Twin Flames
Ryan
He’s got his filthy hands and lips on my girl. My girl.
I know I teased her this morning, taunted her about being jealous of Scarlet and Cade, but I never thought she’d go and do this. That she’d let him touch her. That she’d let him kiss her.
The voices in my head are at war.
“ Maybe he kissed her first.”
“Maybe she needs saving. You don’t know if he forced himself on her.”
That thought— that possibility—is all it takes. Instinct takes over. I’m inside the office building in seconds, only for that miserable excuse for a receptionist, Cynthia, to get in my way.
"Excuse me, sir, he isn’t seeing patients right now. You’ll have to come ba—"
Her voice falters the second she looks up at me. Her eyes widen, flicking over the black hoodie pulled low over my face, the mask obscuring everything but my eyes, the gloves covering my hands.
She shifts in her chair, suddenly uneasy. “Sir, you can’t just—”
I don’t stop. I don’t slow. Her panicked voice fades behind me as I shove Cade’s door open with enough force to send it slamming against the wall.
They tear apart from each other like I just caught them fucking.
My stomach twists. Rage and something even uglier curdles inside me .
“What have we here, Little Bird?” My voice is low, dangerous, filled with the venom coiling in my gut. She’s still sitting on the couch, her lips red, her body far too close to his.
Cade, the coward, practically trips over himself to get behind his desk, like that flimsy piece of wood will keep him safe.
I can feel the anger pulsing through me, but it’s not just rage. There’s something else, something colder. I turn my gaze back to Aviana, my eyes searching for something, anything. I don’t know if it’s the guilt, the hesitation, or the regret, but I see it. She’s stiff. She’s flinching.
Her hand trembles as she slowly gets up from the couch, her eyes flicking between me and Cade before she reaches for the door, pushing it closed with a soft, deliberate click.
The finality of it sends a jolt through me.
“Nightshade, please. He didn’t do anything.” she calls out to me.
I laugh, sharp and bitter. “No? Because from where I was standing, his grimy hands and disgusting mouth were all over my property.”
She stiffens. “I am not yours, Nightshade. We’ve been over this already.”
I freeze. Slowly, I turn to face her.
Is that fear in her eyes? Of me?
My chest tightens. A foreign kind of ache rips through my rib cage. But I push it down. I swallow it.
Instead, I kneel in front of her, slow and deliberate. She’s still perched on the couch, her body tense. I lift my gloved hand and trail it from her knee downward, my touch feather light but searing.
“Tell me something, baby girl,” I murmur, voice low, taunting. A smirk tugs at my lips beneath my mask. “Did you tell our dear friend Cade what we did this morning?”
Her lips press into a thin line. “We didn’t do anything, Nightshade.”
I click my tongue. “Tsk, tsk. What did I say about lying, Little Bird?”
From behind his desk, Cade bristles. “What is he talking about, Avi?”
A muscle in my jaw ticks. Avi.
“You let him call you that?” My voice is sharp, bitter, because she hates when anyone calls her that. Anyone but me.
She meets my eyes, silently pleading. “Nightshade.”
But Cade, the idiot, won’t let it go. “What is he talking about?”
I exhale a slow, dramatic sigh. “Oh, Little Bird and I had a battle of tongues for breakfast.” I tilt my head, watching her reaction. “The way she clung to me, the way she stole that kiss… it was like she was trying to steal the very breath from my lungs.” My voice dips into a sing-song lilt, designed to provoke.
Cade stiffens. His knuckles go white against the desk. And then, under his breath—but loud enough for me to hear—
“She is breathtaking.”
I see red.
I’m on him in seconds. My gloved hand wraps around his throat, lifting him clean off the floor and slamming him against the wall with a force that rattles the frames hanging behind him.
Cade chokes, his hands clawing at my arm, his legs kicking uselessly beneath him.
“ Nightshade! ”
Her voice. A sharp, fearful gasp that cuts through the chaos.
But I don’t let go. My grip tightens. My blood is fire, my mind drowning in a storm of possessiveness and fury.
“I told you to stay away from her, Cade.” My voice is low, lethal. Each word is a warning, a promise. “But you didn’t listen. Leading with your dick instead of your degree, huh?”
His face is turning red. His fingers dig into my arm, desperate to pry himself free. He’s fighting for air, fighting for mercy.
“She is mine. ” The words taste like iron, raw and absolute. “ If I ever see you touch her again in a way I deem inappropriate—”
“ Nightshade, please! ”
Her hands are on me now, small and trembling against my back. A different kind of ache cuts through the rage, carving something sharp and unbearable into my chest.
“Please,” she pleads, voice soft but urgent. “Let him go. Let’s talk about this. You’re hurting him.”
That last part— you’re hurting him —it shatters something inside me. But it’s not Cade’s pain that stops me.
It’s hers.
Her voice, full of desperation. Her touch, not one of comfort, but of fear.
My Little Bird.
I let go. Cade collapses to the floor in a heap, gasping, coughing, dragging in breath after breath like it’s the only thing keeping him alive. I don’t spare him another glance. Instead, I grab Avi’s hand and pull her with me, needing to get her out of here, needing to put distance between her and him before I lose myself again.
As we reach the door, Cade’s voice rises behind us, hoarse but firm.
“You know, I care about her just as much as you do, man.”
I pause. Just for a second. Just long enough to turn my head slightly, my voice colder than death itself.
“But do you love her like I do?”
I don’t wait for his answer.
Because we both already know it.
***
I pull her through the trees, my grip firm, my pulse a storm raging beneath my skin. The empty cabin looms ahead, a sanctuary, a trap—one I need to put between us and the world before I lose my mind completely.
The door slams shut behind us, rattling the walls.
She turns to me, breathless. “Nightshade—”
“No, don’t. ” My voice is sharper than I mean it to be, but I can’t take it back. I can’t let her soothe me right now, can’t let her words chip away at my control.
Because if she does, I’ll take her into that bedroom and finally show her the man beneath the mask.
She steps closer. “Nightshade…”
I squeeze my eyes shut, fists clenching. She doesn’t get it. She doesn’t understand the war inside me, the way my soul feels like it’s shredding itself apart every time I see her with someone else.
“I can’t do this, Little Bird.” My voice cracks, raw and unfiltered. “I can’t control how I feel around you. How possessive, how jealous I get. I swore to protect you. And I swore— I swore —that one day, you’d be mine.”
Her brows knit together, but she doesn’t speak.
I exhale, shaking my head. “I can’t sit there and watch you with another man. I just can’t. ”
She moves toward me, slow, cautious—but something in the way she looks at me undoes me.
Because it reminds me of the first time I saw her.
That moment when my breath caught, when fear curled tight in my chest, not because I was afraid of her —but because I was afraid of what she meant to me. Because in that instant, my heart was no longer mine. It was hers.
“Close your eyes, Little Bird.” My voice is quieter now, almost a whisper.
She hesitates, her lips parting slightly, her gaze searching mine.
“ Please. Just do it. I need this moment.”
And she listens.
She stills. And then, slowly, she closes her eyes.
Something in me snaps. My gloves are off in an instant, my fingers ghosting over her face, memorizing her like I did that night in the barn. My knuckles trace her cheek, the back of my hand sweeping over her jaw. My thumb skims her lips, soft and warm, the same lips that stole the breath from my lungs that first time .
“Little Bird,” I murmur, my voice thick with something deeper than longing, something infinite. “Our souls are twin flames. Destined to find each other in every life. Whether we’re together or not, we burn —you feel it, don’t you?”
She shivers beneath my touch, her breath shallow.
And then I lower my mask and I claim her lips against mine.
My lips press to hers, soft at first, but the fire between us ignites instantly, consuming, undeniable. It’s not just a kiss. It’s a promise. A brand on her soul, just as she’s branded mine.
She is mine.