Chapter 13
My eyes snap open as I take a deep, shuddering breath. The edges of my vision are blurry, but I would recognize my bedroom anywhere. Panic overtakes me as I pull my hand away from between my aching legs, my fingers glistening in the firelight as my cum drips from them, soaking the sheets.
“Kryx,” I bark as I sit up, yanking the covers off my sweat-slicked body. I slide out of bed, pulling the sheet off with me and wrapping myself in it as I keep shouting his name, my panic turning into anger. “What the fuck was that? And where the fuck are you?”
I stomp into the living room, expecting him to be there with his fucking malicious smirk plastered on his face, but the room is empty, and the only sounds are the howling wind outside and the crackling fire. The flames that were burning in my chest are doused with ice-cold water.
He’s not here.
Once again, I’m completely alone.
I back slowly into my bedroom, feeling the urge to shower—needing to wash away the sensation of him as it crawls across my skin. I need to silence the voice in my head that sounds just like him and come to my senses.
He’s a monster—a demon.
And here I am, utterly devastated to wake up once again and find that he’s not here—that he didn’t stay.
He keeps claiming that I’m his, but he doesn’t get to own me if he’s constantly abandoning me in my most vulnerable moments, like everyone else has.
He’s making me look weak, and I haven’t fought for years to master the art of fucking people over—keeping everyone at arm’s length—just to be fucked with by an imaginary beast from the North Pole.
“Fuck you,” I say through gritted teeth into the empty room. “I’m done with you. I’m done with your games. Leave me alone and don’t come back.” I hope that wherever he is, he can fucking hear me.
I stumble into the bathroom and turn the shower to the hottest setting I can handle, letting the burn seep into my skin and turn me red.
I scrub my skin with my loofah, desperately trying to remove any traces of him, watching as it all goes down the drain.
The anger that was left suddenly shifts, and my tears mix with the water pouring over my head, burning my skin even more.
How could I be so fucking stupid to think that a monster—no different from me—would stick around after getting what it wanted? What was owed? That I would be anything more than a toy for him to play with until he grew bored and finally threw me away?
Breaking me.
I run my hands down my body, letting my fingers trace over my curves, and the dark little voice in my mind makes me question whether he finally saw me for who I am, and I repulsed him.
Whatever rose-colored glasses were clouding his judgment were ripped away, and he came to his senses, just like everyone else, beating me at my own game.
I’m a con artist by trade. I don’t need to be pretty to pretend to be someone else and take naive, cheating men for all they’re worth. My ability to manipulate them and discard them is no different from what Kryx has done to me. We can both sniff out the shit, and that’s all I am.
A piece of fucking shit.
I stay in the shower until the water runs cold, and even then, I stand there for a few more minutes, letting it freeze me to my core until my teeth begin to chatter.
I cut the water, and the steam continues to fill the bathroom, coating every surface with a glossy sheen.
I dry off and wrap myself in my favorite robe.
It’s dark gray and reaches to my ankles, made of soft sherpa fabric, perfect for cold winter nights like this, but still unable to thaw my icy, frost-bitten heart.
I grip the sink and take a deep breath, trying to dislodge the lump in my throat and untie the knot in my chest. Using my sleeve, I wipe the steam from the glass and look at myself.
My breath catches as I’m met with the reflection of those same fiery red eyes that have watched me for what feels like a lifetime.
The ones that haunt my dreams but are so familiar they’ve started to feel like a home I don’t necessarily want to escape from.
Kryx watches me through the mirror, his gaze burning hot.
How dare he show up here again? I want to scream at him, tell him to get the hell out and never come back.
But every cruel word gets caught in my throat as I stare back at his reflection, not sure if he’s really behind me or if it’s all still a fucking dream.
A living nightmare.
“Little vixen.” His voice is a deep timbre that washes over me, gently caressing my skin. “Is that what you really believe?”
I cringe at the pity in his voice and the soft look in his eyes. I grip the sink tighter and squeeze my eyes shut, refusing to let him see the tears gathering behind them.
“Do you think I cannot hear your thoughts? That I can’t feel the ache in your chest as if it’s my own?” He shifts on his feet, his hoof clicking on the tile floor as he steps further into the small bathroom, towering over me.
His clawed finger brushes against my neck, and his scent of embers and pine fills my nostrils, awakening every cell in my body. My knees threaten to buckle, and my arms tremble as I try to hold myself up. The steam makes it hard to breathe, and hot tears brim at the corners of my eyes.
He’s the one who ripped open my never-healing wound with his nightmare, dragging me back into my childhood home and forcing me to relive the parts of my life I’ve locked away.
And even though I blame him for the searing-hot pain that pulses through me, I want him to be the one to wrap it in bandages.
To fix it.
To finally heal me.
But I refuse to let him in—to see the broken pieces that threaten to gut me and let him see me bleed out. Because every person I’ve ever let into my life has left me high and dry, making it clear that I’m an unlovable monster—a nightmare myself.
His knuckles brush across my jaw, and instead of succumbing to the rush his touch triggers, my eyes flash open, and I spin around to face him, letting the anger that ignites in my veins explode. “Fuck you,” I snap, the harsh words ringing out, bouncing off the tiles.
I reach up and slap his cheek, causing his head to whip to the side from the impact, his long black hair curtaining his face.
“How dare you come back here? How dare you continue to string me along as if I’m nothing but a child’s toy?
A toy for you to use. To fucking break.” I suck in a breath as the fire inside me rages on. “Get. The fuck. Out.”
I press my finger into his chest and then point to the door behind him, signaling for him to leave. His eyes blaze bright as he stares down at me, a look of shock on his face. He calls me his, but I don’t belong to anyone. And I never will.
“Why would I ever leave you, Nicolette?” he asks, his voice turning into a low growl.
My mouth gapes, and my cheeks burn with anger.
“Because you have come into my home, into my dreams, into my life, and have left me time and time again.” I step back, pressing myself against the edge of the sink, trying to create more space between us.
“You love to see me begging. You love the pain that you cause. But what do I get out of this? I’m fucking done with your games, and I want you to leave me alone. ”
He closes the gap, placing his large hands on either side of me, trapping me in.
I size him up. His broad, muscular chest rises and falls as if he’s barely holding on.
His long black hair cascades around his chiseled jaw and broad shoulders.
His onyx-black horns curl backward, absorbing all the light in the room as his shadows grow wider behind him.
My eyes lift, and I meet his gaze. His crimson eyes are breathtakingly terrifying as the irises flicker like flames, warming the cold, dark corners of my soul even as my own fire rages and spreads through me.
“I have never left you,” he breathes as the words swirl around him like smoke. “And I never intend to.”
My hands curl into fists, nails sharply digging into my palms. “Then explain the empty room, and now the empty bed. I’ve only ever woken up alone with cold, bitter sheets next to me and an empty feeling in my chest.”
This little dance we’ve been doing has finally gone too far, since he’s seen too much of me.
I’m walking a dangerous line I can’t cross, and neither can he.
He was here to punish me, and he more than succeeded; he’s completely shattered me.
I feel a sob rising in my throat, but I push it back down.
I refuse to let him see how broken I am from the way he fumbled and dropped me, fragmenting me into a million pieces, with no one here to help me pick them up, and leaving me with bloody fingertips.
He infiltrated my dreams for years, erasing any memory of them as if he had permission to do so, but he couldn’t hide the truth about my shitty life.
The same shitty life I gave up on. I moved out, moved away, and moved on when I realized I couldn’t fix something that was shattered and broken, just like I can’t fix myself.
His eyes flicker like flames as he stiffens, claws digging into the porcelain sink while my words linger heavy between us. “I couldn’t leave you even if I wanted to, Nicolette.” His deep voice softens.
“But I want you to,” I bite. “I need you to.”
He looks down at me, the fire in his eyes flickering to glowing embers. “I can’t,” he says softly, an edge of pain in his voice.
I press my hands into his chest, feeling his thundering heart beneath my palm as I try to push him away, but he doesn’t move.
“Why? Why can’t you just leave me alone?
I know I’m a piece of shit who needs to be punished, but I’m nowhere close to being like some of the worst people in the world.
Those are the ones you need to go after, not me.
Yes, I’m a fucking criminal, but all I want is to be left alone to suffer in solitude. ”