“I know,”he says quietly. And for a second, the bond pulses with something that feels like warmth. Like home.
“Are you speaking to that overgrown lizard again?” Malriks' voice rumbles.
I pinch his side without looking up. “Dragon.”
“Potato, potahto.” I look up to see him grinning.
“Keep calling him a lizard and you’ll find out just how much fire he’s packing.”
He lets out a low chuckle, the kind that always makes me smile, even when I don’t want to. I missed him so much whilst he was gone. At this moment, even for just a moment, I want to stay here with him. Before everything changes and the unexpected happens.
I rise onto my toes and press my lips to his, soft and slow. He’s cold, like always, but familiar in a way that eases the thunder crashing through me. He doesn’t ask me to be anything else. He accepts the darkness that is hidden deep inside me that matches his.
I’ll never have to pretend with him.
He kisses me back with a hunger that steals the breath from my lungs, his hands splayed wide across my back as he pulls me flush against him. There’s no hesitation —just heat, possession, and the kind of desperation that leaves no room for doubt. A groan escapes him as his mouth claims mine, tongue sliding against mine in a way that makes my knees weaken and my heart race.
I break the kiss, just enough to breathe, but I don’t step away.
“I need you to promise me something before I tell you what comes next.”
His fingers tighten at my back, digging into my skin like he already knows he’s not going to like what I’m about to say.
“Will I hate it?”
I don’t lie. “Yes.”
“Go on,” he growls, already pissed.
I lift both hands and frame his face, memorising the way his eyes burn, the way his skin feels under my fingertips. I don’t want to forget a single piece of him. Not if this goes the way I think it might.
“Whatever happens down there,” I whisper. “You have to stick to the plan. Even if something happens to me.” I hesitate, the words catching on my tongue. But I force them out. “I need you not to save me.”
His whole body goes rigid, and I can feel the fury ripple through him as he holds me.
But I don’t look away, because I need him to see how serious I am. Even if it kills me.
Chapter 25
RONAN
My head hung low, blood dripping from my split lip, the metallic taste thick on my tongue. The chains suspending me from the ceiling dig into my wrists, the cold bite of metal a constant reminder that I wasn’t going anywhere. My arms burned from holding my weight, but that was the least of my problems.
For a torture chamber, the place was disturbingly spotless. Too clean. The walls were smooth, sterile grey—like someone had scrubbed away every scream, every drop of blood. Not a single crack or stain, not even dust. No windows either, just the low, constant hum of the lights overhead and the sound of my own rough breathing echoing back at me.
The floor was spotless, well apart from my blood splattered around me; there were built-in drains to make the clean up easier. No doubt this place got hosed down after every poor bastard got dragged in here and didn't walk back out. Efficient. Cold. Almost funny, if you ignored the part where I was the one bleeding on their shiny floor.
At the far end of the room, couches sat in perfect alignment, positioned like VIP seating at a fucked-up show. A place for spectators to lounge while they watched the pain unfold.
Sick fuckers.
If it's vampires, I don’t give a rat’s ass, but recently she’s hurt more supernatural beings.
My fingers twitch, the weight of the chains rattling in the quiet. I lift my head just enough to spit more blood onto the polished floor.
All this shit, and I can only think of Cherry.
My Cherry.
