She narrows her eyes at me. “Smith.”
“For now.”
Haven scowls, but she doesn’t turn away. To me? That’s a fuckingvictory.
For weeks, every interaction between us has felt like I was trying to coax a frightened animal out of hiding. The only time I saw a hint of the old Haven was when she tried to escape me, but that disappeared almost instantly. I need to see that she still has spunk. Still has that spark. That she can still stand up to me like she always did—as long as she eventually understands that thereisno escaping me other than death.
Even then, though, I’ll haunt her until her bones are dust and her ghost is floating at my side for all eternity. That’s how much I love this woman. That’s how crazy I am for her. I’m plotting a happy-ever-after that leaves us immortal, while she’s just trying to survive another day.
Attempted murder definitely looks good on her. Instead of cowering or hiding, she's currently looking at me like she wants to commit another felony.
I’ll take it.
The notebook is shoved in front of my nose again.
you’re fucking insane, Connor Heyward!
I nod. "Yes. That is correct."
The pen goes back to the page.
You should be afraid of me… I thinkImight be insane, too.
She’s not. Instead, she’s a coddled, sheltered Offering who had terrible things happen to her in a world where that was never supposed to happen. Now she’s scared and she’s traumatized, but of the two of us, there’s only one who deserves a padded cell—or one in prison.
I think of how easy it was to slit Cameron Andino’s throat. Barry Wise’s, too. I don’t just attempt murder these days. I pull it off, and I’ll do it again and again if it means I get to keep Haven with me.
And if I tempt my own death by pushing her, reminding her who she is, who I am, and who we’ve always been to each other, it’s worth the risk to see the look on her face when I lean in and tease, “Nah, but I’ll tell you one thing: I’ve never been more turned-on in my whole life than when I realized you hid the foxglove between your thighs and I finally got between them.”
It was just my hand, but considering that’s the closest I’ve ever been to Haven’s pussy, it counts.
Haven gasps as the implication hits her. In the next second, she picks up the notebook, slapping me in the shoulder with it.
I give her the courtesy of at least wincing, turning my head so she can’t see my smile.
But, yeah… that was worth it, too.
TWENTY-ONE
WEDDING
HAVEN
By the time it’s the middle of August, and I’ve been forced into living with Connor Heyward for longer than I spent in Winter’s cold cell, I’m beginning to regret my half-assed attempt to poison him. Not so much stabbing him in the butt cheek and sending him tumbling down the stairs—that wasn’t me trying to murder him the same way the poison was—but definitely the trick with the foxglove.
Commit to the bit. That’s what he said. If I wanted him dead, I had to mean it—and that’s the problem right there, is it? I didn’t. I can admit that now. My anger and my frustration got the better of me, and I just needed to dosomething.
Like mold, Connor’s been growing on me. He doesn’t help that I always secretly had a thing for him. Growing up, he was handsome and he was flirty and he was charming. I’d go with Loni to the Harmony Heights High lacrosse games, acting like I was only doing it for her—because even when he was bullying her constantly, she couldn’t stay away from Adrian—while in reality, I couldn’t keep my eyes off of their star player.
I was jealous when other girls tried to get his attention. But when I had it? I told myself it was because that was just the kind of boy Connor was. Everyone was drawn to his personality, and when it bothered me that I wasn’t special—that he was like that with everyone—I looked for reasons to end my attraction to him.
Now, though? I remember how, the night of that party at his house, Sebastien Reynolds made a point that Connor doesn’t flirt with anyone. I thought he was full of it. Obviously, Connor was a notorious flirt and likely player. But after two months of Connor repeatedly insisting that he decided I would be his Offering long before I was announced as Adrian’s intended bride, I’m beginning to look back on every interaction we’ve ever had with a totally different eye.
I mean, it’s not like there’s much else to do to distract me while I’m his captive. So I think, and I remember, and I experience a twist low in my belly every time another memory pops into my brain that kind of, sort of gives credence to the baloney coming out of Connor’s mouth.
How often did I ‘bump’ into him while I was out doing errands? How often did I see him in my neighborhood even though his property is on the edge of Harmony Heights, near the woods? So many times I was choosing to eat dinner alone at one of the restaurants in town only for him to plop in the seat opposite of me, announcing to everyone that a pretty girl shouldn’t have to eat by herself.
He always paid, too. That would bother me. I have more than enough money to cover my own expenses, but he insisted. He would say that it was his duty as an Owed, while Offerings are meant to be pampered and taken care of. I thought he was fucking me, but if it cost him money, I might as well take it.
