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This was something he’d planned.
“Well? Aren’t you going to talk?” she asked.
He moved in front of her, staring down at her from behind that ridiculous mask.
“Who are you? Where am I? What do you want?”
Would she ever see Gray again? Tell him she loved him? A sob escaped her.
“Please, let me go. What did I ever do to you?”
“You’re going to be mine.”
She jumped as he replied. That was unexpected.
“Do I know you? What do you mean, I’m going to be yours?”
“You’re destined to be mine. He said so.”
“Who . . . who said so?”
The asshole turned around, then drew up his top, revealing his bare back. For a moment, she worried that he was stripping so he could rape her.
Then she saw a tattoo in the middle of his back.
In the cult, when someone was chosen by the Deity to become a Sentinel, they were given a tattoo. A series of Celtic knots that went in a circle with an eye in the middle.
She swallowed heavily.
This guy had the same tattoo.
Who was he? All of the Deity’s Sentinels were dead.
Had he stalked and kidnapped her because she’d been part of the cult?
“Who are you?” she asked in a hoarse voice as he shoved his shirt down again, then turned back to her. “I mean, if I’m yours, I’ll have to see your face, right?”
She expected him to refuse. So she was surprised as he reached up and removed the mask.
Shock slammed through her as she saw who was staring down at her, his face filled with glee and hunger. It took her a moment to recognize him. He had a beard now and his hair was longer and tied back. He looked greasy and gross.
Holy. Shit.
“James?”
“You remember me, Little Birdie. Because we’re meant to be together. You’ve always been mine. Did you forget that you were destined to be mine?” Fury filled his face.
What was he talking about . . .
“You . . . it was you all along?”
“I’ve been watching over you ever since you moved out of Jenner’s house, Little Birdie. Where you went, so did I.”
Oh, fuck.
He’d been following her for that long? But why hadn’t he done anything until recently?
“You sent the flowers? The notes?”
