VIOLET
Iwas getting tired of this man and his moods that were giving me whiplash. From stay to go, back to stay, and the heated look in his eyes made my insides burn.
Jesus Christ.
He was furious one minute, then flirting and referring to our night together ten years ago the next. His hot-cold behavior was making me dizzy.
One thing was clear though. I was staying in his home, and I intended to take advantage of that time to get closer to Aria.
As I stepped out into the hallway, Lykos said bitterly, “Follow me to my wife, Dr. Freud. It’ll be a sight to behold.”
I let out an exasperated sigh. He was back to cold. Although, considering we were going to see his wife, it made sense.
He turned the corner, then ascended the stairs, not even checking to see whether I was following him. Little did he know how often I’d wondered about his wife over the years.
Who was able to hook this man and keep him despite their madness?
We mounted staircases until we reached the third floor. There seemed to be only one room up here, with a double door made out of steel. Lykos reached into his pocket and unlocked the door.
He held it open, and I entered a large bedroom with a sitting area and an en suite. The tapestried room seemed to date back to medieval times, with its four-poster bed and stained-glass window perched above a gold-accented vanity. However, similar to the room I’d observed earlier, the space was somewhat bare. No personal effects were lying around. No paintings. No photographs.
Almost as if it was empty.
Until I noticed a woman in the corner wearing a white silk dress that reached down to her bare feet. She had long, ebony-colored hair, and she was pacing the rug like a caged animal.
The hardwood under my feet creaked and her head whipped around, her eyes locking on me. She growled, then threw herself on all fours.
That’s when I noticed…
“She’s shackled,” I whispered in shock, watching the scene with disbelief. The woman crawled toward us and I couldn’t help but step deeper into the room.
“Not too close,” Lykos warned, but I didn’t listen.
“This is inhumane, Lykos,” I rasped. “You cannot keep her this way.”
“It’s for her own protection. She tried climbing out the window and jumping off the roof. The ankle restraints give her enough room to go to the bathroom, pace around the bed, and sleep. Not that she does much of that.”
“B-but…”
I was at a loss for words.
“She flies into fits of rage, Violet,” Lykos added, noting my shock. A manic bellow broke through the air and she gazedwildly between Lykos and me. “She gets violent, tries to kill others as well as herself.”
As if to prove his point, she shot forward, but before she could reach me, Lykos flung me behind him. She grappled for his throat and he put his hand over hers to pull free, but she bit down, drawing blood.
He could have settled her with a well-planted blow, but he simply wrestled himself free and stepped beyond her reach.
“Now, Amara,” he said with a surprisingly calm voice, ignoring the blood dripping onto the hardwood, “we don’t attack, and we don’t bite. Do we?”
She hissed in response, and somehow I didn’t think the woman—his wife—agreed with him.
“This is Amara Costello,” he said with a look so desolate it hit me right in my soul. This was the reason I was drawn to him. He felt at a loss just as much as I did. His wife. My sister. Two different kinds of losses, but they hurt the same.
Amara continued to hiss and growl, yanking at her ankle-chain and eager to break free and attack again.
“Does she… talk?” I asked, watching the scene warily.
“Rarely,” he said. “A word here and there. The more time passes, the less she verbalizes.”
