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The laugh is bitter. “She’s your flesh and blood. I’m some nobody you found in the back of a truck.”

His eyes harden, jaw sets in a firm line. Leaning closer, he nearly topples out of his cot and squeezes my hand tight. “You are as much my own as she is. You might not share my blood, but you share my bond. We are the same.”

I hate when he says shit like this—hate that he makes me feel like his son. It’ll hurt that much worse when he’s gone. “I’ve given the orders already. No one goes near him but me.”

Sighing, he eases away from me. “He might be more cooperative if you lean into your old friendship. After all, what’s more attractive to a bee than a familiar garden?”

I stand, hands shaking too badly to properly control. “Too bad there’s nothing left in that garden but dirt,” I snap and haul ass out of there before he can see the tears welling in my eyes.

22

Saren

They’ve taken me back to the warehouse.

Instead of rope like before, I’m chained.

Ryx gave me another dose of that poison, so I’m barely conscious. Drool dribbles down my chin, the same piss-soaked pants hang low on my hips, and I’m fairly certain my feet are one degree away from frostbite. Despite it all, one thing keeps me going.

Rage.

It warms my blood, keeps my ears open, and itches for the chance to retaliate.

I meant what I said yesterday. I’m going to rip him apart. It won’t take much either—a single breath, a thought. Ryx has no idea the monster I’ve become. The very thing he swore up and down I was when we first met. Had things been different, he might’ve been the one thing to keep me safe from the temptation. He would’ve helped soothe the ravenous creature inside.

Too little too late, I suppose.

If he can pretend it all meant nothing, that everything we’ve been through and what we used to be is dead, so can I.

I’m strung up similarly to before, held up by shackles, and my legs dangle above the concrete. But this time, there is no Kane standing guard while Ryx tortures me. Only Danny. He’s got a bigger gun, too. A shotgun. Something that’ll take me out with a single pull of the trigger. His brown eyes bore holes into me, daring me to try what I did last time again.

My captor has been cutting me for the last several minutes; crimson weeps from my wounds. I’m panting, holding onto fraying threads to keep my howls of pain at bay.

Ryx makes a show of removing both gloves. A threat. To make me remember what his touch can do.

I spit at his feet.

“Charming,” he drawls.

“Pleasure is all mine,” I croak.

A smirk. Then his fingers twitch. I lock onto them, the pang of history a hard slice in my insides. He’s nervous. Stressed. Scared, even.

I can work with that. “Are you worried I’ll break through this fog again?”

“Where is the secret entrance?” He repeats for what feels like the millionth time. I can tell his patience has worn out.

“I don’t know,” I growl.

Glancing at Danny, Ryx says, “Close the door.”

“You sure, boss?”

“Do it.”

“Fuck,” Danny grunts, then slides the large door shut. With his back to it, he cocks the shotgun, the loud clack echoing through the warehouse.

“Unlike you, Ryx, I’m not afraid of the dark.”