Chapter 12
Twelve
TENSIONS EXPLODE
THAL
Anger coursed through me like a fierce, unstoppable storm. The violent bang of my front door slamming shut behind me was drowned out by the pounding of my footsteps as I stormed into the house.
I couldn’t face Daphne and avoided looking at her. She was as silent as a mouse, her quietness almost taunting the turmoil within me. However, I realized that this silence wouldn’t endure now that we were back home.
Frustration simmered beneath the surface, a boiling rage that clouded my thinking. All I saw was red, an all-consuming fire that blinded my senses.
One part of me desperately tried to understand what went wrong, trying to make sense of the chaotic events of the evening.
Another part searched for a response, seeking ways to fix or interpret the chaos.
Meanwhile, a different voice inside blamed me, insisting that I was at fault and that I deserved all this anger.
“I can't believe how stupid I was!” I shouted, my anger spilling over, and I could no longer hold it back.
“But you weren’t —”
“I should have chained you to the bed,” I roared, the words tasting of copper and rage. “I knew it was a trap, yet I let you walk into it anyway. I saw that man level his weapon at you, and my heart stopped. If you had died tonight, I would have burned this city to the ground with me inside it.”
Daphne looked at me with a blend of confusion and worry, tilting her head as she watched me pace the living room like a territorial lion. She remained silent, which I appreciated. I didn’t want her to speak. I was lost in self-reproach and foolishness.
“I should have burned that warehouse to the ground before I let you step foot inside,” I growled, my voice a jagged, low vibration that shook the glasses on the bar.
I was more than angry, it was on a level of unhinged. The image of that man leveling his weapon at her was a brand on the back of my eyelids.
“I saw your life in his sights, Daphne. My heart more than stopped—it died. If you had fallen tonight, I wouldn’t have just killed Rhea. I would have dismantled every soul in this city who ever looked her way.”
“She’s…” she started to say, but I cut her off.
“She’s dead. That’s what she is. No matter what it takes, I won’t rest until she’s gone.”
After taking another sip, I turned back to Daphne, noticing a fierce defiance burning in her eyes.
“Are you finished?” she snapped, her voice brimming with anger.
Startled, I blinked and asked, "Excuse me?"
“Can I talk now?” she asked, though it sounded more like a demand. “Are you going to shut up and hear what I need to say for once?”
What the hell was she trying to say?
“Daphne, don’t talk to me like that!”
“Why not?” she shot back. “It’s the only way you’ll listen.”
The atmosphere became tense as an unspoken clash of wills hung in the air.
There was a long, heavy beat of silence as our stares locked.
I didn't need a phone line to feel the vibration of her presence. It was a physical thrum in my marrow. The gold in her irises caught the flickering firelight of the penthouse, and for a second, I saw the woman who had pulled the trigger. She wasn’t looking for an apology. She was looking for a claim.
I let out a breath I hadn’t realized I was holding. I was so used to carrying the weight of this city alone, fighting an invisible war in the dark, that I’d forgotten I wasn’t the only one on the line anymore.
She started with visible frustration, saying, “First of all, you tried to stop me from going, but I ignored you. Second, I’m fine.
We both are because we survived that hellish ordeal as a team.
Maybe you’re not a fool after all. Maybe you’re a genius.
Despite your stubbornness nearly costing us everything, you knew better than to go alone.
I shudder to think what could have happened if James and his men hadn’t arrived.
But don’t underestimate my skills, Thal.
I’m strong, capable, and tonight I killed a man for you. ”
She paused, crossing her arms over her chest and fixing her unwavering gaze on me.
“And you almost died because of me,” I reminded as I met her stare.
“And yet, here we are, alive and arguing with each other. Which aspect do you want to emphasize?”
Her words hit me hard, like a slap in the face. Why was I fucking shouting? I should have been channeling my anger into something more productive, like figuring out a way to get Rhea to her knees.
I didn't apologize. Apologies were for men who didn't understand the world we lived in. Instead, I grabbed her by the waist and hauled her toward the master bath.
“Thal, what are you—”
“Be quiet, Daphne.” I set her on the edge of the marble tub, my hands trembling as I grabbed a damp cloth. I didn't look at her face yet, I couldn't. I looked at the spray of red on her shoulder, the blood of the man she’d killed for me.
I wiped the spray of red from her shoulder with slow, reverent strokes, the damp cloth coming away stained.
Each swipe of the cloth was a vow. I watched the water in the marble tub swirl with a faint pink tint, the ghost of the man she’d slaughtered to keep me breathing. She wasn't Zeno’s ward anymore. My queen. My beautiful, bloodstained ruin.
I looked up, meeting her gaze. The defiance was still there, but it was tempered by the same dark realization settling in my gut. We were past the point of no return.
“I’m grateful you were there. You’re right about everything.
But honestly, I’d be lying if I said I didn’t regret asking you to get involved in this at all.
When I initially asked, all I wanted was your help with the plans.
I never imagined you’d end up in the middle of a firefight, for fuck’s sake.
” I exclaimed, feeling overwhelmed, and drew her nearer.
“My god, Daphne, if anything had happened to you...”
My voice faltered, unable to complete that terrifying thought.
She muffled a soft reassurance into my chest. “Nothing happened to me. I’m fine.”
I bent my head, pressing my lips to her hair, inhaling her scent. It was a soothing balm amid chaos.
“I couldn’t bear losing you, Daphne,” I admitted. “Not to anything, not even Zeno.”
She gasped and raised her head, eyes searching mine.
“I don’t want to lose you either,” she whispered, tears shining in her eyes. “But I don’t know how to do this the right way.”
My heart skipped a beat at the vulnerability she was showing me. Both of us had taken on a lot to be together. But I meant what I vowed. I wasn’t ever going to let anyone hurt her.
“As long as we do it together, it will be right,” I said, my heart swelling with emotion.
Was this love? Had it always been love?
I studied her eyes, wondering if she was thinking the same thing, if she was feeling the same way. Everything I saw in her eyes reflected the raw emotion surging through me. I could only pray that she felt it too, that she wanted this too.
Our lips met in a collision of adrenaline, iron, and a decade of suppressed hunger.
There was nothing delicate about it. It was a desperate, clawing need to prove we were still made of flesh and bone.
I didn’t want to be gentle. I wanted to leave a mark on her so deep that Zeno’s blood debt would be incinerated by the heat of us.
“Bedroom. Now,” I growled into her mouth, not waiting for an answer.
I hauled her against me, my hand tangled in her hair, forcing her head back to expose the elegant, pulsing line of her throat. We didn't lose ourselves in kisses, we crashed together, a frantic exchange of breath and fire, our teeth clashing as we stumbled toward the bed.
She was a storm made flesh, beautiful like a wildfire, terrifying and absolute. I didn’t want tender. I wanted the raw, jagged edges of the woman who had stood in the crossfire and chosen me over her innocence.
When my mouth crashed into hers, it tasted of gunpowder and a decade of wanting. I kissed her with possessive ferocity, my hands marking her skin as if I could press the memory of the warehouse from her marrow and replace it with me.
Our bodies clashed, a frantic struggle to prove we had survived the dark. She was everything I had ever wanted, not because she was flawless, but because she was the only creature in this godforsaken city who was dark enough to mirror my own soul.
Obsession. It wasn't a light but a goddamn black hole, and I was falling into it with my eyes wide open. I didn't want to take her to a paradise beyond the city. I wanted to build a fortress of shadows around her.
I wasn’t in love. I was addicted to the way her soul mirrored the darkness within mine. She was my ruin, and I was going to worship every inch of the wreckage.
This was the only truth that mattered now. Not the city, not the syndicates, just the woman in my arms and the darkness we shared. I’d spent my life believing I belonged to the shadows, but Daphne hadn't brought me into the light. She’d shown me how to rule the dark.
I didn't want happiness. I wanted this jagged, desperate, absolute devotion.
“I love you, Daphne,” I whispered, the words feeling less like a gift and more like a surrender.
“I love you, too, Thal,” she replied, her voice steady despite the chaos of the night.
There were no stars written for us. No flowery promises. Only the blood on our hands and the empire we’d have to build to keep the world from taking what was ours.
After I’d claimed her, after I’d made sure she knew exactly whose name was carved into her skin, I held her with a white-knuckled grip. She collapsed into me, her body finally surrendering to the exhaustion of the kill.
I watched the rise and fall of her chest in the dim light of the penthouse, my mind circling back to that red stamp in the ledger. Transfer pending.
The city wasn't going to let us go. Zeno wouldn't let her go. And Rhea? Rhea was coming to collect a debt she thought was hers by right. They were all fools. Rhea thought she was calling in a marker. Zeno thought he was guarding a ward. But you can't collect what's already been consumed.
I looked at my hands, the hands that had held her as she became a killer tonight.
I’d once thought I could protect her from the dark.
I was wrong. The only way to save her was to make sure my darkness was bigger than Rhea’s.
I wasn’t going to take her to the light.
I was going to build an empire of shadows so vast that no one would ever find her.
“You’re mine,” I whispered into the silence of the room. “Not a debt. Not a payment. Mine.”