“Quit staring at my mouth like you’re gonna eat it and tell me why you locked me out ten years.”
Kael fills the frame, rain dripping off his jaw, heat rolling off him so thick I can taste smoke and cedar and him before he even speaks. His sleeve rides up just enough to show that silver mark glowing bright, pulsing like it’s starving.
“Because if I’d let you back sooner,” he growls, voice rough as gravel, “you’d have torn this place apart before you understood you’d be tearing yourself apart too.”
I step right into his space, chest almost brushing his, boots planted firm like I ain’t backing an inch. “You think you get to decide what I can handle? You think you get to lock me away and call it protection?”
“I know what it does to you!” He slams his fist against the frame once—hard enough wood groans, hard enough that mark flares so bright it bleeds light. “Every time we crave you too hard. Every time we burn for you. It eats pieces of you, Lila. And you ain’t strong enough to fight it alone.”
My breath catches sharp. I grab his wrist, nails digging in, skin on skin burning hot enough to singe. “Then why sign it? Why chain yourself to me if you knew I’d bleed for it?”
“Because we couldn’t breathe any other way!” Rian’s voice cuts sharp from the hall. He leans against the banister, shirt unbuttoned at the collar, knuckles split, eyes dark and hungry and furious all at once. “We tried staying away. It almost killed us. We thought tying ourselves tight would keep us both safe.”
I turn on him, jaw set tight, heat coiling low in my gut that ain’t just anger. “You tied me to the weight. You made me the anchor while you got to be the storm.”
Silas steps down slow, heavy, like every step costs. “We were told it was the only way. We didn’t know it would feed on you.”
“Lies taste sweeter when you wanna believe ’em.” I sweep my gaze over Jax, Torin, Eli—all of ’em tense, burning, holding back like touching me would break them or make them lose control. “You all liked it too much. Liked knowing no one else could have me. Liked feeling like I belonged to you.”
Kael crowds closer, not touching but so close I feel the heat of him everywhere. His voice drops low, rough, thick with something wild. “You think this feels like belonging? You think waking up every night hard and aching, knowing one wrong touch will make you forget my name… you think that’s what we wanted?”
I yank my hand back, pulse hammering so hard my ears ring. “You wanted to own me. You just didn’t know the price had my name on it.”
The air shifts. Thickens. I feel it first at the base of my skull—soft then sharp, pulling like someone’s trying to peel my mind apart. I stagger back, hand flying to my temple, and for half a second I can’t remember the sound of Rian’s laugh. It slips like smoke through fingers.
“Lila?” Torin moves like he’ll reach for me then freezes, shaking. “Don’t fight it. It only hungers harder.”
“Then stop feeding it!” I snap, voice cracking. “Stop looking at me like I’m air. Stop breathing like I’m yours. Every damn thing you do makes it rip me apart faster.”
I shove past them toward the study, hand shaking when I hit the handle. It swings open easy, waiting. On the desk sits the iron box and that jagged black stone, glowing faint silver in the dim. I grab it—cold fire sears through my palm, shoots straight down my spine, makes my nipples tighten and heat pool heavy between my legs. I gasp quiet, curling my fingers around it like I’m holding a secret that could burn us all.
Footsteps behind me. Slow. Unsteady.
Kael stops in the doorway. His mark is blazing now, bright enough to paint the walls silver. “Put it down. Please.”
“Tell me my parents didn’t die for nothing first.” I lift the stone higher, watch it pulse in time with his heart. “Tell me you didn’t hand them over to keep me tied tighter.”
He goes still. So still I hear him swallow hard. “You think I’d ever hurt them? You think I’d ever hurt you like that?”
“I think you’d do anything to keep me close.” I step toward him, stone still burning, every breath thick with anger and hunger and something I can’t kill. “Even if it kills me slow.”
Before he can speak, glass shatters upstairs—loud, sharp, like something broke loose. And outside, through the rain, headlights cut dark across the drive.
Someone else is coming. And they ain’t here to talk.
END OF CHAPTER 1
