveal jagged teeth, filed to sharp points like a shark’s. He leans down to my neck, and I let out a roar as I rear back, blind to the pain as the back of my head slams against the wall. I use what little leverage I have to send my forehead into his nose, and a loud crack breaks the air.

“Fuck!” he screams, stepping back as blood gushes down his front. “You broke my fucking nose, you cunt!” He prods the area with his fingertips, wincing whenever he nears the bridge. The blood drip, drip, drips onto the carpet, making a god-awful plopping noise that has ants crawling beneath my skin.

“I’m going to fucking kill you,” he whispers, eyes crazed as he steps toward me, his busted nose forgotten. “I don’t care how much you’re worth, I’m going to make you pay for—”

“Boss?” The door swings open, revealing an ashen man in green leather. “You have a call—”

“Can’t you see I’m BUSY?” Callum roars, his face purpling. Something seems to snap back in place because as quick as the rage arrives, it vanishes from his face. He takes a deep breath, pushes his hair back, and turns to face his underling. “What is so important that you disobeyed my orders to be left alone? And before you speak, remember that your answer depends on whether I let you live.”

“It’s Madam.”

Callum’s shoulders go rigid. “Ah. I see. Well, in that case…” He turns to me, his eerie smile back in place. “I’ll have to deal with you later. In the meantime…” He spares a glance at the man at the door. “You may have your way with her until I return. Bonus points if you make her scream in agony.” A saccharine smile follows. “Goodbye, Lillith.”

As soon as Callum leaves, the man’s expression changes from unease to pure malice. I’m scared of this man. Terrified of this man, just as I am Callum.

My heart slams against my rib cage with each step he takes toward me, and even though every cell in my body screams for me to run, my mind knows that’s not a possibility. There’s nowhere to go.

When he’s feet away, I try to take him by surprise. I lunge, my fingernails poised at his eyes like I did Callum, praying this man—whoever he is—is slower than his leader.

Just as my fingers connect, he jerks back, and my nails scrape down his cheeks, leaving three red cat-like wounds.

“Shit!” He hisses, reaching up to assess the damage. When he realizes it won’t affect his already disgusting appearance, he sets his sights on me again. “You’re going to pay for that, cunt.”

He lunges. I try to scratch again, but he’s expecting me this time and pins me easily.

“So pretty,” he coos, sliding his slimy fingers up my inner thigh. A shudder runs through me, which the man mistakes for one of lust. “Mmm. That’s right. You’ll learn to enjoy this, slut.”

The vile words spewing from his mouth leave a sour taste on the back of my tongue, and my skin crawls at the feel of him against me.

“Get your fucking hands off me,” I snarl, trying to force my knees together. Against my wishes, a single tear escapes, which only seems to spur the man on further.

“I love when they cry.” He grins, standing and undoing his belt. I shut my eyes tight, the putrid smell of his sweaty cock invading my senses. I’m going to fucking puke.

There’s nothing—nothing I can do, no way to overpower the behemoth pinning me, so I close my eyes right and try to pretend I’m anywhere else. A field, a mountain, a lake, nestled in the middle of the forest, its water luminous, warm, and inviting…

There’s a loud booming sound, but only when I hear my attacker’s cry of pain do I open my eyes. His hands fall from my body, and another pair—a tattooed pair—-are wrapped around the man’s head, squeezing. Hard. While the sight of his face twisted in agony should terrify me, my heart soars.

Kain.

“Earmuffs, flower.”

That voice, that low, growly tone, pours over my skin, and lightning cracks in my veins.

Kain. You came.

His tone is more insistent than any I’ve heard before, but I can’t—I can’t look away. Not when Kain pushes his thumbs into the man’s eyes or when his massive palms press on either side of his temples, eliciting a sickening pop. A thunderous roar fills the space, and I fall to my knees as a dark pool spreads from the lifeless body.

“Kain,” I whisper, my chest so tight I’m sure my heart has burst. “Kain.” The word brushes my lips, filling me with so much warmth I think I’m on fire. He found me. He saved me.

“Lillith,” he whispers, his voice filled with agony that doesn’t belong to this earth. “What did they do to you?”

I shake my head, unable to speak the words that will ease that look. I’m fine, I want to say. Everything is fine now that you’re here.

Because it is. It really, truly is.

My smile is so wide I don’t notice I’m shivering until Kain says, “You’re cold.”

In a second, he’s shirtless, gesturing for me to raise my arms so he can put it on me. I don’t hesitate, too cold and desperate to be wrapped in his scent again. As soon as the tattered hem brushes my thighs, I take the first deep breath since I was taken and am surprised to find it smells like home.

Home.

“How did you find me?” I whisper, my skin humming as Kain wraps his arms around me. He pulls me impossibly tight, presses his lips to the side of my neck, and my heart sighs.

“I’d find you anywhere, my flower,” he whispers, swooping my legs out from under me and cradling me to his chest. “I also had a little help from Ghost.”

He presses his lips to the top of my head so gently I’m afraid I imagined it. That this is just some sick, trauma-induced hallucination. That I’ll wake up in a room full of wide smiles with all their teeth filed to horrific, jagged points.

“I’m here now, flower. I’m here,” he murmurs, cradling me so close, so tight, I’m worried I’ll break. I welcome the sensation.

“Can we go home?” I whisper.

Kain’s gaze softens. “Yes. Yes, Lillith. We can go home.”

CHAPTER FORTY-EIGHT

KAIN

She’s okay. She’s alive. Alive, alive, alive.

I repeat the words over and over as I make my way out of the house, passing enough gaudy Greek-themed furnishings to make me gag. Everything is horribly cloaked in white, shining marble. Flawless. Pure. Angelic. Everything the master of this place is not.

Everything I’m not.

I look down at the perfect little flower in my arms, my chest cracking at all she’s had to endure at my expense. No more. No longer. As soon as I get her out of here, I’m going to give her the life she deserves. A life away from me, if that’s what she desires—if that’s what she needs.

“Are you still cold?” I don’t know why I ask it—she’s long since ceased shivering, and her cheeks are heated to the most beautiful shade of pink. I just need something to break the silence, something to take my mind off the impending… loss of her in my life.

She turns those stunning emeralds to me, and my breath catches as her mouth tugs up in a little smile. “I’m never cold when your arms are around me.”

Oh God. A shot to the chest would have felt better than the pain those words bring. Such lovely, fine words from an even lovelier, finer woman.

“You’re perfect,” I whisper. I can’t help it. Can’t help it, can’t help it, can’t help it.

She reaches up, throws her arms around my neck, and then… and then she kisses me.

My mind goes quiet, only the low hum of satisfaction filling my head as she works her mouth with mine and opens up and lets me taste her.

Like summertime, like an ocean breeze, like a field of magnolias blooming just for me.

I love you.

One thought, breaking through the silence, demanding to be said. But I can’t. Not when I’m going to let her go. I won’t make the decision any harder for her than it is, not when I know at the utterance, she would shackle herself to me for life—not for love, but for fear of causing me pain.

That unending kindness is who she is. It’s one of the reasons I love her so much.

She pulls away, a whisper of something sweet on my tongue. But that smile—that smile I love so much—returns, full force.

“I’m so happy you—”

“Hush, flower,” I order, cutting her off. My heart aches, cries for me to hear what she was about to say, but I know I heard something, positive that rustle of brush wasn’t an animal. Someone is out here, stalking me. Stalking us.

I scan the decorative brush lining Callum’s driveway, watching for any sign of movement. I know I heard something. Come out, motherfucker.

I’m about to reach for my pistol when I see it—the glint of a revolver behind that tree three rows to the left.

I don’t have time to think, barely have time to move before that bang rings out. The bullet that was meant for Lillith lodges in my back, and a burning pain spreads from the area. My shoulder, I think he got my shoulder.

Two more shots ring out, landing close to the first, and I fall to my knees, curling my body further over Lillith’s. There’s a ringing, loud enough to drown out Lillith’s screams, loud enough that I don’t hear the fourth shot go off.

The pain—the pain is familiar. I can live in this pain—die in this pain, if it means Lillith gets out alive. I’ll protect her with my dying breath, and then I’ll let my useless body offer cover until his bullets run out. It’s what’s right. It’s what I have left to offer her.

I’m not sure how, but suddenly, I’m on my feet, running at a diagonal toward the edge of the driveway. A fifth shot rings, whizzing past my ear. I know the next one will ring true, will stop my useless heart, but I don’t stop running. If I can make it to the edge, if I can make it to the road…My vision tunnels, everything other than the precious flower in my arms fading to black.

No. Not yet, my heart cries. I need more time with her. I need more, more—

The ground meets me, and I have just enough strength to shield Lillith from the blow. I curl around her body, tucking her into a ball beneath me. He still has one bullet left. Just one, my flower, and this will all be over. Then you will be safe. From him, from me, from all of this.

From somewhere in the distance, I swear she’s calling my name. Kain… Kain… Kain.

But it’s not my name—not my real name, and regret replaces the blood I’ve lost, flows through my veins and pours out of me.

I’m sorry, Lillith. Sorry I never told you my name.

The sixth shot rings out, and the blackness swallows me whole.

CHAPTER FORTY-NINE

LILLITH

Screaming. Someone is screaming.

I push my palms against Kain’s shoulder, that ear-piercing sound filling my head as I desperately try to scramble out from under him. He’s heavy—so heavy, that I can hardly find the space to draw breath. I try not to think about that warm wetness seeping into my jacket, sticking to my skin, drip, drip, dripping from the man I love. Just like it did from my parents.

My mind cracks. Once. Twice.

I don’t know how, but suddenly, I’m out from under him, a dull pain emanating from my knees, bloodied and scraped from their battle against the concrete. I take one look at him—his pallid, lifeless expression—and my mind shatters.

“Kain!” I scream. “Kain, wake up!” I sob, yanking the mask from his face. He’s still breathing. He’s still alive. He has to be.

But if he’s not… I refuse to believe it. Refuse to let that be a possibility.

“You can’t leave me!” I cry, cradling his scarred face in my palms. “You can’t! You promised!”

Hopelessness grips my heart, squeezing with its icy, cruel fingers. And then I see it. There. His eyes fluttered.

I don’t care if it’s a trick of the light. I don’t bother to think about how it might be a hallucination of my deranged mind.

“It’s okay now,” I promise, starting to rip his shirt to get a look at the wounds. “Everything will be okay.”

I don’t know who I’m trying to lie to, but it doesn’t matter. It has to be okay. I’m going to make it okay.

“Lillith.”

I freeze, not sure if I hallucinated that weak, breath of a voice, or if—

“Lillith,” Kain rasps. “Leave me.”

My mouth pops, but before I get the chance to tell him I’m most certainly not doing that, he speaks again.

“Lillith… please.” His eye cracks open, blessing me with a shard of that glimmering silver. He must be delirious with blood loss because a slow, lazy smile curves the hard planes of his mouth. “If the last thing I get to do is look at you, I’ll die a happy man.”

“You’re not dying,” I assert, shaking my head. “I won’t let you.”

A sad little smile tips his lips, and his eyes flutter closed once more. No, no, no.

“That’s an order, Kain!” I sob, my voice cracking with every word. “You’re not dying! I’m not allowing it!”

He chuckles weakly, the motion causing the blood to spurt between my fingers. “I’m the one who gives the orders around here, Lillith. Now go. Run.” His face crumples with the same expression from all those years ago, and suddenly, I’m six years old and watching my parents bleed out in an alley—watching the only people I love be taken from this world—without a damn thing I can do about it.

I refuse to let that happen again. I can’t. I won’t

So even though his last breath was spent telling me to run, to save myself, I don’t. Summoning the same desperate strength from earlier, I grab Kain’s forearm and pull him to his side, using my knees as a block to keep him from tipping all the way to his stomach.

I’m deaf to the sound of footsteps prowling closer by the second. The footsteps don’t exist as I shove all five of my fingers into the holes circling Kain’s heart—don’t exist as blood pools around my digits knuckle-deep in entrance wounds on his back.

You’re not dying. Not today. Not on my watch. I just need to control the bleeding, and then… and then…

My heart bottoms out as reality comes crashing in. There’s nothing I can do. He needs a hospital, and no one is coming. We’re miles from the main road, miles from the nearest person who can call for help…

A sob escapes my mouth as I look down at Kain—my Kain—and how utterly, impossibly fragile he looks right now. This is wrong. One person shouldn’t have to suffer such pain, such crippling, terrible pain. He’s already been through too much, and I can’t do anything. Can’t—-

“My, my. This really is touching.” The voice that rings out behind me raises the hair on the back of my neck and has my gut screaming to follow Kain’s advice and run.

“Get any closer, and I’ll claw your eyes out,” I hiss, turning to face the monster with a nasty snarl.

He tilts his head, baring those pointy teeth as he takes in the situation. “It seems your hands are tied. But that was really cute.”

“Fuck. You,” I snarl, my muscles tensing as he steps closer. “I wasn’t trying earlier.” A bluff. A goddamned bluff, and he knows it by the way that predatory smile widens.

“By all means, then. Show me what you got. “He holds his arms out to the side and does a little twirl, that smile never wavering. “Ohhh, that’s right. You have to keep your fingers in those holes, or your precious Kain will bleed out. How sad for you.”

He steps closer. Once. Twice. “I think I’ll make you watch him die, then I’ll have my way with you. How’s that sound, Lillith?”

“Fuck. You.” I snarl, turning a feral gaze toward those soulless black eyes.

“How unoriginal.” Callum rolls his eyes as he reaches out, gripping my forearm in a steel grip. “Come on, now. You know he’s going to die anyway. Let’s not drag this out any longer.”

He pulls, and this time, I’m not strong enough. Not heavy enough to stop the massive biker from yanking me away from his body. My fingers slip from the holes with a horrible squelch, and another scream pierces the air.

“No!” I snarl, kicking, punching, scratching the air in hopes something lands. “NO!” I rear back, blind with panic, and something cracks into the back of my head.

“Fuck!” Callum yelps, his grip on me loosening enough for me to wriggle free. I crawl on hands and knees to Kain, deaf to Callum’s howls of pain as I shove my fingers back into those holes. If I can stop the bleeding, if I can just stop the bleeding—

“You fucking cunt!” The roar from behind me is a whisper on the wind, a blip on my radar. I need to stop the bleeding, I need to save him, need to save him, need to save Kain.

“You stupid fucking bitch. You’re not even worth it at this point.”

Someone cocks a gun behind my head, but I pretend not to hear it—pretend not to notice how similar it sounds to that night all those years ago.

I look down at Kain, at that face I love so desperately.

“I’m sorry,” I whisper, my chest cracking wide open. “Sorry I never told you I love you.”

Bang!

CHAPTER FIFTY

GHOST

I squeeze the trigger at the same moment Callum raises his weapon to the back of Lillith’s skull, and I can’t help but smile as that familiar sound fills the air.

Bang!

Callum’s eyes go blank, and he sways on his feet, a trickle of blood flowing from that perfect little circle in his head.

One Mississippi. Two Mississippi. Three Mississippi.

I mime an explosion with my fist as the body hits the ground, finally letting loose the laugh I’ve been holding in.

I still got it.

I sit back on my heels, rubbing out that ever-throbbing kink between my shoulders as I lower the barrel to the dirt. My body screams, but I ignore it as usual as I rise to my feet.

I press a button at the side of my mask, and the vision sharpens, homes in on the lovebirds at the end of Callum’s driveway. Lillith’s face is white, nearly as stark as her lover, bleeding out despite her fingers shoved into those wounds. She knows—just as I do—that he’s going to die if he doesn’t get some medical help, and soon.

I pause at the top of that hill, debating my next move carefully.

You could just leave, that selfish, insidious part of me sneers. Your services ended when Lillith was deemed free, and she most certainly is now that Callum is disposed of. Let him die—watch his lover struggle to grasp that thread of life in her hands.

But… that boy in the cell. The one with the fire in his eyes, in his heart… my friend.

“Fuck me,” I grumble, pressing another button at the side of my mask. A list of contacts swarms in front of my vision, and I scroll through until I find the number I want.

The line rings once, twice, and a shaky voice springs from my headset. Terrified, just the way I like it.

“Hello, Dr. Slater,” I croon. “I’m going to need to call in that favor you owe me.”

CHAPTER FIFTY-ONE

LILLITH

I’m alive. I’m alive. How the hell am I alive?

My body trembles from the aftershock, the reverberating thud of that body—Callum’s body—just behind me.

He’s dead. He’s dead. How the fuck is he dead?

I shake my head, trying to clear the fog of hysteria closing in on me. I have to focus. I have to find some way to save him. I steal a glance over my shoulder at the blood dribbling from the side of Callum’s skull. Someone shot him in the head. But who? And from where?

On instinct, I curl my body around Kain’s, no matter how useless it might be. If someone is going to try to finish him off, they’ll have to get through me first.

Seconds pass, then minutes, but no more shots ring out. I relax for a heartbeat, and that’s when movement catches the corner of my eye. There. By the tree line. Something—someone charging toward me in a full sprint.

I’m about to hurl some baseless threat their way, but then the light catches the side of that pitch-black oval, and it dies in my throat.

“Ghost,” I breathe, fighting the urge to rub my eyes and make sure that’s really him. How is he here? Why is he here?

“Is he still breathing?” he asks, the question coming between short bursts of breath.

I nod, not having the heart to check and make sure that’s still the case. “I think so.”

That oval nods, and he crouches down, slinging a backpack I hadn’t noticed onto the ground in front of Kain. Ghost pulls out a pack with a red cross on the front and rifles through the contents.

“Here.” He tosses a large square of packing gauze onto Kain’s chest, and I give him a seething glare. “What? He’s got five in the chest. A little gauze isn’t going to do anything.”

A feral urge to claw his eyes out takes hold, but I push it down. There are more important battles to face right now.

On autopilot, I pack the gauze into the wounds, not bothering to think about how little this will do for him now. It’ll hold for now. Until we get him to someone who can help.

I jump when Ghost places a hand on my shoulder. I can’t see his expression, but his energy is almost… sympathetic. It’s awkward, and that gloved hand still feels like snakeskin against my arm, but I’m grateful.

“What-what are we going to do now?” I whisper, my mind screaming that I don’t want to know the answer. Even with Ghost’s help, there’s no way we can move a man of Kain’s size, not without doing more damage to his failing body.

“Ghost?” I turn to him, numb to the tears falling down my face. “He has to live. I don’t know what I’ll do if he—”

The hand tightens on my shoulder. “It’s all been arranged. Just a little longer.”

As soon as the last word crackles from the mask, another sound pricks my ears. An engine. Then tires against a gravel road, growing louder by the second.

I raise my brows with a silent question, but Ghost doesn’t have to speak because a moment later, a massive black pickup truck swings into the driveway. The tires screech, leaving twin black lines on the freshly paved driveway as it barrels toward us. It stops so close that I can see my reflection in the obsidian paint, and if I wasn’t holding Kain’s head in my lab, I might have recoiled from the sight alone.

“Fuck, Orion. Cut it any closer?” Ghost seethes, slamming his palm on top of the hood. “Get out here and help me get him in the bed.”

A lean, dark-haired boy jumps from the cabin, his eyes rolling heavily. Wordlessly, he grabs a large blue tarp from the bed and lays it on the pavement next to Kain’s body. I shift to the top of his head, supporting his neck while Ghost and Orion shift the rest of him onto the makeshift stretcher.

“Get in the bed. I need you to help us slide him in.” The black oval nods in the direction of the truck bed, and I don’t think twice as I clamber over the side. We manage to get him in without too many bumps, and I crawl back up to his head, holding him in my lap like before.

Orion gives me a curious look. “You shouldn’t ride in the—” His voice cuts off at the feral glint in my eye, and Ghost just shakes his head at the boy.

“You’re not getting her away from him. If she falls out of the back, it is what it is.” A shrug, and Ghost turns, sliding into the driver’s seat with a wave for the younger to follow.

Orion spares me one last glance. “Ghost drives like a maniac, so hold on tight, okay?”

My throat bobs, but I give a steely nod. “Where are we going?”

Orion doesn’t bother answering. He merely shrugs and hops into the passenger side. I look down at Kain’s face, practically gray with the amount of blood he’s lost.

Wherever we’re headed, I hope it’s close. I don’t know how much longer he can hold on.

The drive is short. Short and treacherous.

As soon as we turn onto the main road, Ghost speeds in the opposite direction of the city. At first, I think we might be heading to the small emergency room just outside the county line, but then he veers into a small clearing of the forest just off the highway and starts barreling deep into the brush.

There is no road, nothing except a set of overgrown tire tracks to signal there is a way through at all. Just when I suspect Ghost is bringing us out here to dispose of us, the tree line breaks, giving way to a circular clearing with a four-walled structure in the center.

Ghost pulls to a stop outside a termite-rotted porch, and I take a minute to survey what I now realize is some kind of bunker. Its hickory siding is dilapidated, held together mostly by the tendrils of the vines covering the majority of the structure. What was once a window is crusted and fogged so much you can’t see through. Although, seeing as this is someone’s secret hideaway, that might be by design.

Kain lets loose a horrible, wet-sounding cough, and my heart lurches. There better be some serious medical supplies in that place, or…

I don’t finish the thought. I focus instead on helping Ghost and Orion get Kain down from the bed and safely inside the bunker.

There’s a steel-reinforced door—so out of place compared to the rotting wood around it—which Ghost opens by pressing the back of his hand to the space where a handle would be. It clicks, then shudders open, the hinges screeching from what might be years of disuse.

“Welcome to my childhood home. Ladies first.” Ghost jerks his head, and I step inside, making sure to give them a wide berth as they haul Kain inside, tarp and all.

I stifle a gasp as I look around the space. It’s clear the outside is a front, a rotting shell concealing the medical marvel hiding inside. Various machines and equipment whir along the walls, some beeping intermittently, some sporting computer screens and advanced surgical instruments I’ve only heard stories about.

I jerk my head over as Ghost and Orion slide Kain onto an operating table in the center of the room. An array of instruments are already lined up on a tray, a gown and gloves strewn lazily over the top. Not exactly sterile, but I can’t be picky right now.

I step toward the gown, picking up the thin material with shaking fingers. I feel just like I did all those weeks ago when Kain was brought into the hospital for the first time. Only this time, it’s worse. This time, I won’t have an experienced surgeon to rely on or any guidance for a surgery I’ve only witnessed.

“His head’s on the wrong end of the bed, just so you know.”

That voice… no. No, there’s no way. No possible, earthly—

“Dr. Slater. Thank you for finally joining us.”

I turn slowly, so slowly, and come face-to-face with that familiar, weathered face. His wiry brows shoot up as he takes in my face, at the blood coating my chest and arms. For a moment, it’s almost as if he doesn’t recognize me—doesn’t recognize the feral creature in front of him.

“Lillith. What-what are you doing here? Why are you with these people?” His steely eyes are wide, his thin lips parted in horror. “What—no one knew what happened to you. I thought—”

“This reunion is very touching”—Ghost interrupts, that oval practically mechanical as it turns to Dr. Slater—“but I’m going to need you to start operating.”

Slater’s throat bobs, his pale gray whiskers catching in the flickering ceiling light. His eyes flick to me in a silent question, and I give him a nod.

“Please,” I whisper. “You have to save him.” We’ll have time to talk later, time to tell each other what horrors led to us being here at the same moment. But now—now you have to save him. Please.

Dr. Slater examines my expression and the silent plea in my eyes. Then his face relaxes for the first time since he entered the room. Without a word, he turns to the tray of instruments. Leathered fingers curl around an ET tube package, and a grin pulls at the corners of his eyes as he places it into my palm.

Just like before, just like all those weeks ago, he gives me that calculating stare over the top of his spectacles. “I’m assuming you still remember something from your anesthesia rounds?”

This time, my voice doesn’t tremble as I say, “More than enough.”

CHAPTER FIFTY-TWO

KAIN

Beep… beep… beep…

Pain. There’s pain deep in my bones, curling its vicious tendrils into my marrow. I try to open my eye, but my lid is heavy. So very, very heavy. Heavy like cinder blocks strapped to my ankles, dragging me down, down, down the rabbit hole.

At least it’s quiet here. So very, very quiet. Quiet like the night, like a mouse, like the streets outside Lillith’s apartment…

Lillith. Where’s Lillith?

My eye cracks open, and my sight is filled with the most beautiful mossy green orbs. With what strength I have, I search her face, looking for any sign of distress, any ounce of pain.

She’s alive. Alive, alive, alive.

“Try not to move too much. You have a tube in your throat,” she whispers, running the side of her palm down my temple. “I don’t know if I have the heart to hold you down this time.”

Laugh. I wish I could laugh at that, show her how fine I am now that I know she’s safe. Alive.

“Kain, I—” Her voice cracks, and a single tear cuts a path down her beautiful face. “I thought I was going to lose you.”

I’d find you in every lifetime, little flower. You shouldn’t have worried about that. It was only see you later and never goodbye.

Soft footsteps call my attention over Lillith’s shoulder, and I’ve never been so glad to see that black oval in my life.

“You’re awake. You gave me quite a scare, dear.”

I raise my hand, flipping Ghost off with what little strength I can muster.

“So rude. And after I went through all the trouble of saving you.”

I freeze at his words, taking in my surroundings for the first time since waking. Where the hell am I? What the fuck happened to Callum?

Lillith places her hand on mine as if she can see the panic setting in. “This is Ghost’s… bunker?” She looks at him for confirmation, but he only shrugs. With a disgruntled huff, she turns back to me. “You’re safe now. Callum’s dead.”

“Thanks to me. I told you we were friends,” Ghost says, a demented little cackle sounding from behind that mask. Creepy bastard.

Lillith turns to Ghost, the picture of calm despite the strange outburst. “Where’s Dr. Slater?”

Dr. Slater? My brows knit with the question, but neither of them notices.

Before Ghost can answer, the door screeches open, revealing the weathered face of the physician. He looks just as he did in the hospital, minus the swishing white coat and air of authority I was so used to seeing when he would interact with Lillith at work.

He spares a timid glance at Ghost before scurrying toward my bed. It’s not a look of fear, but of guilt. Like one wrong move, and the mask will reveal all the skeletons in his closet.

The dirt Ghost has on this man must be considerable. Life-altering.

Dr. Slater looks me over with those steely eyes, then turns to inspect the monitor. He gives a little nod as if he’s pleased with whatever the numbers say.

“Okay,” he rasps, turning to Lillith. “I’ll sedate and remove the tube.” He straightens, daring to look head-on at Ghost. “After that, I’m leaving. I don’t want any more of this on my hands.”

When Ghost doesn’t answer, Dr. Slater lets out a little shudder. “Lillith is perfectly capable to take care of him now. You don’t need me anymore.” The last part almost sounds like a plea. When Ghost finally nods, Dr. Slater lets out a whoosh of air. His fingers tremble slightly as he fills a syringe, plunging it into the IV port before I have the chance to fight it.

I search Lillith’s face, desperately memorizing every inch of that beautiful face. If it’s the last time I’m able to see it, I want to make the most of it.

“It’s okay,” she whispers, cupping the scarred half of my face in her palm. “You’re going to be fine, I promise. We’re just going to take the tube out.”

Something in her voice calms that primal instinct to fight, smothers all the fire in my veins. She promised. And Lillith wouldn’t lie to me. She’s too good for that. Too kind, especially to beasts like me.

When the blackness swallows me this time, I don’t worry.

Muffled voices filter through my semi-conscious state, growing louder as the effect of the anesthetic wear off.

“He should be on bed rest for the next week, with dressing changes every six to eight hours.” Slater.

“Pain meds?” Lillith.

“Have him take one of these if it gets unbearable.” The transfer of a bottle—probably some heavy narcotic from the good doctor’s private stash. “And don’t let him near them.”

A hushed whisper, no doubt low enough to keep Ghost from hearing.

“This thing’s equipped with special hearing, just so you know.” A creepy mechanical cackle that can only come from Ghost.

There’s silence, then the sound of the door shuddering open. “I’ll take my leave. Lillith…” He pauses for a beat too long. “Just… take care of yourself.”

Footsteps recede, the door shudders closed, and I know the doctor is gone.

I open my eye, and I’m greeted with the beautiful sight of her once more. She’s staring at my monitors, too preoccupied to notice my searing gaze.

I clear my throat, testing out its soreness before I try to speak. At the sound, Lillith’s head whips over, and lightning cracks in my veins as her eyes meet mine.

Those eyes. The eyes that have saved me, not once but twice. Eyes that unlocked my mind to a world of color, a universe of emotion. Beautiful eyes, shining with the most beautiful of souls.

“Reinhold.”

Lillith jerks at the sound of my voice, at the raw emotion stored there.

“W-What?” Her brows knit. “What did you say?”

“Reinhold,” I repeat, my chapped lips carving upward in a grin. “That’s my birth name. Reinhold Hellfyre. I never got the chance to tell you before. It didn’t sit right with me, you not knowing. Now you do.”

Lillith’s lips part, surprise written clear across her lovely face. “You… you choose now, of all times, to tell me that?”

A chuckle rises, slips out of my open mouth, and fills the room. It hurts, but the pain is somehow lessened by the look on Lillith’s face. The joy.

“It seemed as good a time as any.”

“Well, you’d be very wrong about that,” she murmurs, reaching a hand toward my mouth. Softly, so softly, she runs her fingertip over my lips, tracing the curve of my smile. “I was worried I’d never get to see this again. I thought he… took you from me.”

Pushing the pain to a far recess of my mind, I wrap my arms around her and pull her to me, thrumming at the feel of her under my palms again.

“Oh, no—don’t mind me. I can watch this all day.”

Lillith freezes at the reminder of Ghost’s presence, and her cheeks heat the most adorable shade of pink before she shoves them into the crook of my shoulder. A laugh shakes my chest as I run my hand over her back in soothing circles.

I lob a glare in Ghost’s direction. “You could always leave.”

The oval tilts. “This is my house. You’re welcome, by the way.”

“Thank you,” I grit out, positive there’s an insipid little smirk behind that mask. “Why did you do it?”

“Do what?”

I give him a stare that clearly says I’m not playing this game.

Ghost sighs. “I told you I was your friend, Reinhold. Far better than that pissant Wesley.”

A pang radiates from where my heart sits, and I have to force all my energy on keeping the box closed with the memory of my best friend’s last moments.

Lillith stirs in my arms, and my control snaps back into place. I can mourn later. Right now, right at this moment, there’s more important things. Things to be grateful for.

“The doctor?” I ask, turning the conversation away from Wes. “How did you pull that off?”

Ghost shrugs. “He owed me.”

Lillith lifts her head, staring right at Ghost. “I assume you’re not going to share what.”

Ghost looks right back, not moving a muscle. “Something vile.”

Lillith grits her teeth, shooting a hateful look at Ghost. Without a word, she places her head back on my shoulder, seemingly aloof.

If I could see his face, I’m sure Ghost would be pouting.

He hangs his head, kicking his toe against the floor. “Everyone’s so boring.”

“Stop whining,” I grumble, rolling my eye at Ghost’s middle-finger salute. “And would you kindly fuck off? I want a minute alone with Lillith.”

“Fine. I have to find out where Orion sulked off to, anyway. Lillith.” He mocks a bow in her direction, pivots, and leaves the same way Dr. Slater did.

As soon as he leaves, I go to sit up in bed, but the disapproving stare from Lillith has me lowering just as quickly.

“You almost died, Kain. You’re going to rest for a while. Doctor’s orders.”

I shake my head, a smile tipping my lips as Lillith snuggles into my side. “I’m glad you’re still calling me Kain.”

“I figured there’s a reason you don’t go by Reinhold. Plus—and please don’t take this the wrong way—it’s kind of a shitty name.”

I bark a laugh. It causes a pang to ring from my wounds, but it’s worth it. “I guess I’m not supposed to take offense to that?” In answer, she shoves her face into my side, her body shaking with a giggle. “You’re a mean, wicked woman Lillith.”

“Hey! Am not! I totally could have left you for dead. That should be proof enough.”

It’s morbid and probably shouldn’t make me laugh so hard, but… I can’t help it. “I think I’ve rubbed off on you a little too much, flower.”

“No such thing,” she murmurs, pressing her lips against the slit of shin showing through the blanket. My body shudders, coming awake. And a considerable tent forms beneath the sheet.

Lillith feels the shift in energy and instinctively looks down.

“Jesus… is there enough blood left in you to do that?”

“So it seems.” She jerks her eyes to me, the picture of surprise. “Wanna see if it works?”

She slaps my arm ever so lightly, but a coy smile tugs her lips. “Maybe. But we’re not even thinking about it until you’re better. I mean it,” she adds, no doubt in reference to the devilish glint in my eye.

“Wicked woman,” I murmur, smoothing her hair back from her forehead. “Will you allow me at least one pleasure?”

“And that is?”

I hook my finger under her chin, drawing her face toward mine.

Beautiful. So beautiful. I wonder if I’ll ever catch her in a moment when I don’t find her completely, utterly enchanting. If this blackbird in my heart will ever stop singing at the sight.

In answer to her question, my gaze falls to her mouth, silently asking what my words will not. She reaches up, so light, so soft. And then, she presses her lips to mine, putting me out of my misery.

I kiss her gently, pouring everything into her that I can’t say. Hoping, needing her to understand.

I love you.

“And I, you, Kain,” she whispers, smiling against my mouth.

My muscles tense, but one stroke of her hand has me relaxing. “I didn’t know I said that out loud.”

She pulls back, giving me a full view of that heart-stopping grin. “I think I’ve heard that somewhere before. Sounds very… me.”

“Hmm.” My grip tightens on her waist, and I drag her back up to my mouth. “I wasn’t done with you.”

She kisses me back, and the air stills. Everything is quiet, still. Wonderful.

“I love you, my flower. God, do I love you.”

She nips my lip and brushes her nose against mine.

“I love you, Kain.” She kisses the tip of my nose once, twice. “And I know I always will.”

There’s never been lovelier words from a lovelier woman. It quiets all the chatter in my head and fills my veins with a wondrous sense of calm. She’s everything and more. Too good for me, for this world. Yet she chose me.

Chose me. Me, me, me.

“As will I, my flower,” I finally reply, letting every ounce of honesty pour through. “As will I.”

CHAPTER FIFTY-THREE

LILLITH

One month later…

The winter air whips against my frost-reddened cheeks, and I clench the bundle of white lilies tighter in my fist, fighting a shiver. The granite slab at my feet is a simple cut with an even simpler inscription on its face.

Wesley B. Crenshaw. Friend. Brother.

Tears prick the corner of my eyes as I place the flowers on the yellowed grass, the weight of Kain’s stare growing with my every movement. He won’t say it out loud, but I know he’s thankful I dragged him out to Moriton Cemetery today. Grateful for the outlet to mourn.

I turn my head slightly, taking in Kain’s posture, that unnatural rigidness of his spine as he stares at the gravesite. I know he’s thinking about that day, about every single one since. All the choices he’s had to make, the responsibility that now weighs on his shoulders.

The responsibilities of the king of not one but two powerful criminal organizations.

As soon as his injuries allowed him to walk, Landon and Carlotta were in contact, informing him of the mess the two clubs were in. The very next day, Kain started his new duty as leader, allowing himself to be dragged into meetings, ceremonies, and whatever was needed. He had no choice—everyone of power in the clubs had been disposed of, and if he had turned away… far worse people than Callum would have taken charge.

I take in Kain’s torso, the thick black sweater covering the fresh pink scars. His physical wounds have all but healed from that horrible day, but I know the scars on his mind will linger. I’m not sure what it does to a person—being forced to kill someone you love—but I imagine it sticks with you forever.

Maybe it’s good that he’s been so busy, unable to think about Bear. Good that his new duties have kept him so preoccupied, he hasn’t had the luxury to mourn his fallen friend.

“I miss him.”

I jump at Kain’s voice, so unnaturally raw and… broken. I grab his hand, giving that calloused palm a light squeeze to let him know I’m here. That it’s safe to feel.

“I know you do.”

His fingers tighten around mine, and he gives a barely perceptible smile. “You know he used to let the other kids beat on him?”

My brows hit my hairline. “Bear? No way.”

“Yes way.” Kain lets loose a small chuckle and shakes his head. “He used to be so… good. Better than the rest of us. He could have snapped those kids’ scrawny necks, but… he didn’t want to. He wanted to be different from the life he was forced into.” His free hand reaches up slowly, peeling the mask from his face. Out of respect for his fallen friend. Of who he was before the world turned him. “I should have seen it—the change in him. I should have done something.”

“There was nothing you could have done,” I whisper, leaning my cheek against his arms. “At some point… you have to realize your actions don’t have the power to change someone. Not really. Not even if you love them with all you have. He was going to choose that path no matter what you did—and maybe it was because he was so gentle and willingly took all that responsibility onto his shoulders. Maybe it was too much for one person. But it wasn’t your fault.”

I look up at Kain only to find he’s been staring at me the whole time. A small, sad smile tilts the harsh plane of his mouth, and my breath catches at how devastating he looks.

“You’re too good for me, Lillith,” he murmurs. “Too good for this world.”

I give him a small smile. “If you’re still trying to get rid of me, you might as well give up. I’m not going anywhere.”

A flash of teeth, then Kain leads me out of the cemetery, back down the stone path toward his motorcycle. There’s nothing but the gentle scuff of our shoes against the rain-soaked gravel to fill the silence, but it doesn’t feel strange or uncomfortable.

When we finally make it to the bike, I turn to Kain, tugging on his hand to get his attention. His brows knit as he faces me, a kernel of worry in that silver eye.

But when I throw my arms around his neck, his face relaxes, and he leans down to brush his lips against my forehead. Gently. So gently.

“Thank you,” he breathes, tightening his arms around my waist. “Thank you for being here. For being you.”

“I love you,” I reply. “I love you.”

“And I, you, little flower.” He leans down and brushes his lips against mine. “Endlessly. Hopelessly. Devastatingly.”

His palms slide under my ass, and he uses the leverage to lift me up onto the seat of the motorcycle. I let out a little squeal against his mouth, which he returns with a devious chuckle. “As much as I love kissing you in a cemetery, I have better plans for us at home.”

Home. My heart sighs, swelling two sizes too large for my chest. Then the innuendo Kain so heavily implied becomes apparent, adding color to my already pink cheeks.

“Okay,” I whisper, pressing my lips to his jaw. A small shudder runs through his body as I say, “Let’s go home.”

CHAPTER FIFTY-FOUR

KAIN

As soon as we’re inside the house, I grab Lillith and haul her into the bedroom. I toss her onto the mattress, only to follow a moment later. Leaning over her, I rake my fingers over her body, across her breasts and hips.

With a growl, I tear the shorts from her body in one powerful movement. Hooking my hands under her knees, I lift them over my shoulders and stand at the foot of the bed, holding her upside down with her ass pressed firmly into my chest, her pussy at the level of my mouth.

My breath fans over her, and she shudders as my lips wrap around her clit. I suck, gently at first, but the moans pouring from her mouth send me spiraling, and I eat her ravenously.

My fingertips dig into the mound of her ass as I lap at her arousal, drawing sounds from her that make me come undone.

I lift her from my shoulders, laying her face down on the mattress. The next second, I’m on top of her, one arm on either side of her head, caging her in.

“Such a sweet flower,” I groan, grinding my rock-hard cock against her entrance. “So fucking addicting.” Balancing with one arm, I reach down and dip my index finger inside her, coating it in her arousal.

“Such a good girl. Always so ready to take my cock,” I coo, adding another finger and shoving them up to the knuckle. I hook them, pressing forcefully against her G-spot and making her cry out. When I can’t wait a moment longer, I pull my fingers from her. She whimpers at the loss of sensation, only for it to be replaced with a moan as I position my head at her entrance.

I thrust forward, and my cock slips inside, drawing a scream from Lillith as her walls struggle to fit my entire length. I sink my teeth into the top of her shoulder as I fuck her, my movements frenzied, desperate.

Lillith’s walls convulse around me, squeezing my cock so tightly that I explode deep inside her. My breath hitches, and I slam my hips flush against her, shooting ropes of hot cum into her.

“Fuck, Lillith. You’re so fucking perfect.” I kiss her shoulder, loving the goose bumps left in my wake.

“So beautiful.” I run my hand over her back, tracing every wonderful curve with my fingers.

“So brilliant.” My hand stops at her thigh, and I press up just enough to flip her onto her back. Her eyes are wide as she stares up at me, every wonderful, fascinating emotion playing through her eyes like a slideshow.

Beautiful. So, so beautiful.

“I love you, Lillith,” I breathe, all but choking on my words. “I love you with everything inside this worthless, hollow shell. I love you so completely and effortlessly that it scares me.” I press my forehead to hers, allowing my lid to close. “I belong to you. Wholly. Endlessly. No part of me doesn’t belong to you, my flower. I’m in the palm of your hand, a vise wrapped around your little finger. And happy to be,” I add, pressing a kiss to her temple.

Lovely. So lovely.

“I love you, Kain,” she murmurs, wrapping her arm around my neck and giving me that little smile. “For now. Forever. Till the worms are eating me in the ground.”

A deep chuckle rumbles in my chest. “Who’s the morbid one, now?”

She just shrugs, her smile sending a shock of lighting to my marrow. “I guess it’s both of us.”

Us. Us, us, us.

Lost for words, I press my mouth to hers, pouring all of my adoration for her into the simple gesture. It doesn’t matter what’s going on in the outside world. My new responsibilities with the club or the death and destruction lie just outside these four walls. All that matters is her.

Lillith Harper. Beautiful, wonderful, sweet Lillith Harper.

I pull back enough to growl, “I don’t know what I’m going to do when you go back to work next week. I think not having access to you will kill me.”

She just laughs, swatting me lightly on the arm. “You’ll have to find some way to manage. Although…” She pauses, her cheeks coloring. “If I’m honest, I’ll hate that part too. Plus the nerves that come with starting somewhere new.”

“You’ll be amazing. Everyone will love you—just like they did at the other hospital.” With everything that happened, there was no way Lillith could go back to working at Moriton Memorial. Luckily, all it took was a payment to Ghost, and her strange “disappearance” looked like a leave of health. On Monday, she’ll start her residency at Banetown Emergency, getting trained to do what she’s always wanted—save lives. Plus, she won’t have to constantly look over her shoulder, worried someone might know her secret.

That she’s the new queen of the Hellfyre Motorcycle Club.

I look down at the fascinating creature in my arms and am reminded how sweet, how innocent she was when I first met her. How many layers I’ve uncovered, how many more lay in wait for me.

My phone buzzes from the nightstand, and I try to ignore it, but Lillith fixes me with a knowing stare.

“Kain, you have to. It could be someone from the club or—”

“I know, I know,” I groan, giving her one last languished kiss before reaching over and palming my phone. I flip it open and freeze at the number at the top of the screen.

Ghost’s number.

“What’s wrong?” Lillith asks, peering over to see the message. I angle the screen toward her, letting her read the cryptic message.

Ghost:

Going dark for a bit. FBI agent is on my tail.

I’ll explain later. Message my server if it’s urgent (and give my love to Lillith).

Lillith looks at me after reading it, the statement in her gaze mirroring mine.

“Well, that can’t be good.”

“No, little flower,” I murmur, pulling her closer to my chest. “No, it can’t.”

EPILOGUE

LILLITH

The tip of the revolver glints angrily beneath the flickering street lamp, and I step out from behind Mom's knees, directly in the line of fire.

The dream carries on as normal, no one seeming to realize that I've stepped closer to the bad man.

"I don't want your life, but I won't think twice about taking it if you don't give me what I want," he snarls, waving the gun at Daddy's chest.

I should be afraid, but it's the opposite of what I feel. I look up at the bad man, the monster who killed my parents, and I start to grow. In seconds, I'm no longer the six-year-old girl, helpless to do anything but watch her parents murdered in cold blood. I'm no longer scared, no longer fear the shadows curling in on me from all sides.

I look directly over the bad man's shoulder, searching for that silver gaze that has been there the whole time. Watching. Waiting.

The boy—my savior—meets my eyes. His chin tips, giving me a near imperceptible nod. Understanding. Approval.

It feels like my body is moving through water as I turn and grab the gun from the bad man's hand. He doesn't react, doesn't even flinch as I take that weapon and press it to his temple.

"Do it, flower. Kill him."

I've never felt more at peace as I pull the trigger.

A mighty yawn tears from my mouth as I stretch out in bed, pushing my face deeper into the pillow and breathing in Kain's scent. I fucking love that dream.

The relief that flooded my veins a moment ago is just now ebbing, and I reach out to Kain's side of the bed, frowning when my hand is met with cold bed sheets. I press up on my arm, holding the blanket over my swollen, abused breasts. Kain was especially pent up last night, and I was secretly hoping we could go another round before he left for the club this morning. The nights he lets the beast out are my favorite, and I no longer feel guilty for reaping the benefits of his twisted fantasies.

I run my hand over his side of the bed longingly, a spark lighting my chest as my hand comes into contact with a note under his pillow. I rip the note out, and my eyes pour over the messy scrawl greedily.

I fold the note delicately, pressing my lips to the small paper square as I throw my legs over the side of the bed. I tuck it into the bedside drawer with the hundreds of others, then make my way into the bathroom to get ready for my shift at the ER.

After everything that happened, I didn't feel safe returning to Mortiton Memorial. There were too many horrible memories, too many reminders of the lie I used to live in. So when Ghost was able to get me into an internship at a small hospital just outside the city, I broke into a happy dance. Finally, I won't have to look over my shoulder. Finally, I can save lives like I've always dreamed.

I step out of the shower half an hour later and let out a yelp when I realize the time. Shoving my legs into my scrub pants, I throw my hair up into a messy bun before heading over to Geralds cage to give him his morning meal.

“Sorry, buddy. I don’t have time for scratches this morning,” I murmur, petting his tiny mouse head with my index finger as I fill his food bowl. His little arms splay in a stretch, and my heart squeezes as I murmur one last goodbye.

Checking the time again, I tear into the kitchen, snagging the thermos of coffee and lunchbox Kain always leaves for me. When Kain realized I wasn't eating at work, he practically threw a fit. Ever since then, I've woken up to a lunchbox filled with meals that would make five-star chefs jealous.

It certainly makes my co-workers jealous. It's gotten so bad that I've even had a few people offer to pay me to trade lunches. I could never part with the delicacies that Kain packs me, but a few offers have been tempting.

"Bless you, beautiful, beautiful man," I moan, savoring the sip of perfectly brewed coffee on my tongue. I look at the lunchbox, debating whether I have time to sneak a peek at what he packed me today. Another quick glance at my phone tells me I don't, so I hurry from the cabin.

"Morning, Herb! Morning Sally! Morning babies!” I call, waving toward the large wooden pigeon coup beside the greenhouse. A soft coo sounds across the distance, and my grin spreads wider. I can make out Herb’s green iridescent feathers from here, shining brightly in the morning sun where he sits on his perch. Sally sits at his side, preening the feathers on his back while keeping a watchful eye on her nest.

The babies haven't hatched yet, but Kain thinks it's getting close. He's read a lot about birds—specifically pigeons—since he brought Herb and Sally home, so I've been talking to them daily, preparing for the moment I get to meet Herb's fledglings.

I still don't know how Kain found the pigeons or managed to capture them, and he seems to find some sick joy in my not knowing. Like it's a secret between him and the birds.

"I'll see you guys later! Don't let those babies hatch without me!" I tease, laughing at the coo that sounds in response. My steps are light as I walk to my new car, and for some reason, I find myself whistling.

My eyes scan the chart in my hands, looking over the patient’s information. The woman in front of me was admitted after a nasty tumble down the stairs. At least, that’s what she’s claiming.

I’d taken one look at the yellowed bruises around her throat and the fresh cut on her upper lip, and I knew she had lied. I take a quick glance at her over the top of the chart, and my heart squeezes at the hollowness in her light brown eyes.

Without a word, I stand and walk to the door, peering both ways down the hallway before pulling it closed. When I return to the bedside, the woman’s eyes are searching my face, an unspoken question shining behind those hollow pools.

I place my hand at the edge of her bed, meeting her with a gaze that says I know.

“Is there a reason you said you fell down the stairs, Jill?” I ask, keeping my voice soft. Her eyes jerk to the door, and I shake my head softly. “It’s okay. No one can hear you in here. You’re safe.”

Her throat bobs, and her eyes glaze over as she stares at a spot on the wall. “I’m never going to be safe. Not while he…”

I place my hand on top of hers, and her eyes fill with tears as she looks up at me. “I’m scared.”

“I know,” I whisper, my heart cracking at the sight. “If you tell me who hurt you—”

She shakes her head violently, cutting off whatever I was going to say. “It won’t make any difference. You don’t understand. His family, they’ll make it go away. Or worse. I’m afraid they might… hurt me.” The last words are barely a whisper, combined with another frantic glance toward the closed door as if her attacker will appear there any moment.

I squeeze her hand lightly, drawing her attention back to me. “What if I told you I know someone who can take care of your… problem?”

For a second, there’s a sparkle of hope in her eyes, but just as quickly as it comes, it fades, replaced with that hopeless melancholy. “I already told you. The police won’t do anything. I’ve tried.”

I shake my head slowly. “I’m not talking about the police, Jill. Just tell me the name.” I’m not sure what she sees in my eyes, but it’s enough for her to take a deep breath.

And whisper his name in my ear.

I pull back with a nod, my silent promise to her. This man—no, this monster—will be dealt with.

“I’ll be right back,” I say, patting her hand before standing and moving to the door. “I promise.”

Pulling out my phone, I thumb over to Kain’s contact and dial the number. It rings once and then clicks through.

“Hello, flower,” the voice purrs. “Who do you have for me today?”

A twisted smile tips my lips, thinking of all the ways Kain will make the stranger pay for what he’s done to that poor woman. After all, I have a duty as a physician and will protect my patients by any means necessary.

A year ago, the thought of darkness living inside me would have made me shudder. Now…

When I tell him the name, it’s satisfaction—not regret—that floods my veins.

I guess if you dance with the devil long enough, you pick up some of his habits.

If you want a sneak peek at Ghost's twisted story, click here.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Mindy Paige was born and raised in Florida. She started writing at a young age. After getting her degree in botany, she decided to pursue her dream of being an author. Her debut romance novel, Time and Tide, was written while finishing her senior year of college.

If not writing or reading, Mindy can usually be found playing with her dogs, tending to her plants, watching reality television with her boyfriend, or painting.

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