Chapter 36
CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
ADDIE
Isat on the edge of a chair in the Blackwood family room, trying not to bleed on anything. The room was ordinary in a way that felt almost aggressive. Too lived-in. Too soft around the edges.
In my father’s home, there had never been space for children.
The furniture was imported, immaculate, sharp-edged.
You didn’t use it so much as exist around it.
One smudge from careless kid fingers and his anger came swift.
Elias and I had grown up in the corners of rooms like that. Perched. Contained.
The Blackwoods had given childhood an entire room.
The sofa was worn thin in places; the fabric faded where bodies had sat and shifted and leaned into one another for years.
The walls needed painting. On a shelf nearby, labeled VHS tapes sat beside DVDs—Christmas ’98, Magnus’s First Goal, Astrid's Third Grade Recital, cartoons mixed in with family movies.
I could picture Vidar here. Not watching the screen. Watching the room. His parents. His siblings. Sitting close, listening more than he spoke. Enduring a hug without pulling away. Existing within the warmth of this space.
"How are you doing, love?" Mei Ling asked.
"I’m fine," I said automatically.
She nodded, as if I’d given the expected answer, then glanced down. Her eyes landed on my hand, on the finger where Dante's claws had sliced the skin. Blood had spotted the fabric beneath my fingers.
I reacted on instinct, yanking my hand back like I’d been caught committing a crime. "I’m sorry—I didn’t mean to—"
Mei Ling caught my wrist before I could tuck my hand away, her grip firm but kind.
She guided my hand back, resting it deliberately on the arm of the sofa.
A single drop of blood slipped free and darkened the fabric.
Before I could protest, she reached for a first-aid kit tucked neatly beneath the side table, as if minor injuries were an expected part of daily life.
She worked with practiced ease, dabbing at the cut and inspecting it with a small frown of concentration.
"Hey Siri, " she said calmly, not looking up. "Call Gunnar. "
Her phone chimed, then connected. There was a pause—and then the unmistakable sound of a man crying out in pain, raw and gut-deep, echoing faintly through the speaker.
"Yeah, Ma? " Gunnar said, slightly out of breath. "I’m in the middle of something "
Mei Ling peeled open a box of bandages, pausing just long enough to consider her options before selecting one decorated with tiny pink crowns. "Did you know that deplorable man you’re chatting with wounded your sister’s index finger? "
Silence. Then, carefully measured: "No, Ma. I didn’t know that. I’ll take care of it. "
"Thank you, dear boy."
"Love you, Ma."
"Love you too."
Dante’s wail cut off mid-scream as the call ended.
Mei Ling smoothed the bandage into place and gave my hand a gentle squeeze. "All done, " she said brightly.
The door burst open hard enough to rattle the frame. I startled despite myself.
Vidar filled the doorway. For the first time since I’d met him, he looked wrong. His tie was gone. His collar was open. His hair was no longer perfectly disciplined. He looked like a man who’d moved fast and hadn’t stopped to fix himself afterward.
He didn’t look at his mother. He didn’t look at the room. He didn’t look at anything except me.
Mei Ling cupped my cheek and pressed a kiss to my forehead. "He’s going to need to fuck you, just to reassure himself you’re all right."
Vidar groaned. "Ma."
I winced. "Mrs. Blackwood."
She grinned at me, delighted. "Call me Ma."
Then she patted my cheek once more, turned, and left the room without another word, closing the door softly behind her. Silence rushed in to take her place. Vidar was still standing where he’d frozen, eyes dark, jaw tight, breathing just a little too controlled.
"I told you to stay at the office, Addie."
"I’m fine."
He stopped a few feet in front of me, jaw tight.
His gaze locked on my body, searching, as if he was counting limbs, checking for damage he couldn’t see.
Slowly, deliberately, he sank down in front of me until he was prostrate.
The impact of his knees on the rug sent a shock through me, heat flaring low and fast. My pulse spiked hard enough to make me dizzy; my body reacting before my pride could intervene.
Something inside me surged in response, my pulse racing violently, like desire and danger shared the same language.
"Did he hurt you "
I lifted my hand with the bandaged finger. "Your mother handled it."
Vidar's eyes focused on the band-aid. He took my hand in his. My heart slammed hard against my ribs—too fast, too forceful.
It didn’t hurt.
It felt good.
I wanted it to hit like that again.
"I’m surprised you’re here with me. Instead of joining in on the fun."
My father wouldn’t have come running. He would’ve used my injury as justification. Hurt the man who touched me—then turned around and punished me for needing protection at all.
Vidar peeled back the bandage his mother had wrapped, his touch so gentle it felt almost reverent. His gaze sharpened as he took in the cut. His eyes went cold.
"I’m not fragile."
"No, you're not. You're brilliant, my sweet Addie."
He folded the bandage back into place, secure, then lifted my hand and pressed a kiss to my finger. A small dot of my blood stained his lower lip.
I knew what it looked like when blood left a body. How still everything became afterward. This wasn’t that.
Every fluid in me surged. More than my blood; sweat, adrenalin, tears, desire. That was a fluid, right? All of it was pressing down hard on my clit.
"Feel better?" he asked.
"Yes. It does."
"Good. Take your clothes off."
My brain short-circuited as if I’d taken a blow I hadn’t braced for. One moment I was upright and thinking, the next I was nowhere. Lights out, sound distant, the world reduced to pulse and heat and the strange relief of not having to make decisions. Only to do as I was told.
Vidar leaned in, forehead brushing mine, his voice dropping. "My mother’s right. I'm going to need to fuck you to assure myself you're all right."
He wanted to fuck me. Right here. Right now. On this couch. Instead of acquiescing immediately to what we both wanted, all I could think was that I was going to get another fluid on the family room couch.
"Tell me you want it, sweet Addie. Because I'm either going to listen to your words, or I'm going to listen to your body. If I listen to your body, I'm going to do whatever the fuck I want. If you tell me what you want, I might give it to you."