Deadly Devotion (Deadliest Love #5)

Prologue

DAISY

“Ivy?” I croak, fighting against my hoarse throat to form words. “Ivy?”

“It’s okay,” a soothing female voice says. The stranger places her hand gently against my clammy forehead. “You’ll be safe here.”

Safe? Nowhere is safe. I open my eyelids to take in my surroundings, but there’s not a lot to see. The small room is dimly lit with a clinical smell, making me think of a Victorian hospital.

“Where is my sister?” I ask.

The woman doesn’t reply. Instead, she retrieves a wet flannel and dabs my face.

“Where is she?” I press.

Someone else moves behind the woman, and a gruff male voice I don’t recognise speaks. Instantly, my entire body freezes. My thighs involuntarily tighten and squeeze together, which exacerbates the pain between them. I can’t remember a lot of what happened before I ended up here. Everything is a haze, but a sickening dread knotting in my stomach tells me it’s better left forgotten.

“You need to rest,” the woman says.

I ignore her and cling to consciousness, forcing my eyes to stay open to take in every detail. She smells like expensive perfume—way more luxurious than the kind I usually buy from a department store, and her glossy, golden hair gives her an angelic appearance.

“We don’t need to talk now,” she says. “We’ll talk more when you’re feeling better. You’re stable now, and I’m going to leave you with Hale. He’ll make sure nothing happens to you.”

“I’m not going anywhere,” a rough cockney voice says.

Yeah, like I’m going to be reassured by the looming presence of an unfamiliar man when I’m at my most vulnerable.

The man enters my field of vision. Holy fuck. He’s a giant with a fully-shaven head. He has an unsightly scar that trawls down the side of his neck and spills onto his lightly stubbled chin, meeting a tattoo that I can’t make out the design of. His white t-shirt appears translucent in this light, giving me a hint of the black and grey ink covering the rest of his body.

My shoulders tense. He’s the type of guy you read about in an enemies-to-lovers book—not someone you want to see after waking up in a strange place after…what happened. I gulp and choke down the vomit burning the back of my throat with my returning memories.

“I’ll see you later, Hale,” the woman says, flicking her hair over her shoulder as she leaves. Even though I don’t know her, I’d rather she stayed and didn’t leave me alone with him, but I’m too tired to argue.

Everything fucking hurts: my legs, arms, ribs, and face. I throb from head to toe. Some of my limbs are bandaged in hard casts, restricting my movements. Other wounds sting, and nothing feels like it’s in the right place.

“She’ll be fine with me, Steph,” the man—Hale—says.

I look at the tubes feeding into my arms attached to machines. If the pain doesn’t kill me, the sketchy-looking medical equipment or Hale probably will.

Hale steps forward. His presence makes the room shrink, and the air thicken. Each suffocating breath makes my ribs jab into my lungs like they want to punish me for surviving. I squirm a little, trying to move away from him. He senses my reluctance as he pauses and doesn’t move any closer. I shut my eyes and focus on my thunderous heartbeat, pounding louder than a drum in my ears. It provides little comfort.

“I know you’re not asleep, broken Dove,” Hale says with an unexpectedly soft tone, directly contrasting the roughness of his deep, rumbling voice.

I ignore him and pretend to sleep.

“You may not trust me now,” he says. “But you will.”

The bed dips as he sits at the end of it. I stay motionless, hoping he’ll take the hint and leave me be. If Ivy was here, she’d tell the hunky stranger to get his toned tush away, but I’m not like her. She’s the bold one. The brave sister. The one who isn’t afraid to say what she thinks, but me? I’m sensible. Ivy often joked that I didn’t have to be sensible on her account, and I’d roll my eyes while reminding her she wouldn’t be able to function without me. Although, maybe I’m just afraid to let myself go. Being sensible is easier. Safer. While Ivy reacted on impulse, I preferred to reflect and consider my next steps carefully. When she had a fiery temper and screamed the house down in a tantrum, I’d be the extinguisher to douse the inferno.

I scoff at the stranger, unable to help myself. How dare he think I’d trust him? I don’t know him, and I haven’t been in a bed with a man since I had a clumsy teenage fumble.

“See?” Hale says. I can hear the smile in his voice but won’t give him the satisfaction of looking at him. If he’s about to put me out of my misery, I’d rather be oblivious about what’s going to happen next. He could break my neck with his pinkie finger. “You’re stronger than you think. You’re broken now, but we’ll mend you and put you back together. I’m going to be here for you every step of the way. You’re exactly what I’ve been looking for.”

Fear strikes in my core. His underlying possessive intention makes the memories rush back like a freight train bursting through my deep subconscious.

I feel them now. Their sweaty bodies. Hands touching me. The twigs scratching my back as I left my physical body behind and looked down over myself like a ghostly apparition. Hearing Ivy screaming was the worst part. I could distance myself from physical pain, but hearing her pleading broke me. She begged for our lives until I couldn’t hear her anymore. Until all that lay before me was darkness. When I came to, Ivy was out cold. Dead. Spencer—the man I’d always hated—then turned his attention to me. And again, I lay still until it was finally over… or at least I thought it was.

“Hey!” Hale’s powerful arms grip my shoulders. “It’s okay.”

His touch makes it worse. My body is overcome with uncontrollable shakes. He tries to hold me in place, but my shaking worsens the more he tries to restrain me.

“Don’t touch me!” A piercing wail bursts from my lips as I thrash around. I hear the unmistakable terror in my voice and hate how helpless I sound. “Let go of me!”

Why didn’t I fight back? Why didn’t I do more? Ivy tried to fight for me. She truly did. She didn’t stand a chance against them, but at least she tried. I did nothing. I drifted in and out of consciousness. I didn’t try to stay awake. No, I welcomed the darkness and wanted it to take me. I succumbed. I let it happen.

“I’m sorry,” Hale murmurs, jumping back as if he’s read my mind and seen the horrible thoughts racing through it. “I won’t hurt you. I will never hurt you, Dove.”

My eyes snap open, properly seeing him for the first time. He looks down at me like I’m the most fragile and precious thing in the world. Something he doesn’t want to break.

“My name is Daisy,” I say, hopefully coming across stronger than I feel. “Not Dove.”

A smile graces his lips, but it’s not a happy one. There’s a sadness nestled in the corners of his quirked-up mouth, like he’s accepting something he hates but understands it’s inevitable. He has secrets to share, but he doesn’t want to say them. Not yet, anyway.

“You’re my Dove now, Daisy,” he says. “Your old life is over. There’s no going back.”

“But I want to see my sister,” I plead, hoping he’ll take pity on me. I suspect there’s an inner softness hiding behind his muscles. “Please.”

“I’m sorry,” he says, sounding genuinely apologetic. He brushes the side of my face with the back of his rough forefinger. I shiver as his warm touch sweeps along my collarbone, leaving a toasty trail behind that lingers after he drops his hand. “You’re one of us now. This may not be the life you wanted, or the life you would have chosen, but your future has been decided. I can’t say it’s going to be easy, but I’ll keep you safe. No one will ever hurt you again. Your wings have been temporarily clipped, and it’s up to me to help you fly.”

“I’ll never fly,” I mutter.

“Not yet,” Hale says. “But you will…”