Chapter 47
CHAPTER FORTY-SEVEN
acelynn
The bar felt hollow after the raid, like the life had been sucked out of it and only shadows remained.
Broken chairs lay scattered like bodies on the frontline.
Shards of glass glittered across the hardwood, catching the dim bar light in sharp flashes.
The air reeked of spilled liquor and sweat.
A haze of dust still drifted down from where shelves had been knocked askew.
Even though Parsons and his team were gone, their presence lingered like a bad taste.
I moved carefully across the wreckage, my heart still pounding from the confrontation.
Astoria was pacing near the pool tables, her face pale with fury, lips pressed into a thin line.
Josie leaned against the bar as Vince examined the bruises already darkening her wrist from Parsons’s rough grip.
Nolan’s absence was a raw, gaping wound.
They’d hauled him out in cuffs, his rage echoing even as the flashing lights swallowed him whole.
I’d wanted to tear after him, to scream, to claw Parsons’s face open with my nails.
But I’d stood rooted to the floor, knowing that one wrong move could bring it all crashing down.
Kaius hadn’t said a word since the police had cleared out. He stood at the bar like a statue, shoulders squared, the weight of responsibility hanging off him as if it had been carved into his bones. His silence pressed heavier than any threat Parsons could’ve made.
I thought about leaving him to his brooding, but something in the tension of his jaw told me he wasn’t finished—not with me, not with tonight. So when he finally moved, I followed.
The night air outside was damp and heavy.
Sirens still echoed faintly in the distance, their wails bleeding into the dark city streets.
My pulse quickened when Kaius strode straight to the car I’d left behind earlier, his long strides eating up the pavement.
Without a word, he ducked down, slid his hand under the driver’s seat, and pulled out a small black tracker.
My blood froze.
He turned it in his hand, the faintest smirk tugging at his lips before his eyes cut to me.
“Next time you think about running off with something that dangerous,” he said, voice low and sharp, “remember that I’ll always know exactly where you are.”
“What the hell are you talking about?” I asked.
The sting of humiliation and anger hit me square in the chest. Heat burned up my neck, and for a second, I could barely breathe.
He’d been watching me. Every move. Every turn.
Every mistake. But it didn’t make any sense that he thought I was running.
I hadn’t strayed from the directions given. It had been a straight shot.
“There was a moment on the drive back.” Kaius flipped the device up in the air, letting it fall back into his hand once before continuing, “You hesitated, sat at that four-way stop for too long. I assumed you were debating on running for it. It would have been so easy to just leave, even though I’ll always find you, kitten. ”
I wanted to claw the smugness off his face. Instead, I stood there in glaring silence, watching as he strode over and popped the trunk. The Muze was still there. Safe. Untouched. Relief flooded me, leaving me momentarily unsteady. At least Parsons hadn’t found it.
Kaius shut the trunk without another comment, brushing past me like I wasn’t worth his time tonight. He didn’t even glance back to see if I was following. The sting of that cut deeper than the tracker. I followed anyway.
The Queen’s Table was quieter now, the remaining Knights cleaning up the wreckage.
Vince and Josie whispered near the booths.
Astoria had disappeared to one of the dorms, I assume, and the air hummed with the kind of silence that came only after disaster.
But Kaius didn’t stop to speak to any of them.
Instead, he kept walking, all the way back to his office.
I quickened my pace, not letting him close the door before I slipped through at the last moment.
The room was dim, lit only by a single lamp that cast shadows across the cluttered desk.
Maps, ledgers, half-burned cigarettes, a knife, a revolver—chaos laid out with deliberate intent.
The faint smell of smoke and leather clung to the space.
It was him in every way—commanding, dangerous, suffocating.
I spun on him, anger spiking hotter now that we were alone. “You put a tracker on me?”
Kaius didn’t even flinch. His hands braced against the desk, his gaze unwavering. “You were sloppy tonight. I had to make sure you didn’t do something stupid.”
My jaw dropped. “Sloppy? I just walked through a goddamn police raid without getting caught, and you’re calling me sloppy? I did your fucking dirty work and picked up your drugs to prove to you I was loyal, but I’m just a girl who can’t handle herself? Screw you, Kaius.”
His gaze snapped to mine. “You walked into a raid like a lamb into a wolf’s den. Parsons could’ve gutted you just to get to me. Do you have any idea what kind of target you painted on yourself tonight?”
The heat in my chest exploded. “So…what? I’m just supposed to sit pretty and wait for you to give orders? Hide in your shadows while you play king of the goddamn world?”
The corner of his mouth tilted in a smug, infuriating smirk. “If the crown fits.”
The sound of my palm slamming against his desk cracked through the air. “You arrogant bastard.”
My voice trembled, not from fear but from the sharp edge of rage. “You think you own me because you pulled me into this world? Because you make me feel—”
The words caught in my throat. I bit them back, choking on their truth. But he saw. Oh, he fucking saw.
His eyes darkened, hunger breaking through the mask of control. “Because I make you feel what, Acelynn?”
The air between us shifted, sparking dangerously. My heart hammered in my chest, each beat dragging me closer to something I wasn’t ready to name.
“Because you piss me off so badly, I could scream,” I snapped. “Because every time you open your mouth, I want to put my fist through it. And I hate you for making it so difficult to hate you. Because—”
My voice cracked, softer now. “Because I can’t tell if I want to kill you or…”
He closed the distance like a predator striking. One hand slammed against the wall beside mine. The other seized my chin, tilting my face up until his breath mingled with mine.
“Or what?” he demanded, voice low, dangerous, unraveling.
My breath hitched. My whole body burned. “Or kiss you.”
He didn’t hesitate. His mouth crashed against mine with a violence that stole the air from my lungs.
It wasn’t sweet. It wasn’t gentle. It was fire meeting gasoline, the explosion of weeks of fury and restraint ripping loose in one brutal kiss. His hand tangled in my hair, the other clamping against the small of my back, dragging me forward until I was pinned between him and the wall.
I clawed at his shirt, yanking him closer like I hated him, like I needed him, like both urges would tear me apart if I didn’t let them out.
The kiss was raw, messy, teeth and tongues clashing with the desperation of two people who didn’t know how to want quietly. He tasted like whiskey and smoke, like danger, like everything I shouldn’t crave and everything I couldn’t stop.
By the time we broke apart, gasping for air, my lips were swollen, my pulse a thunderstorm in my veins. His forehead rested against mine, his breath ragged, his hands still gripping me like he didn’t know how to let go.
And God help me, I didn’t want him to.
The silence that followed was deafening. My chest rose and fell in sharp bursts, and all I could think was how much I hated him. How much I wanted him. How much those two things were becoming the same.
I pulled slightly, though my body screamed against it. His eyes followed me, dark and heavy, and I could see the war raging in him as clearly as I felt it in myself. Without another second, I dove back in for his lips.