29. Aliana
ALIANA
I fight against my attacker, kicking and twisting and scratching my fingernails down the burly, lightly tanned forearms containing me.
Creep and Dev remain oblivious as I’m yanked down a hall and out a back entrance that’s usually locked.
I think Filia and the rest of the monster servants use this particular door to enter and exit the Cloisters at will.
Oh, Zeelof…
A surprising amount of grief barrages me when I think of my yellow and black friend.
Never in a million years would I have considered a monster a friend, but now?
I can’t think of any other word to describe the smiling chef who has been nothing but kind to me.
He never treated me as a human or a slave… simply a person.
We enter what appears to be a dark alleyway.
My wriggling intensifies, my body rocking back and forth as I struggle to free myself from the attacker’s embrace.
I know without a shadow of doubt that if he manages to get me away from the others…
I might never see them again, a thought that sizzles pain up my throat in acidic waves.
There’s something going on here, something I can’t quite understand, and a part of me knows I’ve just become an unwitting pawn in this dangerous game.
My heart pounds within the cage of my ribs as I kick out behind me, my leg connecting with something solid. A muffled curse escapes my attacker a second before I’m dropped unceremoniously onto my ass.
I roll out of the way instinctively—half expecting him to take the opportunity and end my life once and for all—but there’s no pain.
If anything, the alleyway has become eerily silent as I flip myself back onto my feet, my hands raised protectively in front of me.
I don’t have a weapon, but I do have my fists, and I won’t hesitate—
My gaze lands on the man who kidnapped me.
An actual man—not a monster, a beast, a Terror.
An honest-to-fuck human.
A familiar, honest-to-fuck human.
“Chase.” My voice is a breathy exhale as my hands slowly lower back to my sides. My gaze devours him from head to toe, noting each and every minuscule change, the same way his eyes do to me.
His blond hair is slightly longer than I remember it, and he has a fine layer of scruff on his chiseled jawline.
He’s shirtless, the smooth planes of his golden chest coated in sweat, and the pair of jeans he was forced into seem a little too tiny for his large body.
They ride low on his hips, showcasing the prominent V on display, and conform to his thighs in a way that probably isn’t comfortable.
Adrenaline and something akin to hope pierce my chest like multiple arrows. I don’t bother to duck out of the way. Instead, I embrace the searing pain that erupts inside of me with each direct hit.
He’s here.
Chase…is here.
I never thought I would see him again.
There’s a tiny part of me—a part I despise with everything that I am and yearn to stomp out with my combat boots—that wants to run into his arms and cry into the skin of his neck.
But the rest of me eyes him with unveiled wariness and distrust, my feet moving of their own accord and taking me farther away from him.
Throughout the days I’ve been trapped with the Devourer, hate and distrust have marinated inside of my chest, and I know the same suspicion that has percolated in my stomach for days on end is clouding my eyes now.
What is he doing here?
How does he look…okay?
Did he escape his monster?
Did his monster let him go?
Did he make…a deal?
I suddenly can’t swallow, can’t breathe, can’t look away from the smirking man bearing down on me.
“Why are you smiling?” I find myself asking, though I barely recognize my voice. It’s soft, almost a murmur, and woven with a heady dose of trepidation.
Fear shoots poison into my bloodstream, and I feel a little lightheaded.
There’s something distinctly…malicious about the smirk that curves up the corners of his mouth. Something I’ve never seen before on his face. He’s cruel, yes, and a total dickwad flirt, but I never would’ve described him as evil before.
But perhaps that’s too strong of a term? Either way, I can’t describe the emotion twisting his handsome features, and I’m not sure if I want to.
Something hardens in his eyes, though he stops advancing towards me. “I would never hurt you, Aliana.”
That voice…
It’s not Chase’s.
Sure, it sounds like his raspy baritone, but the accent is all wrong.
“Are you fucking with me?” I demand, fiery hot rage bubbling up inside me. If this is some cruel prank—
“Baby girl.” He saunters forward, his thumbs hooked into the waistband of his jeans, drawing them even farther down his hips. “I’d like to fuck you, yes. But fucking with you…?” He tsks his tongue and shakes his head slowly.
When he’s directly in front of me, he stops moving, and his hooded, heated gaze ensnares my own.
An abundance of lust reflects back at me.
So much lust, that I know this isn’t Chase.
It can’t be. That man regards me with disdain and unbridled hatred.
He has never looked at me like this—like he wants to strip me naked and tongue my cunt until I’m screaming his name.
“Fuck…you don’t know long I imagined this meeting.
” Not-Chase’s voice is soft, almost reverent, and when his hand snakes out to cup my cheek, I flinch away.
“I would never hurt you, baby girl. Unless you asked me to, of course.” That taunting grin makes a second appearance on his face.
“I know you’re into…unique foreplay.” His tongue sneaks out to lick his luscious upper lip—it’s something I’ve never noticed before.
His upper pink lip appears to be slightly larger than his bottom one, almost pouty in appearance.
“How’s Diana doing, by the way? Can you send her my regards? ”
Diana…?
What the…?
Horror inflates my heart like a balloon jam-packed with helium. I suddenly can’t breathe around the tightening in my throat and chest. It feels as if my insides have been twisted into a thousand pretzels, and all of those pretzels are wrapped around one another to create a collage of warped organs.
“You,” I breathe. “You’re…”
“Your bestest ghost friend?” He steps away from me to give an elaborate bow, that cocksure grin of his never fading. “At your service.”
“And you’re…” My mouth drops open as I point at Chase, unsure of what exactly I’m asking. “Is he…?”
“Pretty Boy is alive.” Not-Chase smiles widely at me as he emerges from his hunched-over bow. “Screaming at me to leave you alone—and being a pain in my now tangible ass—but alive.” He taps a finger against his temple as if to clarify what he means.
Chase is in there?
Alive?
Is this…?
Is this who bought him at the auction? A ghost?
One whose expression appraises me and clearly spells out every salacious thing he’s thinking.
My worst enemy has been possessed by a monster trying to fuck me. Epic.
What has my life become?
“What’s…?” I trip over my words and have to start again. “What’s your name?”
“You can call me Em.” He absently forks his fingers through Chase’s disheveled, straggly blond hair as my mind struggles to play catchup. The pieces, however, continue to filter through my hands like water in a drainer.
“Em…” Fragments of the story begin to click together—conversations I’ve heard over my time at the Devourer’s house. Em. “As in…the Empty Man?” Horror infuses my tone, even as his smile broadens, showcasing Chase’s dimples.
No, it can’t be.
It can’t.
No—
“As smart as you are beautiful.” His voice is almost awed, dreamy, as he takes another step closer to me. “Perfect.”
My cheeks flame at the realization that this Terror has been inside me. Okay, technically, it was Diana who was inside me, but he was the one fondling her busty ass.
I’ve had sexual encounters with three of the Four Terrors.
And I liked it.
Oh fuck.
Am I about to start a new World War?
“What do you want with me?” That seems like a safe question to ask. Because it’s obvious that he does want something from me—he wouldn’t have kidnapped me if he didn’t. “Dev is going to be—”
“Dev”—he speaks his name with a slow, sardonic drawl, punctuating that one word with a roll of his eyes—“will understand the length a monster will go to protect his mate.” Like before, his gaze captures my own, a thousand untold truths sparkling within Chase’s green depths.
“You know Dev thinks I’m his mate?” I can’t hide the incredulity that bleeds into my voice.
“I know a lot of things, baby girl.” He continues to saunter forward until he’s directly in front of me, his chest so close that it almost touches mine. His eyes dip to my lips, and the stark hunger reflected in them nearly makes me pass out. “Like the fact that me and you belong together.”
Wait…what?
What?!
His words slam into me like a torrential rainfall accompanied by howling wind. They’re a wide ocean of dark, malicious currents that I can’t begin to fathom.
Surely, I didn’t hear him correctly.
Surely, he doesn’t believe that the two of us—
“I can see the wheels in your perfect head turning.” He leans down until his forehead presses against my own, his soft, cinnamon scent circling around me like smoke.
I wonder if Chase is in there currently, if he’s fighting to escape, if he secretly wants the Empty Man to kill me…though I’m not quite sure “killing” is on the agenda for this particular Terror.
“Please—”
He cuts me off with a firm but chaste kiss to the corner of my mouth. “You’re my mate, baby. You’re mine, and we can finally be together. I won’t let anyone hurt you—not Dev, not the other monsters, not even yourself. I need to protect you.”
Before I can even blink, Chase…no, Em moves away from me and reaches for something lodged in his waistband. When he pulls it out, I notice it’s a tiny dagger, the blade glinting ominously in the winking moonlight.
“And to protect you, I need you to be like me.” He swallows heavily, grief distorting his features, before he hardens them and takes a step closer. “I need you dead.”
And then he’s lunging at me with the knife raised, and all I can do is squeeze my eyelids shut and pray it’ll be over soon.