The hum of the jet’s engines is a low, constant vibration beneath my feet, filling the cabin with a muted white noise that does little to calm the storm in my head. Outside the window, the world is a blur of dark skies and faint stars. My chin rests heavily on my palm, my eyes unfocused as I stare into nothing. The faint scent of leather from the seats mixes with the sterile air of the plane, but it feels distant, like everything else around me.I tell myself I took this business trip because it was important. Necessary. But that’s a lie. The truth is, I needed to run. I needed to get away. And while what happened with Lynette isn’t the only reason, it’s the one weighing most heavily on my mind.She knows I’m Kassian.The thought sits in my chest like a stone, heavy and suffocating. It’s almost laughable—something I didn’t realize until hours after fleeing her house. It wasn’t until I replayed the scene in my head for the hundredth time, each detail etched into my mind like a scar, th
I watch the crowd swallow her, my heart battering against my ribs like a trapped bird. The air feels heavier with each passing second, the smell of sweat and people thick around me, and my palms are clammy, slick with a nervous heat I can’t shake. My legs, locked in place moments ago like iron pillars, suddenly feel unsteady beneath me, trembling with urgency.Move.I force one foot forward, then another, until I’m sprinting. The world around me becomes a blur of motion and sound—voices rise and fall like a chaotic symphony, the shuffle of shoes against pavement grating against my ears. I shove past people, their startled protests barely registering as the bond pulls me forward, searing my chest like molten fire. It’s a warning, a promise, a curse all at once. If I don’t reach her, if I let her slip away, this fire will consume me.“Damn the goddess,” I mutter under my breath, teeth clenched. Damn this bond. Damn everything that’s kept me from her. Fenrir growls low in my mind, his pri
I arch a brow, trying to suppress the smile threatening to break free. “I am. Is that a problem?”She blinks at me, her skepticism clear. “I’m talking about you, in the kitchen, making dinner. Not ordering takeout. You can cook?”I hesitate, the question hitting a nerve I hadn’t expected. My mouth opens, then closes as I debate how to answer. The memory of her asking me—just the other night—what I loved doing in my spare time flits through my mind. I couldn’t answer then, too ashamed to admit the truth. But now, with her standing so close, looking at me with curiosity that borders on wonder, I feel my defenses crumbling.Cooking. It’s not a big deal to most people, but for me, it’s everything. My childhood dream was to be a chef, to lose myself in the art of creating something beautiful, something that brought joy. Even when my life spiraled into violence and chaos, I clung to that dream, nurturing it in the quiet moments when the world wasn’t looking. But admitting it to her feels li
“Lynette,” I say softly, interrupting her rambling. My voice is quieter now, steadier, though my own emotions threaten to betray me.She glances at me, her smile faltering for just a fraction of a second before she catches herself. “What?”I shake my head, forcing my expression to remain neutral. “Nothing,” I say, leaning back against the seat. “Just making sure you’re aware of a thing called food death.”Her grin returns, but it’s a little softer this time, a little less blinding. She focuses on the road, and I turn my gaze to the window, watching the city lights blur past. My mind races, torn between the warmth of her presence and the ache of knowing I’ve hurt her, of knowing she’s still carrying the weight of it.She’s just as anxious as I am, and it’s written all over her. The way her shoulders stiffen, the way her lips press together in a thin line, the way her fingers fidget with the hem of her jacket—she’s holding herself together, but just barely. I can feel it, as real and he
Her question punches through the warm stillness of the car, and I freeze, my body stiffening as the air grows unbearably heavy. My thoughts scatter, frantic and uncontrolled, as her words echo in my mind: Who’s responsible for Rowan’s death?The question is a blade, sharp and merciless, cutting through the fragile balance I’ve been clinging to since this all started. My fingers twitch, gripping my knees as if anchoring myself to the seat will somehow stop the panic clawing its way up my chest. For a moment, I can’t breathe, my lungs refusing to cooperate, and the soft hum of the engine feels deafening.I glance at her, but her eyes are fixed on the road ahead, her knuckles white against the steering wheel. The sunlight streams through the windshield, lighting up her features—the sharp line of her jaw, the way her frosty blonde hair shimmers like spun gold. Even now, with tension pulling her shoulders tight, her beauty is disarming, otherworldly. But her ocean-green eyes, anxious and g
I can still feel the hollow ache from that day, the way her absence echoed in my chest. She ran so far, even relocating to another country. She got a restraining order, made it clear that I was nothing but a nightmare she wanted to forget.The only mercy she gave me was her silence. She never told anyone what I was. She took my secret to her grave.But her death still haunts me.I look down, my gaze falling to my hands, trembling slightly as the weight of the past constricts in my chest. I see her face in my mind, smiling one moment, then disappearing in the flames that took her life. Fenrir’s voice breaks through the haze. “You didn’t cause that, Kassian.”“She wouldn’t have been in that country if it weren’t for me,” The thought claws its way through my mind, as the hum of the engine fills the silence. The warmth in the car feels stifling, pressing against my chest like a hand wrapped around my lungs. “If I hadn’t told her, she wouldn’t have run. She wouldn’t have been in that fire.
My throat tightens painfully, guilt crashing over me like a wave. I want to say more, to fix the crack in her voice, but the words stick, heavy and immovable. I glance at her hands again, noticing how her fingers clutch the wheel just a little too tightly, her knuckles pale against the black leather.“Lynette,” I say softly, my voice barely above a whisper. “Park the car first.”She doesn’t argue, doesn’t say a word. The car glides into a space near the house, the engine quieting to a low rumble before she switches it off. For a moment, neither of us moves. The air feels thick, heavy with unsaid words and emotions.Her hands fall from the wheel to her lap, and she turns her head slightly—not toward me, but toward the window. Her body is tense, her posture rigid, and the scent of her sadness—of her fear—grows stronger, filling the small space between us.My chest aches as I watch her, the sunlight catching the faint sheen of unshed tears in her ocean-green eyes. She doesn’t look at me,
The meadow stretches endlessly before me, a vast sea of wildflowers swaying with the gentle rhythm of the wind. I’m sitting on a small rise, my knees pulled tightly to my chest, arms wrapped around them, as if anchoring myself to the serenity of this place. The sun bathes my skin in warmth, its golden light soft and soothing, while the breeze whispers through the air, rustling the flowers in waves that look like an endless, rippling ocean of color.I close my eyes and inhale deeply, letting the scents wash over me—a blend of sweetness, earthiness, and something distinctly alive. It’s intoxicating, grounding me in a way that feels like this meadow was made just for me. The soft fabric of my cream-colored dress brushes against my legs as I lower them, the georgette featherlight and almost teasing against my skin. I lean back, pressing my hands into the soft earth for support, and tilt my face to the sun. The warmth sinks deeper into me, and I let the soft hum of the breeze fill my ears,
The wind rushes past me, tugging at my hair and sending strands whipping against my face. I exhale slowly, letting the evening air cool the warmth lingering on my skin. The yacht moves smoothly across the water, its golden lights reflecting in shimmering ripples, dancing over the dark waves. The moonlight tries to break through, casting silver trails across the surface, but the glow from the ship is warmer, richer—soft golden hues bathing everything around me. The low hum of the engine merges with the faint sound of music drifting from inside, slightly distorted by the ocean breeze.I grip the railing, letting the cool metal steady me. This is Kassian’s yacht.How did I end up here? Good question.After Kassian drops that heavy and evasive information about a secret Rowan also has and didn’t tell me, I realized he had been trying to divert my mind, leading me in circles with playful speculation about what his secret could be. It works—partially.I can’t stop thinking about it.The sec
A laugh bubbles up in my throat. “You made wine?” I exclaim, staring at him in disbelief. “You never fail to surprise me.”Kassian shrugs, but I can see the faint pink dusting his cheeks. I don’t hesitate any longer—I grab a fork and dig into the Tex-Mex fajitas first, bringing a bite to my lips. The moment the flavors hit my tongue, my eyes flutter shut. The smokiness of the grilled peppers, the perfectly seasoned meat, the hint of citrus—it’s incredible.“Oh my God, Kassian,” I say, dramatically clutching my chest. “This is unbelievable.”He scratches his chin, looking equal parts embarrassed and pleased. “It’s not that—”I ignore him, reaching for the chicken enchiladas next. One bite, and a moan of delight escapes me before I can stop it. “How are you this good at cooking?” I marvel between bites, practically inhaling the meal.Kassian watches me, an unreadable expression flickering across his face, before finally taking a few bites of his own. But I notice he only picks at the ch
I press a hand to my mouth as laughter spills from my lips, light and uncontrollable. Before me stands a gazebo bathed in the soft glow of the evening sun, its elegant frame draped in gold and white—the colors I adore. White roses climb its pillars, their petals luminous in the golden light, while delicate strands of silk intertwine with the beams, fluttering gently in the breeze.The gazebo itself rises gracefully from the water, a dreamlike structure resting on the tranquil surface. A charming wooden bridge, painted in pearl-white with golden railings, stretches from the shore, inviting me forward. Beneath it, the water reflects the scene like a liquid mirror, shimmering with the warm hues of the fading afternoon.Inside, a round glass table with intricately designed white-gold legs sits at the center, set for two. Lanterns, shaped like water lilies with golden lily pads, are placed strategically around the space, ready to bloom with light as dusk approaches. Fresh floral arrangemen
I turn my head to the side, expecting to see Kassian in the driver’s seat, but he’s not there. Confusion tugs at me, my still-groggy mind struggling to catch up. Then, belatedly, I realize—the hand on my temple, the one that had so effortlessly erased my headache, hadn’t come from his direction.Slowly, I shift my gaze to the other side, toward the open door. The ringing in my ears finally fades, and my vision clears enough to see Kassian crouched beside me, his fingers gently massaging my temple. His expression is calm, but there’s a quiet concern in his eyes as he studies my face.“Are you alright?” he asks, his voice low, steady.Still dazed, I blink down at myself. My seatbelt is off. At some point, he must have unbuckled it. The pieces fall into place—I must have slept through the entire ride, and when I wouldn’t wake up, he decided to carry me.I shift slightly, glancing past him to take in my surroundings. The warm afternoon sun bathes everything in a golden glow, casting long,
Bright lights surround me, too sharp and blinding to bear. I squint, my eyelids fluttering as I try to make sense of my surroundings. Everything feels hazy and disjointed, like I’m caught in a dream I can’t wake up from. I can barely make out what looks like the interior of a room—maybe a bedroom—but the light burns my eyes, making it difficult to see my surroundings clearly. The sting is painful, and it makes my head ache.A sound reaches me. Faint at first, then more distinct. A baby crying. It’s distant, yet somehow it feels impossibly close, like it’s coming from within me. I try to turn my head toward the sound, but I feel trapped. My limbs are heavy, unresponsive, as if my body isn’t my own. Somewhere nearby, there’s movement—soft, shuffling sounds that seem to come from all directions. I try to focus on them, but my thoughts are sluggish, like wading through molasses.Where am I? How did I get here?The last thing I remember is Kassian. His voice, low and soothing, telling me t
My hands tremble as I grab my bag again, rushing toward the door for the second time today. The air feels heavier now, thick with the weight of what’s about to happen. I pull the door open, only to freeze as a familiar car screeches into my driveway, moving so fast it’s like he’s being chased. My heart slams against my ribs, a cold sweat forming at the back of my neck. Fear coils tightly in my chest, but I force a smile and clutch the strap of my bag, gripping it until my fingers ache.The car door opens, and Kassian steps out, his every movement deliberate, precise. For a moment, I forget how to breathe. His cherry-blonde hair sweeps back in layered waves, the tips faintly tinted golden blonde, as if kissed by sunlight. A few loose curls fall over his forehead, framing those striking amethyst eyes, which seem darker, sharper than usual. The faint trace of eyeliner only makes them pop more.He’s dressed in black—everything from his fitted shirt to his boots hugs him like a second skin
The warm breeze brushes gently against my skin as I lean back on the gold bench, my head tilted over the top rail, eyes closed. The sunlight filters through the trees, bright but not blinding, its warmth settling over me like a soft embrace. It’s the kind of day that would normally make me smile, the kind of serene weather that feels like it belongs in a painting. The wind whistles faintly in my ears, carrying with it the rustling of the leaves and the faint, sweet scent of the flowers planted all around the compound.Somewhere nearby, I can hear the sound of the bodyguards moving about—soft footsteps against the gravel, the occasional murmur of conversation. They’re distant enough to make me feel like I’m alone, yet close enough to remind me that I’m not.For a moment, I pretend everything is fine. I try to lose myself in the warmth of the sun, the gentle sway of the breeze, and the steady rhythm of life around me. But it doesn’t last. It never does.I exhale slowly, and the fragile
The message stares back at me, the image burning into my eyes—a picture of myself, almost completely naked, clad in nothing but my panties. Below it, the words: We should meet up again, sugar baby.My hands tremble as I clutch the phone, and a cold sweat breaks across my skin. That pet name—sugar baby—slams into me like a freight train. My stomach twists violently. I know who sent this. One of them is back. One of the older men I swore I’d left behind, forgotten, erased. It isn’t just a message; it’s a threat.The air feels suffocating, thick and heavy. My mind churns with fragmented memories of my past—the choices I made, the things I did, the way I used to laugh about it all, brushing it off as fun, as easy money. The faces of men, much older than me, flash in my mind—predatory smiles, the way their hands lingered too long. I always thought it didn’t matter, that it wouldn’t follow me. But now, it’s back. And it’s here to destroy me.My legs feel weak as I stumble to the bed, collap
I sway my hips in time with the soft rhythm of my humming as I sort through the pile of clothes scattered across my bed. My fingers skim over fabrics, from silks to cottons, as I try to pick the perfect outfit for tonight. A grin tugs at my lips as I imagine Kassian’s face when he sees me. This is our first official date as a couple, and the butterflies in my stomach haven’t stopped fluttering all day.The past few days have been nothing short of bliss. I never realized how wonderful it could feel to be with someone you genuinely care about—someone who reciprocates those feelings in their own unique way. Kassian’s not the kind of man who showers me with flowery compliments or over-the-top romantic or flirty gestures, but there’s something so steady, so real, about the way he cares. He checks in on me constantly, making sure I’ve eaten or that I’m safe, even if it’s just a quick text.He’s awkward sometimes—cold, even—but that bluntness is something I’ve grown to love. It’s honest. Gen