Chapter 28 #2
When I don’t run, he shakes his head, disdain rolling off him in waves. “You keep saying you want to marry me. Then I’ll see what’s under that dress eventually. Unless…you’re lying to me?”
“I’m not lying.”
“Then what’s the problem, fiancée?” He leans so close, his breath is hot on my cold, damp skin. “Is the thought of taking off your clothes for me offensive?”
No. It’s the exact opposite.
My mind races as I shove that unhelpful urge away. Troy Severin is the only one who knows what happened. So what if I sell my soul to him? If it helps put the broken pieces back together, if stripping down to my underwear will give me answers, then so be it.
“Alright.”
“That’s my good girl.”
His praise shouldn’t affect me, but desire crawls low in my core, and I hate how much I want to hear him say it again.
“Tell me who you really are.” As soon as I say it, it’s the wrong question.
Did you kill my sister? is probably what I should have asked. But he already told me he didn’t kill her when he was drugged. What’s to stop him from lying again? Understanding who he is is the better one, right?
He smirks, and his gaze strays to my mouth and then lower, before coming back up to meet my eyes. “Then take off that damn dress.”
I close my eyes and try not to overthink it.
Then, slowly, I take off my cardigan.
It’s only when I slip off my knit dress that I feel breathless and exposed. My skin feels hypersensitive, like every cell is anticipating his gaze. The cool air hits my exposed shoulders, but the feel of his eyes on me burns hotter than any touch.
When I drag open my eyes, I feel drugged all of a sudden. He’s watching me with a hunger so vividly apparent that I have mini flashbacks of earlier in the kitchen. He knows why I’m here now; it’s clear in the disgust on his face. And yet, he still wants me.
And I want him too.
I let the damp garment fall at my feet, unable to meet his eyes now that I’m basically down to my smalls.
“Turn around.”
I bite my lower lip and do as he demands.
As Troy comes to stand behind me, I can feel the heat radiating from his body without him touching me.
His scent envelops me, a mix of leather, rain, and something uniquely him that makes my mouth water, making my body shudder involuntarily.
I want to press my face to his throat and breathe him in until I’m dizzy with it.
But then his fingers brush my bare back, and the contact sends electricity shooting up my spine. For a moment, neither of us moves: him behind me, knuckles grazing over my skin, both of us breathing too hard.
“I was born Edward Todd Swanley, after my father. No one here knows but Katherine and Elias. And now…you.”
The words hit me like a physical blow as he hands me a weapon that could destroy him. His real name, his past, his secrets. But instead of feeling satisfied, I feel…the opposite.
Why is he admitting it to me?
I shiver as cool air plays over my skin, and I sense him move back towards the tower door. He’s leaving. I turn, picking up my damp dress to put it back on. But instead, he takes the key and locks the door behind us.
Troy looks at me, and there’s a flicker behind his eyes, not just hunger anymore; it’s fragile and pained, before his cold mask shifts back into place and he smiles at me like the Devil.
My own heart thuds noisily within me as he pockets the key.
“Now, you run.”
“W-what?” I stare at him.
“Best way to warm up.”
“You’re insane. No.”
“You wanted to see the tower.” His voice is deadly soft. “So climb, little finch.”
Slowly, as his words register in my brain, as he starts stalking towards me.
“And if you make it to the top before me, I won’t punish you.”
“B-But I have no clothes on.”
“Wet clothes will give you a cold. Best to run.”
My heart stutters. I drop the dress and bolt for the stairs. I’ve no idea what he means by punishment, but I don’t want to wait to find out.
I only get to the first few steps.
He grabs for my ankle and drags me back down.
I kick him and he hisses, letting me go.
And then I’m running up and up and round as the tower stretches around in tight curves, one hand trailing along the wall for support.
All I can hear is my fast breaths and feet pounding against the stone.
Behind me, his footsteps echo, sounding close.
So very close.
But the steps are narrow, uneven, and some are crumbling at the edges. My foot slips on one. He grabs for me again, but I catch myself against the wall, scraping my palm, and drag myself up.
“Almost, little finch,” he taunts.
I force myself to keep moving, as my lungs burn, and my muscles scream. The tower seems endless, spiralling into darkness. But I push harder, knowing he’s right behind me, taking the steps two at a time.
Finally, I reach the top.
I burst through the doorway, stumbling onto the roof. Wind and rain slam into me immediately, stealing what little warmth I have left. Right in front of me, the parapet is low, barely waist-high; beyond it, the lake spreads out below, black and churning. At least sixty feet down.
I falter to a stop.
But then Troy is there, catching me from behind, one arm banding around my waist as he pulls me to him. Every nerve in my body is on fire, especially where he touches, searing through my bare wet skin. “Nowhere left to run,” he breathes in my ear.
“You said if I made it to the top first, you’d let me go!”
“I said I wouldn’t punish you. I didn’t say I’d let you go.”
The wind whips harder up here, like it could snatch us over the edge at any moment. The rain actually hurts.
“Please, Troy!”
“What were you hoping to find up here?” He moves me closer to the edge. “A way out?”
“Don’t—”
“Don’t what?”
I dig my heels in. “Don’t you dare.”
His fingers tighten, pushing me forward, his voice grating in my ear. “Don’t I dare? You think I’m going to throw you off? Or are you just so desperate to believe I’m a villain that you actually want me to?”
“Please don’t hurt me.” I squeeze my eyes closed because this can’t be happening.
“Look.” When we get to the edge, his fingers curl around my jaw, making me look down.
“No.” I try to turn away, but he’s too strong.
“Look at the water, Sage. How deep is it?”
“I don’t know.”
“How deep is it? Tell me.”
“I said, I don’t know!”
His body presses mine against the parapet. His body radiates heat, despite the freezing wind, and I twist around in his arms, burying my face against his chest, heaving in time with his breath. He lifts my head, his thumb tracing my cheek, brushing away my tears. And then kisses me.
His mouth is hard and demanding.
I should push him off, fight to get back down, get away from here. Instead, I kiss him desperately back.
My hands fist in his shirt, pulling him closer.
His teeth catch my lip, enough to draw blood.
I gasp and bite back. Then he groans into my mouth, and deepens the kiss with his tongue, one hand tangling in my hair, the other locked on my waist. He tastes of metal and storms, and underneath it, hate and my own twisted need.
And as he shoves his hand into my panties, stroking his fingers through my soaking wet pussy, pure desire spikes through me.
“You’re so wet. Does this turn you on, little finch, being on the edge?” he murmurs against my mouth, continuing to tease me in slow agonising circles.
“Y-yes.” I can’t lie.
“Good.” He nips my neck and then shoves his fingers deep inside me. I moan and shudder, sliding my hands down over his slick chest, digging my nails into his scars. But he grabs my wrists, stopping me easily.
“No, you don’t get to touch,” he says roughly, and pinning my arms behind my back. I struggle to get free, but either I don’t have it in me anymore to try, or it’s hopeless.
“Why?”
“Because I love it when you fight me.”
The rain drums over our hot skin, drenching us both so that all I can breathe is the scent of him; forest and woodsmoke and something masculine, that makes my knees feel boneless and the base of my spine turn molten.
“But I love it even more when you’re afraid.”
Still holding me hostage, he leans me back against the thin rail over the rushing water below.
Something inside me snaps. “No, wait!”
My breaths are short, and my body feels hard-wired, every nerve exposed.
“Stay very still or you’ll fall.”
“Troy, don’t.”
“Do you know how I know that she didn’t die falling from this tower?”
I shake my head, trembling from head to toe.
He leans close, still plunging into me, fingers curved, his thumb stroking me into an abyss. I’m practically grinding on his hand now.
“The water’s deep enough that falling won’t kill you.”
“You don’t know that.”
“Most of the year, the rains flood the lake, isolating this place. No way on, no way off. But falling off this tower, straight down, you’ll land in fifteen feet of water, miles out from the rocks. That’s how I know Nell didn’t die here.”
“You’re lying.”
“Then close your eyes,” he whispers.
I shake my head again.
“Close them.”
“W-why?” But I do as he says.
His voice goes cold. “Because I’m going to show you that I’m not.”
Then he picks me up in his arms and jumps, taking me with him.
We’re falling. The wind screams past my ears as his name tears from my throat. We hit the water hard, and the cold crushes me instantly, then I sink into blackness.
I can’t move or breathe.
I can’t do anything.
Instead, I descend, feeling my lungs burn. My life, as sheltered as it was, flashes before my eyes. This is how he murders me, is the last thought I have before it all becomes dark, and the water wraps around me like strong arms welcoming me home.