Was Kit her Soulbond, too?
No.
Rin brushed the thought off, buried beneath a narcotized cloud. She had clung so desperately to the idea of having Lucien and Kit, her mind began to conjure fragmented what-ifs. That was all.
"You’re a victim of this. Don’t apologize for what was done to you," Lucien said.
"Kit’s a victim too, but he still caused so much pain." More than just how he’dtorturedher—she thought of her grief after he died, the sleepless nights. "You’re not angry I left?"
Lucien smiled, echoed by varying sounds from the others. A scoff from Rhyden, a huff from Auren, and a tutting sound from Cyrus as he walked his fingers across her legs, down to her ankle, then repeated it.
"I’m furious," Lucien said gently, "but we’ll talk about that later. What matters is that you’re here—with us."
"How did you break away?" Auren inquired. "We left you with Rhyden, did we not? No matter how hard I try to envision a way for you to best him, I cannot."
Rin’s gaze drifted to the vampire. His arms were crossed, jaw clenched.
"Well, I thought you knew—" she started.
"That I was a fool," Rhyden interrupted. The tenor was deep and frigid, melting against her flesh as if ice cubes were being dragged over her skin.
He stepped closer to her. Fear sliced through the haze of the drug. Lucien’s thumb traced the pulse point on the delicate underside of her wrist. Her heart rate spiked as the vampire drew nearer, reaching a peak as he brushed past Lucien and sat on the bed—far too close. His red eyes darkened into a deep maroon as she shifted, her back hitting the headboard. The same headboard she’d tied the ropes to, to ensure he couldn’t get away.
She shivered.
As if Rhyden read her mind—or maybe the direction of her thoughts was that clear on her face—he forced out a low sound. It bordered on histrionic, an overdramatization of anguish.
"I’m so glad you’re okay, wife," Rhyden grated the words out.
Lucien sat back, making space for the vampire. As his fingers drifted away from her hand, she tried to clutch him, make him stay.Don’t leave me alone with him, her eyes pleaded, but Lucien seemed resigned. His eyes read,I’m not yours. They are.
Or maybe she was projecting.
With Rhyden right before her, he took her face in between his cold, beringed hands. His fingernails dug into her cheeks, making her lips puff.
"I left her alone. I got a call from Miro on some intel. She was on the couch reading. I thought she’d be okay alone—for just a fucking second." Rhyden spoke as if she weren’t right there—as if he weren’t staring right at her, holding her fragile face in between his strong hands. He could crush her. She was even waiting for it. "I stepped out into the parking garage to take the call. I was… tied up in the conversation. I started pacing like a goddamned fool. I ended the call, and when I came back inside, she was gone. Must’ve slipped out while I was mere feet away."
Rin opened her mouth, cheeks squeezed from the vampire’s grip. She started to protest—thatdidn’thappen—but a look of pure violence befell his face, and his thumb—the one closest to the wall, hidden out of the others’ sight—dug in so hard that she felt the inside of her cheek cut on her molars, blood filling her mouth.
He exhaled sharply, as if scenting it.
Soft as falling flower petals, quiet as drifting snow, Rhyden leaned forward, still gripping her cheeks, as he pressed his lips to the corner of her mouth. His thumbs dug into the pressure point on her jaw, forcing her mouth to part fully. His tongue swept inside, briefly claiming her as he tasted the faint traces of blood from the cut on the inside of her mouth.
It was quick, barely a second.
He pulled away, lips hovering over hers as he repeated, "I’m so glad you’re alive." His voice was loud enough for the others to hear.
She knew that wasn’t all he wished to say.
Rhyden moved her head to the side, away from the wall and toward the others, as his lips met her ear. His voice dropped to a low whisper. Just for the two of them. "Because now I can get my revenge for what you did."
Cyrus curledup beside his little doll, fussing with the covers around her, wanting her to be warm and tucked in—safe.
The alarm disengaged, and his attention moved to the door as it opened.
Rhyden entered, clad in dark leather everything. His helmet was notched at his hip, his white hair messed up. Just like the buttons on his shirt.
Cyrus narrowed his eyes, soothing a hand over Vesperin’s hair until he pressed his palm flat against her ear. "I hope you’re not fucking anyone. I’d have to kill you for that—it’d hurt her, even if she never said so."
