Page List


Font:  

I set down the full glass of water, sending little drops flying on the countertop. The bed beyond us is empty, just ruffled sheets and the imprint of my father’s form. He’s gone for testing in another part of the hospital.

It’s just us here.

“Please,” I whisper. “Just… leave me alone.”

“Alone?” Tristan repeats. “Alone?”

He doesn’t sound angry, but I’m starting to understand him now. His anger simmers just beneath the surface. He masks it well.

But it’s always there. Ready to break at a moment’s notice.

He grabs my jaw and jerks my head up, forcing me to look at him.

“You will never be alone,” he promises me. “Not anymore. You are mine now.”

To drive home his point, he pinches the skin of my ring finger.

There isn’t a ring there. Not yet.

But there will be.

And he’s reminding me of that. But he’s also reminding me that he doesn’t need a ring to claim ownership of me anymore.

It’s ironic, really—in order to save my life, I’ve ended up bartering it away.

“What else did he say to you?” Tristan asks.

“You heard the whole conversation.”

“Not the first part,” he tells me. “Did he sing you sweet nothings? Promise to protect you always? Did he tell you he loves you?”

Of course he wants to know. He wants every piece of my relationship with Cillian.

So that he can peel it apart and poison it. To ensure that anytime I look back on my memories of Cillian, they’re laced with pain.

“He came to say goodbye,” I reply in a monotone voice.

“Did he now?” Tristan asks with mild amusement. “Is that all?”

“Yes.”

“Because from where I was standing, it sounded like he wanted you to run with him.”

Goosebumps prickle my skin, but I hold my own and shrug.

“I said no.”

“That’s right. Because you’re smart. You know that he’ll never be able to keep you safe. Not like I can.”

As if that were some swoonworthy romantic quip, he leans in and presses his lips to mine.

It takes all my strength not to cringe away from him. But my body goes stiff. My lips lie unmoving against his.

He can try and steal my submission from me. But that doesn’t mean I’m going to be willing to give it.

His lips leave mine with a hollow pop. His face is expressionless, but his eyes are angry.

He seems to realize that he can make me submit to this fucked-up arrangement. But he can’t make me participate.


Tags: Nicole Fox Kovalyov Bratva Erotic