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Pressing my finger to her neck, I find her pulse. It’s strong, and her chest heaves with each breath she takes. Whether it’s the fatigue from being under the weather, or the spirited punishment I just doled out, she’s out like a light—in hindsight, maybe I could have gone a little easier on her, since she’s still sick.
I lower her legs to the bed and adjust my clothes. After freeing her from the cuffs, I pick her up and take her to my room where she belongs.
It’s when I’ve tucked her in and I’m slipping out of my clothes that I realize just how light I feel. Alize has dispelled the trepidation hanging over me on the eve of the most important night of my life, the way she always does.
She’s always exactly what I need.
Her hair’s loose on my Egyptian cotton pillowcase, reminding me that I left her bonnet in the other room. I move to go and get it, but then something else crosses my mind. If I want to win tomorrow, I have a bargain to uphold.
In the drawer of my nightstand, I find the DNA collection vial Lev gave me. I pluck a strand of hair from the center of her head and tuck it away in the vial. When I’ve put it away, I go back to her room for her bonnet and put it on her head.
Crawling into bed beside Alize, I pull her against me, wrapping my arms around her waist. Her body is soft and warm, a stark contrast to the hard lines of my own. We’re different in so many ways, but alike in all the ways that matter—I wouldn’t have it any other way.
I press a soft kiss to her forehead, letting my lips linger there while I drift off to sleep.
THIRTY-SIX
ALIZE
“How soon will we know?”I whisper to Ezra, nibbling anxiously on one of my fingernails.
He’s standing beside me with his arms crossed, his gaze focused on a nearby bust of some old guy. “Any minute now,” he says with a shrug. His jaw flexes with tension. “The polls closed hours ago and there aren’t that many votes to count.”
I let out the breath I’ve been holding, smoothing my palms down my jean-clad legs. The four of us are in one of the windowless holding rooms adjoining the auditorium where the elections were held. It’s barely big enough for all of us, with marble floors, wood-paneled walls and a velvet sectional.
Ezra and I are standing behind the sofa, Vance is perched on one end with his feet up. Alexander sits on the other end with his hands webbed beneath his chin and his eyes closed. He’s been like that since we’ve entered the room, and I haven’t had the guts to say anything to him.
On some level, I’ve always understood how important this was to him.
Apparently he needs to win this election to have a shot at joining some secret society, or whatever. It’s bigger than just what happens at Saint Frederic University. Though I’m woefully out of the loop because I’m not privy to the details of their Kingmaker stuff, it must be similar to how I felt after applying to Harvard. The nerves. The anxiety. Wondering if I did all that I could. Wondering if my best would be good enough.
I wring my hands.
I really hope he wins. Alexander’s so sure of this. It feels like it’s his purpose. I admire the fact that he’s so sure of his future, even though I’m still a bit undecided about mine. It’s one of the very first things I discovered I liked about him—he always gets what he wants, no matter the cost.
Even when it’s me.
A blush snakes up the back of my neck, and I hike the collar of my turtleneck a little higher, memories of last night filling my mind. There’s the phantom of his hand around my throat, the pain slicing through my limbs as he bound me, twisted me and fucked me until I passed out. The rush of it is still raw, and there’s wetness pooling between my sore legs at the thought. It wassogood,sopainful, so much of what I love.
I suck in a breath. I’m in public. I need to get a hold of myself.
Confusion isn’t even the right word to describe the conflicting emotions twisting through my gut. It’s bigger than confusion. I feel like I’m at a crossroads—caught between a world I already know, and one I have no idea what it could become.
And I need to make up my mind.
I stare at Alexander, thinking of all of our memories together.Allof them. He was all of my firsts—even my first heartbreak. I’m inexplicably drawn to him in a way I never believed existed. He knows me inside and out. We’re two halves of the same coin, forever bound by our love of inflicting and receiving pain, of giving and taking, of knowing what the other person wants before they even say it.
A future with him could satisfy me.
I’m satisfied right now, that’s for sure.
But if what I want ever changes, Alexander would never let me go. He’ll support me in whatever I want—as long as what I want includeshim. And at eighteen, finally getting a taste of freedom, it’s a little terrifying.
It’s almost like trading one prison for another—a cushier, more spacious prison with a jailer who fucks me like my orgasms are essential to his existence. If what I want istrue, unfettered freedom, then escaping into the unknown is probably the only way to get it.
What if I don’t like it, though?
What if after running away and living on my own, I realize that I preferred a life with Alexander? In the moments we’re alone, I do feel free. But, not in the conventional way. It’s freedom to be myself. Freedom to honor my deepest, darkest desires. How would I—
