54
I never want her out of my sight again. Never again.
Fuck what anyone says. I’m Kieran Grimshaw for Christ’s sake.
I take whatever the hell I want, whenever I want.
She will stand beside me in the murk. I'll pull her under so far we will both drown in each other’s bliss.
The only way to keep her under my spell was to lie; unfair, I know.
Dangling the carrot of happiness in her fragile precarious state was my final move.
Though I have no intention of letting her be anyone's fuck toy.
I'll keep every part of her for myself at any cost.
Even with the facade of eternal happiness.
Nothing about her life with me will be sunshine and roses.
Her light will recede into the horizon. Even if we succeed in subverting and dismantling the Void, I'll never escape who I am and what I've done. I'll forever remain a heartless beast.
Her trembling hands caress the lacerations on my wrist. I chuff. “One more shattered line.” I shrug, but internally I know this time my skin is no longer Mortensen's ledger of cruelties, but also my own.
Her lips thin into a tight pursing line. “Is that why you like seeing me marked and chastened? Why didn't you let me die?” The sparkle of her blue pools fizzle in front of me. That feeling creeps into my stomach. The sensation invades my insides like an insidious weight pressing down on my chest.
“I need you broken, begging and untethered, but not like that,” I rasp.
My voice is throaty and dry. Her words give me a feverish clarity to how sick I am.
A manic vibration courses through my system.
I know my tendencies go too far. I can't stop them.
That need, it's too great. I need her to be strong.
If I lose her, I won't make it out alive.
The alcohol and bad decisions will steal my soul.
Hell, I can’t say they still won't. I am who I am, and I need her to join my dark kingdom beside me.
“Death is where you draw the line? Is it because you can't control me?”
Her energy changes from contemplating my offer, to now being on the defensive.
Ordinarily I'd force her into submission, but that feeling of losing her pricked something under my skin I don't like.
Her tiny hand drops from my frayed wrists.
I fight the urge to show her just how special she is to me, but I think better of it.
The harsh words tug at my core. Detachment.
Never show weakness. All Mortensen's mind games.
I hate how they fuse to my atoms, rewiring my system to his specifications.
Her eyes call to me like a warning cry, begging to be saved from my fucked up self. I can't.
“There's beauty in death, but I need you breathing. Our souls are entwined whether you like it or not,” I murmur along her neck. Her tears bead down her cheeks to her collarbones. I lick her salty teardrops. My internal beast is raging. Angry for how much he loves her. For how much he needs her.
“What do you want from me?” she whispers. Her hands grip the sheets as if they’ll swallow her whole and take her away from me. No one will ever take her from me again.
“I told you. You're mine. Willing or not, that's all I need.” My baritone vibrates against her throat. Her chest rises faster. Her pulse quickens. I nip at her skin. I'm dying to eat her alive, to mark her, to push her one more time.
I rip myself off the bed away from her, allowing her the illusion of a choice. She can deny me, but I'll lock her away from the world if she refuses. A life of punishment and imprisonment suits her and sure as hell suits my cock. All mine.
Her eyes flutter closed. A small smile tugs at her lips. A genuine smile, but it quickly sours into a heavy frown. It was more addicting than any drug I could let commandeer my system, making me crave another taste.
She thought their story was over. Then he showed up with the truth she'd waited years to hear.
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