Chapter 3
Delilah
Fuck a duck.
I feel like someone ran me over with an eighteen-wheeler, put the vehicle in reverse, and did it again out of spite.
An unfamiliar tightness wraps around my entire body, encircling my arms, chest, and legs like an array of tourniquets halting blood flow.
My eyelids are heavy, and the struggle to lift them is daunting.
When I finally manage to open my eyes, the blurred outlines of the room slowly come into focus.
And then I see him. Xavier.
He’s sitting beside my bed, his hand gripping mine like he’s afraid I’ll slip away. His posture is rigid, the lines of his face drawn tight with an emotion I can’t decipher. Concern? Guilt? Or is it just exhaustion? If the sun shining through the window is any indication, several hours have passed.
Since he tried to kill me.
The memories from the rooftop slam into my brain all at once: being dragged onto the platform. The Obsidian Order members. The pain of the blade cutting into my skin.
Why?
The question echoes in my mind, swirling amidst a storm of confusion, betrayal, and an inexplicable undercurrent of relief at his presence.
Xavier stabbed me, yet here he is, watching over me with an intensity that speaks of unwavering loyalty.
Considering he hasn’t changed his clothing and there are dark circles under his eyes, I’d guess he hasn’t left my side.
His gaze finds mine, and I suck in a breath, unable to stop the unease coursing through my veins. “You’re awake,” he says.
His voice washes over me with the force of a tidal wave, sweeping away my initial apprehension and replacing it with resentment. Maybe I should be afraid, but if Xavier wanted to kill me, he would’ve when I was unconscious.
“Why?” It’s the only word I can get out, a whisper that travels far in the quiet room, carrying the weight of my heartache.
Xavier doesn’t look away as pain flickers across his features. Then he schools his expression into a guarded neutrality that’s reflected in his measured tone.
“I had to.”
“That’s not good enough, Xavier.”
“It was the only way to protect you.”
His eyes drill into mine, seeking understanding, but I don’t have any to give.
I withdraw my hand from his. “That doesn’t make any sense. In what context does stabbing me keep me safe?”
“If I didn’t throw the knife, they would’ve killed you.”
He leans closer, his delicious scent enveloping me in an unwanted embrace. It grips my lungs, squeezing them. I keep my thin breaths even and ignore the quickening of my heart at his nearness.
“It was the first Trial,” he says. “I had no choice.”
“There’s always a choice.”
“Not one I was willing to make.”
I frown. “What do you mean?”
He looks away, the silence stretching out between us like a chasm. I can’t cross it, and I’m not sure I want to. Being around this man is a risk, not only to my welfare but to my emotions.
“Xavier,” I say, prompting him gently. “Tell me.”
When his gaze locks on mine, it’s full of remorse, an emotion that has no place in the eyes of a killer. I’ve never seen him look so . . . human.
“They know,” he says quietly, as if admitting a cardinal sin.
“Who?”
“Everyone. The leaders of the founding families know how I feel about you. If not, then they wouldn’t have used you against me. To test me. If I didn’t throw the knife at you, they would’ve killed you. My refusal would’ve shown them my loyalty isn’t to the Order. That it belongs to you.”
“Does it?”
His brows snap together. “What do you think?”
“I’m lying here with a stab wound. I’m not sure what to think. You were so . . . cold and distant the last time I saw you.”
“I had to act like it didn’t matter if you were hurt.”
I bite my lip. “Did it?”
He stands to his feet, fists clenched, his body towering over me. “Of course it fucking did! Watching you get dragged up there and tied to the board? Then seeing you bleed out?” He briefly closes his eyes as though in pain. “I never want to go through that again. I can’t.”
I stare at him with my mind racing. Xavier claims to care about me. Is it because I’m his bride, his property in the eyes of the Order? Or is there something beyond this secret society that’s just between the two of us?
“You could’ve warned me,” I say.
“Until I saw you on the rooftop, I didn’t know what they were trying to accomplish.” He crosses his arms over his massive chest. “How did they get you out of the room? There’s no way they could’ve gotten to you unless you opened the door.”
I freeze. That’s the last thing I want to tell him. The reason I ended up bound and gagged was because the person on the other side of the door said that Xavier’s life was in danger. That threat was enough to get my cooperation.
Maybe he’s not the only one who’s undergone a test of loyalty.
“I’m tired,” I say, desperate to avoid the subject.
He studies me for a moment. “Get some sleep.”
I close my eyes obediently. Xavier returns to the chair, the sound of it sliding against the wooden floor the only indication of movement. He doesn’t leave.
“You don’t have to stay here and watch me,” I say. “I’m sure the nurse is able to do their job without you hovering nearby.”
“That’s not happening.”
I shrug before turning onto my side, giving him my back. It’s the only way I’ll get any sleep with him staring at me.
“Delilah?”
“Hm?”
“I’m glad you’re not dead,” he says, his voice carrying a teasing lilt.
A reluctant smile tugs at the corners of my mouth. “Me, too.”
The sound of the door opening in the silent room brings me back into awareness.
I’m lying on my back, and my body still feels as though it’s under a weighted blanket.
But the haze of medication dulls the pain, and I’m grateful.
I wish the turmoil in my mind could be treated as efficiently with prescription drugs.
“Lilah?”
Ben’s voice reaches me, and the concern in it makes me cringe inwardly. I want to acknowledge him, but this situation is awkward. I don’t have the energy to soothe him right now. Even if I did, what could I say?
I’m fiiiiine. I got stabbed, but supposedly Xavier didn’t mean it, okay?
Before I can gather the courage to open my eyes and face him, Xavier’s voice cuts through the room, sharp and commanding.
“She needs to rest, McKenzie. Now’s not the time.”
The air shifts, charged with an undercurrent of tension that wasn’t there a moment ago. Part of me wants to get involved, but the other half wants to see what they’ll say if they think I’m asleep.
God, I’m a nosy bitch.
“I just want to see how she’s doing, X. That’s all.”
Ben’s voice is tight, controlled, but there’s an edge to it, a hint of anger simmering underneath the surface. If he challenges Xavier in any way, I’ll have to intervene.
Boys and their testosterone . . . I swear it’s the stuff of legend. And stupidity.
“She’s fine,” Xavier says, his voice equally sharp. “But you barging in here isn’t helping. She’s been through enough without having to deal with this.”
“This?” Ben’s incredulous laugh is mocking. Bitter. “You mean me being here? Or you stabbing her?”
The accusation echoes in the room. I breathe deeply to keep my panic at bay. They won’t kill each other because they’re not allowed to. I think.
“How did you find out?” Xavier asks. “You weren’t there.”
“You’re not the only one who went through the first Trial.”
“Who did the Order pick as your target?”
Quiet fills the room, spreading like a dense fog. I wait for Ben’s answer like it’s the key to understanding everything that happened. Or it could be that I want to know what he’s gone through. He’s still my brother, my family, no matter what he’s done.
“It was this girl I messed around with last year,” he says.
“And?”
“And what?” Ben blows out a breath. “You know what, X.”
I crack my eyelids, gazing up at him from underneath my lashes. Ben’s face is contorted with emotional anguish and self-loathing. The painful sight of it makes me wish I hadn’t seen him this way. I slam my eyes shut.
“No, I don’t, McKenzie. Before you throw shit my way, maybe you should tell me about what you’ve done.”
“I didn’t mean to do it.” A deafening pause, and then, “I killed her.”
“Why?” Xavier asks.
His voice is even, lacking judgment, while I lie there in complete horror. I know both of them are assassins, and I know they’ve killed other people, but for Ben to admit it out loud? I don’t know if I can stomach it, no matter how many times I hear it spoken.
“I kept second-guessing what the Order wanted from me,” Ben says.
“I knew it was a loyalty test, but to what extent? Would I pass if I simply wounded her, or was the point for me to kill her without hesitation?” Ben groans, the sound muffled as though he’s covering his face.
“I couldn’t take the chance of failing.”
“I’m assuming you didn’t.”
“I passed,” Ben says, his tone full of disgust. “But did she have to die? That’s something that’ll fuck with my head for a long time.”
“You know the position we were in,” Xavier says. “I had to throw my knife at Delilah in order to protect her. I believe they would’ve killed her otherwise.”
“I think you’re right. I just hate seeing her like this.” Ben sighs, the sound full of defeat. “There had to be another way.”
Xavier scoffs. “The Order doesn’t allow another way besides theirs. You know that, McKenzie.”
“Did you pass?”
“Yes.”
“Which means I’m a piece of shit for killing that girl instead of wounding her.”
The atmosphere is thick with things left unsaid, implications left untested.
I want to understand what they went through, but the truth is these men have a history shared between them that I’ll never fully comprehend.
Or condone. I can only remain a silent observer of their internal conflict and hope that one day I can get away from the Order.
“Listen,” Xavier says, his voice firm, “none us know what fucking games the Order is playing, and we sure as hell don’t know how to win them. All you can do is make a judgment call and hope it doesn’t end up getting you killed.”
“Delilah should never have been a part of this.”
“I wonder if the Order would’ve made her your target if they hadn’t already chosen her to be mine.”
Ben sighs. “Probably. She was doomed the day she met me. Ironic, since I’ve always been the one who kept her safe. But now you’ve taken over that responsibility. Just . . . look out for her, okay? She means more to me than you know, X.”
Xavier’s response is soft, almost imperceptible. “I know. She means everything to me, too.”