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“I wish you’d trapped me, forced Alister to make me yours,” I spit. The weight of what I have hiding behind my back, tucked into my belt, presses into my spine.
“Why?”
“Because the weight of everything I want to do feels unbearable at times. And if you’d trapped me, I could blame my misery on you,” I reply as my throat thickens. My hands start to sweat.
He inhales, muscles coiling tight. With a brutal twist, he snaps the zip ties. Plastic bites the air. He’s free.
“I never wanted to control you. I wanted to stand beside you, and that’s why I let you go and gave you a head start the others didn’t have. Freedom to choose who you want as a partner in this game of rulers.” His voice is stern, yet soaked with underlying devotion. “I was praying on my knees every single night that you would come back to me.”
He takes a deep, controlled breath, as if holding back from touching me is as heavy as Atlas carrying the world.
“You should’ve been praying about how I came back,” I say coldly.
“You still worry about what others will think, Rylan. I told you life is too short to give a fuck about opinions.”
I freeze mid-step, pulse hammering.
“What about your opinion of me?” I ask.
He looks at the ground, asking for permission to step closer.
I shake my head.
He grins through his teeth. “You’re my queen,” he replies with his chin slightly dipped. “And you can do no wrong.”
I’m going to test that, Steffen.
“What about this?” I jerk my chin at him.
“Deserved.”
“Why can’t you be mad?” I snap. “I had you kidnapped and dragged here.”
“Love makes people do reckless things,” he replies. “Anders caught me. Don’t tell me you made a deal with him.”
“You don’t have a say in my future.”
He moves toward me, slow and deliberate. I retreat a step, refusing to let him close the distance. He halts, eyes locked on mine.
“Why did you set me free?” I shout.
“Because I love you,” he yells, then smirks as if hearing the words is a balm to his wounds.
“You were going to trade Nelson, your father’s killer, just to have a phone call with me,” I snap in an accusing tone.
Steffen’s eyes look past me down to the fjord. “I thought I needed revenge to move on. I didn’t.” He looks at me. “I needed you. Love. My heart.”
My hand trembles so violently the knife nearly tumbles from my grasp. His eyes sharpen, cold and suspicious. I clamp down on the hilt, knuckles burning.
“What are you doing, Rylan? How the fuck is Anders involved in this? Please don’t tell me you made a deal with him.”
“Your house is that way.” I point the knife to the left side of him, up the sloping hillside.
“I know my house. I know every inch of this land. What I don’t know is what my heart is doing. What are you doing, Rylan?” He watches me, wary.
I scan him, searching for wounds. Relief flickers through me—he’s whole. But there’s no light in him, only a raw, lonely ache.
Slowly, I reach behind my back and pull out the mask, flipping the switch to ignite the neon pink glow. I had it custom-made for this exact moment, it’s identical to the neon skeleton mask he wore last Halloween.
