“What happened to my brother?” If I didn’t ask now, I’d never get the chance again. This thing, this current, would still be here once all the asking was done.
“I put that scar on his face.”
“What? Why? How?” And why would my family cover that up? Lincoln seemed ready to jump at the chance to throw Caspian to the wolves. Why lie to protect him?
“That’s three more questions.”
“You aren’t playing fair. You aren’t even answering me.”
“Yes, I am.”
I threw my head back and groaned. This was like talking to someone who spoke a different language. I needed a decoder ring to figure his cryptic answers out.
“Fine. I’ll give you this one. Lincoln showed up at my house the morning after I brought you there. He fucked up my car and started talking shit, so I fucked up his face and shut him up.” He moved closer to the door, as if he was worried his truth would be the end of it—the end ofus. “I gave him that scar with a piece of glass and my bare hands.”
“Oh.”
“I never said I was a nice guy, Tatum.”
You don’t know what he’s capable of.
I did now.
I knew.
And I didn’t care.
Because even though Caspian hurt my brother—and God only knew who else—I knew he would never hurt me. I’d dug deep enough to find the darkness, and I wanted to lay in it with him. Whatever that made me, I would accept it.
“I know.” I took a step toward him. “I know what you are.”
“Do you?”
Another step. “I do. I also know who I saw on that stage earlier today, and it wasn’t the monster you pretend to be.”
He narrowed his gaze. “You think I’m pretending? You think a few rare touches and a love song are going to change me? I’m not some broken hero who needs to be redeemed. This is who I am. This is who I was born to be.” He was close enough now that the breath of his heated words danced across my face. “The monster willalwayswin, because the thirst for power runs through my veins. It’s time you accepted it, sweetheart. You didn’t choose the prince. Hell, you didn’t even choose the villain. You picked the motherfucking dragon none of them can slay.” His chest heaved, and there was fire in his eyes.
“That’s not true.”
“No?”
I shook my head.
“Then maybe Lincoln was right. Maybe I need to show you.” He reached up and casually twirled a strand of my hair around his finger. My eyelids fluttered shut, then opened again. I let out a shaky breath. He let go of my hair. “Here’s what’s about to happen. I’m going to count back from three—no—I’ll start at five to give you more time. Do you know what happens when I get to one?”
I said nothing.
I did nothing.
I was frozen. Something akin to panic welled up inside me like wildfire, pulling my lungs tight. I believed he would never hurt me, but I’d also believed my family would never lie to me.What if I was wrong?
Caspian leaned in and whispered against my ear. “Do you want to know what happens when I get toone?”
I shook my head.
He leaned back and stood up straight. His lips curved into a satisfied grin. “Then I suggest you start running. Five…”
My heart hammered. My brain screamed at me to run, but my feet were nailed to the ground.