Chapter 8
Rory
I walk over to the woodline, where I saw Ryven watching us just moments ago.
When I step past the first tree, it’s quiet in the woods.
Not even a branch breaking or a leaf crunch can be heard all around me.
He loves this game—stalking me like I don’t see him every damn time.
Like a moth to a flame I’m drawn to him.
I always have been and that’s exactly the problem.
It doesn’t matter about our past. My feelings about his decision to join the cult with my brother, or the anger I feel.
My heart betrays me every time I see him.
It’s hard to hide my feelings for him when he is around me.
I hate him. I’m angry with him. I should be done with him.
But my stupid fucking heart still loves him anyway.
He was supposed to be endgame. He used to kiss me like I was something worth keeping. Now he touches me like I’m something to ruin.
He was the man I was supposed to live my happy little life with once he finished the initiation process.
But that year has come and gone. Ever since Joey died, I blame Ryven.
Not for his death, but for his secrets he chooses to keep.
For years, he has kept the knowledge from me surrounding Joey’s death.
He refuses to tell me what I have to know.
How he died. Who did it. I have to know.
How am I supposed to forgive him for that? I won’t. Not ever.
And yet here I am searching for him through the woods.
I scan the dense trees while squinting my eyes and then place my hands on my hips.
“Ryven, quit fucking around and come out. I know you’re here.
” My voice comes out steadier than I feel.
But that’s because if I let it slip, let the dip in my voice show any kind of weakness then he’ll hear exactly what he still does to me.
I sigh. Him and his stupid games he likes to play.
“Now, now, sweet rabbit.” His voice comes just before he grabs me from behind and I startle, throwing my elbow back to defend myself. “No need to be all jumpy, Ro. You’re the one who told me to come out.” His breath glides across my skin through his mesh mask, and goosebumps form on my arms.
Coming to my senses, I try to push off of him to give me some space, but he just tightens his hold across my chest. He turns us so my face is against a tree and slams me into it.
My skin scrapes against it, and I growl, shoving away from the trunk. “Get off of me, you idiot.” I try to grab at anything behind me to cause him pain but it only makes it worse as he pins both my arms behind me, pressing his body against mine.
He has me nailed to the tree, and the sane part of me fucking hates this.
Hates him. Hates what he turned into. But my body?
My body doesn't give a shit about any of that. That’s the worst part.
The part of me drawn to Ryven, is elated his hands are on me.
It’s been so long. I don’t know why he hasn’t given up on me yet.
It’s been years since my brother died, and I’ve yet to stop blaming him.
In fact, I actively blame him every time I get a chance.
And yet… this is how we are around each other every single time.
Holding me in place with one arm, he slowly travels his other down the front of my pants, and my breath stutters.
Not because I want it to, but because I know exactly what he’s going to do to me and I will love it.
“God damn it.” I hate that he can still pull that out of me.
I squirm to get away from him. Rage bubbles to the surface.
Fuck you, inner Rory, for liking this. Also, fuck you for wanting more.
“Oh, come on, Ro. You’ve always liked it when I take control,” he whispers in my ear, and I feel myself melting against him.
I should’ve been over him years ago? Why does his voice have such a hold over me?
“Why are you even here, Ryven? Why won’t you just leave me alone?” I spit, trying to lurch myself from his grasp. “Don’t you have better shit to do? Or did your cult finally let you off the leash?”
His grip tightens, and his lips brush my ear. “Just out on an early morning stroll to see who was dumb enough to dump a body in the middle of the park.”
I groan as pleasure pulses through my core as he caresses down my torso. “Ryven, please. We can’t do this right now. I just came from a scene, and the rebellion is still near.” Fuck this feels so good, though.
He dips his hand further into my pants, and I arch my back. “Since when has that ever stopped you?” he ponders, running his finger gingerly across my clit, and another moan comes out. “Always so wet for me, Rory. You like the thrill—the risk of being caught with a cultist’s hands in your pants.”
I shake my head but no longer fight against him.
Fuck, he’s right. I love the way Ryven uses my fucking body like he owns it.
Whether I like it or not, he’s dominated every part of me since high school.
“Stop,” I groan as he increases the pace, but my words fall on deaf ears.
He’s going to drag me right to the edge just to see if I jump.
And with one last flick of his finger, I almost pull away.
My breath stutters. I whimper my release into the tree as the waves of pleasure wrack my body, and I’m a shaking mess.
For a second, everything goes quiet. And I hate it.
Because for that one second, there’s no anger or hatred, just him.
With his hand still in the front of my jeans, Ryven turns me to face him and presses his body against mine.
While still slowly running his fingers along my center, he places his other hand on the nape of my neck and edges close to my face.
I can’t see anything but his eyes through his mesh mask with the teal X’s over them as I stare daggers at him.
Maybe that’s worse. Maybe knowing exactly what his eyes look like behind the mask is what cuts so deep.
How dare he have his fucking way with me in the woods. And how dare I fucking like it.
“I would remove your pants and fuck you against this tree, Ro, but you have company coming. And as much as I would love to see the look on his face as he watched me fuck you, I don’t think you would appreciate that.
” He pulls his hand free and brings his fingers to his lips before sucking them in his mouth.
He makes a lewd sound, slurping those fingers that fucked me like he craves my taste.
“You’re lucky I’m feeling generous.” He takes a step back and nods over my shoulder toward the area I came into the forest from.
“Wouldn’t want your friend getting jealous.
” He tilts his head, then vanishes into the dark like he was never there and just like that, I’m alone again. Like I always am after him.
I really should stop this bullshit.
My legs feel like mush as I try to stand against the tree when Thomas walks into the woodline.
“Rory!” he calls, searching for me.
Startled, I stand straighter and clear my throat. Brushing off the front of my shirt, I make my way back to the tree line to meet him and wave my arms at him. “I’m right here,” I grumble.
He looks past me into the woods. “What are you doing out here?” His gaze finds mine, and he cups my cheek. “What’s wrong? Your face is flush.”
I turn my face out of his grasp and start walking back to the scene. “It was nothing, Thomas. Let it go.”
I'm so sick of the men in my life just touching me whenever they want to. And I’m even more sick of the fact that I let one of them do it.