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I gulp. An incident? I respect that she won’t tell me, but it doesn’t mean I’m not interested.

The driver pulls into Killian’s driveway, leaving the car idling.

“What I’m saying is that KiMay have been through life together, and it’s hard to compete for the affection of Killian, period, let alone compete with that, and I’ll be honest, no one has ever come close to being important to him—no one but Maya.” She offers me a small smile. “Just be careful and try not to let any walls down as far as Killian is concerned. He’s damaged. So damaged the only person who will ever be able to comfort him is Maya.”

I sigh, unclicking my seatbelt and reaching for the door handle. “Thanks for the chat.” I push open the door. “I’ll see you tomorrow?”

Val nods. “Yep! Have you thought about where you’re getting marked?”

I groan, cracking my neck. “Not really. I mean, I don’t know where my parents were, so I don’t know.”

Val smiles, but it doesn’t reach her eyes. “Okay. Well I’ll see you tomorrow.”

I shut the door and turn toward the large house. “Great.”

The four white pillars are spread across a vast porch. There’s a chair at the front and solar lights spread throughout the well-kept garden bed that lines it. I jog up the stairs and open the front door, closing it quickly and making a run for my room.

“Oh, hello!” A voice interrupts my step just as I’m halfway up. I turn around to face her.

“Hi! Sorry, I didn’t mean to disturb you.” She’s wearing a white tennis dress and white tennis shoes. Her red hair is in a clean top knot and her face is bare of makeup. She has to be around mid-thirties.

“No!” She waves me off, flashing a stunning smile. “I’m Cora. I take care of the house while the Corneliis are away. I reside in the pool house in the back.”

I shuffle on my feet.

“Sorry,” she apologizes again. “Just let me know if you need anything and I’ll try to do what I can while you’re here.”

“Thank you, Cora, and my name—”

“—Saskia,” she whispers softly.

Shocked into silence, I take one step back down the stairs. “How did you know my name?”

She shakes her head, waving me off. “Killian had told me prior to your arrival, to ensure your room was ready.”

“Ah, okay. Well, goodnight!” I wave her off and continue back upstairs until I’m in my room.

I flip the lock, strip out of my clothes, dumping them in the dirty pile and slipping in and out of the shower, paying extra special attention to scrubbing off my face. Once I’m clean and sedated, I flip off the light and climb beneath the covers of my bed. I didn’t even put my phone on the charger, and before I could mentally drag myself up to grab it, my eyes had fallen and sleep had taken hold.

Black. The room is filled with dark smoke, spilling over my body. My vision is unclear, with no bright spots. No humanity. No light. No thoughts…

Banging. Loud thumping. A gorilla? King Kong banging on his chest? “Gorilla” by Bruno Mars starts playing in the background with laughing chimpanzees dancing around the room.

“Sass!” The gorilla spoke my name perfectly, before banging on his chest again. “Open the fucking door!”

Wait, what?

Another bang just as I shoot up off my bed, my heart racing and hair flying everywhere. I shove my eye mask over my head and rush for the door, worried that something may have happened while I was sleeping.

I swing it open, wincing at the sheer audacity of the hallway light.

Killian is standing in the door frame, seething, his chest bare and scratch marks down his chest.

He takes a deep breath, falling backward and sliding down the wall.

Scrubbing my eyes clean, I finally see him in real light. Along with the scratch marks, there are small splatters of blood over his chest, hands, and face.

“What happened?” I ask, falling to the ground opposite him while checking for injuries. “Killian!” My hands come to his cheeks and I pull his attention to me. “What. Happened?”

When his eyes fall on mine, they’re distracted. Lost. As if he’s here physically but not here mentally.

“Had to make sure you were okay.” He’s still not looking at me, so I move my head around to try to catch his sight.

“What do you mean?”

He reaches for my cheek, running his bloody thumb over my lip. “Where’d you go?” His voice is strained, and I watch as his vulnerability rears its ugly head.

I lean into his touch. “Home, Killian. I came home.”

“Home,” he answers, his hand falling beside him. “I kind of like the fact that you’re calling my home, home. God, I fucking hate Kiznitch.” His eyes squeeze closed.

“Come on.” I reach for his hand. A heavy thud sounds out from behind him.

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