Chapter Twenty-Eight
SANORA
“Do you want to watch a video on lovemaking?”
Thrax turned his head from where he sat by the window, spinning his dagger. That dagger, the same one I’d seen in my dream. He’d had it for such a long time.
It was afternoon, and like yesterday, he had not stepped outside like he usually did.
He probably did in the night after I slept, because that was the only explanation for why he was bathing and fucking himself before dawn in the bathroom.
I’d have to wash my brain with acid to get rid of his naked image.
Anytime I closed my eyes, he was there, as though he’d let me see him for the purpose of haunting my memory.
He looked at me where I stood in the doorway, one hand braced on the knob, head poked in.
“Why would I watch a video on lovemaking?” His voice was flat.
I shrugged casually.
Then his gaze sharpened, his head tilting in that usual way. “If by lovemaking, you mean porn?”
I faked a scandalised gasp. “What? That’s crude. How do you know what porn is?”
“Humankind is stupidly creative,” he drawled, dagger twirling with a snap of his fingers. “And you don’t take me for an idiot now, do you?”
“Is that a no?”
He turned back to the window.
Sure is.
I bit down a smile, retreated, and slipped into my room. Leaving my own door deliberately open, I climbed onto my bed and hit play, cranking the volume to its loudest setting.
A male voice gave instructions to a naked girl on screen.
Then he came into view, stroking himself once before sliding into her.
Moans spilled from the speaker, but all I could think of was Thrax.
The way his hand had gripped his cock in the shower, the brutal rhythm, the guttural sound he’d made when he came.
Gods.
And suddenly, he was in the male’s place, those long, thick fingers fisting himself, that brutal thrust burying into me instead of her. My clit throbbed instinctively, clamping down on nothing as their skin-slapping sounds echoed through my room.
I bit my lip down on a smile. It took exactly two minutes and forty seconds before his door opened. I didn’t look up. I pretended to be engrossed as his presence filled my doorway, then my room. I only tilted my head when he stopped beside my bed.
“Oh,” I said sweetly. “You changed your mind—”
He snatched the laptop with one hand, slammed it shut with the other. The sound cracked like thunder, making me gasp.
“I spent a fortune on that!” I scrambled onto my knees, reaching for it, but he yanked it back, his other hand snapping up to grip my jaw. My breath caught as he pulled me closer, his fingers hot and burning into my skin.
Dark eyes locked on mine, his disapproval engulfing the air. “If you want to learn how to fuck,” he growled, “I’ll teach you.”
Goddamn.
The way he said fuck…
Every time it rolled off his tongue, all nerves in me would stand at attention as if he’d been the one to invent the word. My need for touch intensified.
“That’s rich coming from you,” I managed, snatching the laptop from his grip when he loosened it. I sat back on my heels, clutching it, praying he hadn’t broken it.
My thighs pressed together hard, trying to ease the throbbing.
“Don’t pretend you didn’t do the same after you left the bathroom.”
My gaze flicked up as I tried to ignore the fact that he was standing right in front of me, and I was on my knees, his waist levelling with my face. I swallowed hard, heat flooding my cheeks and lower.
“Oh, was I too loud? I tried to be quiet.”
He stared down at me, and I knew—certainly sure—he was picturing me spread on this bed, my hand between my thighs, fingers running over my clit with my back arched in need.
“I know you were intentionally loud,” he said, voice rough like he was trying to shove the thought out of his head
My lips curved, even as my pulse spiked. “What did you expect after letting me see that incredible blowjob you gave yourself? Don’t tell me you’d have gone back to bed and slept if the roles were reversed.”
His chest expanded, the only betrayal of what my words did to him. For once, he didn’t have a comeback.
He diverted instead. “Don’t you dare turn on that thing again.”
I cocked my head, baiting him, the steaming ache for him making me reckless. “How else would I learn how to make love?”
His jaw clenched. “Cut that attitude, Sanora. Or I’ll do it for you in a way we’ll both regret.”
The last word sounded like a lie. Because I sure as hell wouldn’t regret a single thing.
But before I could answer, he spun away and stalked out, leaving me kneeling on the bed.
I stared down at the laptop, my clit pulsing so badly it hurt not to touch myself. The urge to dare him overwhelmed me, but instead, I shoved the laptop aside and curled into my bed.
Minutes later, my mother’s call lit up my screen—a perfect escape from my thoughts.
I woke to the sound of rain hammering the roof and thunder cracking through the night.
My phone screen blinked when I tapped it to see it was past one a.m. The screen’s glow stung my eyes, so I shoved it facedown on the nightstand and dragged my blanket up to my chin, my legs curling in as I rubbed my feet together—
Socks?
My eyes cracked open. I ducked under the blanket and stilled when I saw a warm pair of socks covering my feet.
My brows pinched, trying to recall if I’d worn them before bed.
But no…no, I hadn’t. Not just that. The blanket itself wasn’t mine.
This one was heavier, thicker and big enough to swallow me whole.
Thrax.
That or I had amnesia.
But it was him.
Heat curled in my stomach at the thought, my brain conveniently ignoring the boundary he’d just crossed.
Out of all his intrusions, this was the gentlest. My gaze slid to the door.
Was he asleep in his room now? Or had he slipped out again?
He’d been staying indoors more since my confession—that the house felt lonelier when he wasn’t around.
I wondered if that was why he always waited until I was deep asleep before stepping out.
But what “unfinished business” kept dragging him away? What mattered so much that he couldn’t miss a single day?
A thin sound pricked my ears, almost swallowed beneath the crash of thunder.
I frowned, curiosity overpowering hesitation.
Shoving the blanket aside, I padded to the window, the cold air slicing through my skin until it felt like ice was running through my veins.
I pulled the curtains apart, pressed close, and squinted against the rain-smeared glass
I could see the faint outline of hills in the distance, the streetlamps throwing pale light onto the drenched road. And then—my heart lurched—something small curled on the far side of the street, where the light barely reached.
I blinked hard, swiping condensation from the glass. Yes—there. There was a child, or what looked like one, curled in a foetal position, rain pounding mercilessly against the fragile shape.
Were they dead?
Just then, it made a jerky move, one leg stretching out before folding back in, head tucking tight into their chest.
Okay, no. A dead body wouldn’t shift. My breath snagged in my throat as the outline twisted again. The crying grew louder, threading through the storm, high-pitched and raw.
A child’s cry.
Cold washed through me, chasing away the initial shock. Memories of the messenger snaked up my spine, and I snapped the curtains shut, heart thudding. Once bitten, twice shy.
I shook my head violently. No child in their right mind would lie in the open rain, in this cold, unless it wasn’t a child at all. Unless it was something else, something that wanted me outside. Just like the messenger.
Turning away, I hurried to the door and slipped into the hallway. My knuckles rapped against Thrax’s door before I pushed it open.
The bed was laid but the room was void of the usual heat and him. My throat tightened as I checked the bathroom, then returned to my room.
He isn’t here.
Gripping my phone, I walked back to the window. The crying had stopped, but the body was still there, rain soaking it through.
I raised my camera, snapping a photo to send to Thrax. But the image came out blurry and dark, the body barely visible. Frustrated, I typed instead:
Me
Where are you?
I waited, but there was no response. Carrying the phone, I padded downstairs and poured myself a glass of water in the kitchen, eyes never leaving the screen.
Still nothing.
My fingers flew again.
Me
I know you’re with your
phone. I saw something outside.
I hit send—
BOOM!
Not thunder.
It was a sound that exploded from outside, as though something massive had slammed into the back of a car. My body jolted, the phone nearly slipping from my hands. I caught it at the last second, clutching it tight as my eyes whipped to the front door.
Weeny Man’s car. That thing had hit his car.
The rain battered harder, thunder cracking, lightning flooding the windows white. My pulse thundered in rhythm with it as I rose from the stool, inching towards the door.
Something had hit it. Something very heavy.
Maybe it was the wind. Maybe something had blown against the car...
I froze some feet away, breath stalled in my throat. The door stared.
I stared back.
And then it shuddered violently, something slamming into it with bone-breaking force.
I screamed, stumbling back as the wood quaked. Panic jolted me to the kitchen. My fingers scrambled across the counter, searching for my phone.
Another crash came again, reverberating through the house. I fumbled with my phone and dropped it, bending with shaking limbs to snatch it up again, never tearing my eyes away from the door.
Before I could dial, the screen lit up with an incoming call from Thrax. Perfect timing.
“Is something wrong?” Thrax’s voice cut sharp into my ear the moment I answered.
“I—I think...” I squeezed my eyes shut, forcing in a breath.
“Talk to me, Nher. Where are you now?” His background was loud, his words uneven.
“In the house.” My eyes clung to the door, words rushing out of me. “There’s something outside. First, I heard a child crying and a body lying on the floor. The car. Something hit the car. Now, that something is banging against the—”
BOOM!!!
The door cracked, the wood splitting down the centre. My breath locked in my chest.
“Sanora, Sanora. Listen to me,” he instructed. “Focus on my voice.”
I braced for the next impact as I remained focused on the door. “Yes?” The storm’s roar outside was deafening, my heartbeat matching it.
“Stand straight on your feet.”
“I am stand—” My eyes dropped, realising I was crouched low beside the counter. With my legs shaking, I managed to balance on my feet. “Done.”
“Now grab a knife.”
My throat worked as I nodded, stumbling to the drawer. My hand closed around the longest blade I could find. “Done.”
“Good.” His breath tore in ragged bursts. Was he running? Running back here?
The final blow came, shattering the wood from its frame. The door collapsed inward in a deafening crash, followed by a gust of cold air.
A scream ripped out of me as I pressed against the drawer, the knife trembling in my grip.
Where the door had been was now a gaping void, the storm spilling in.
Silence.
No movement.
“The door—” I choked.
“You’ll do what I tell you right now, is that clear?” Thrax commanded.
I nodded, too focused on the gaping doorway to form words.
“Run.”