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Still close to Declan, I didn’t move back as he leaned into me. His eyes were dark and intense. “It’s never about right or wrong, Clover. It’s about protecting what you care for most—regardless of the cost. You don’t have to understand it. . . You’re just important to me.”
My eyes welled up with tears, battling the truth of his actions that threatened to shatter my entire life. He had been my savior, and yet he could commit such a heinous act. I was at a loss for words, unable to comprehend what had just happened. I knew nothing would ever be the same again, as if an unbreakable chain had bound me to him for eternity; even if I wanted to run away, I wouldn’t be able to escape his possessive grasp.
“You barely know me.”
“I know enough,” he replied with a shrug.
“You’re insane.”
“You’re mine, Wildflower.”
I shuddered, my breathing erratic. “Declan, I . . .” My voice trailed off helplessly as I tried to comprehend what he was suggesting. His words clung to me like a veil of steel, possessive and relentless. A daunting silence descended around us, thick with tension and unspoken danger. With a few simple sentences, he had claimed me as his own and made it clear that he would do whatever it took to protect me—even take lives if necessary. A thrill ran through me despite the fear his words provoked.
He looked deep into my eyes, his claws digging into my skin. “I know it’s a lot to take in, Clover. You’ll make peace with it soon.”
My stomach churned with fear and excitement as I processed what he said. “This isn’t something you just make peace with.” I swallowed hard, my heart pumping ridiculously fast. “Am I . . . am I an accomplice to murder?” It was almost too much for me to handle.
His lips grazed my ear. “It’s okay,” he whispered. “I won’t let anything bad happen to you. It’s been taken care of.” He spoke in a husky and commanding tone.
“What does that even mean?” I breathed, barely able to contain the fear and excitement rolling through me like thunder.
His fingers brushed my cheek.
“It means, Wildflower,” he began, his voice hypnotic and electric, “that I’ve made sure you won’t be implicated in any way. I did it to protect you, and I’ll continue to do whatever it takes to keep you safe—no matter what.”
I pushed his hand away, my heart pounding with a mix of fear and confusion. “I can’t be a part of something like this. I appreciate you saving me, but I can’t condone murder. Holy shit, you killed them. Are you sure? I . . . I need some space to think.”
His eyes darkened, and I could see the conflict within him. “You don’t need space, you need breakfast. How does bacon sound?”
I blinked, taken aback by his sudden change of topic. This man was completely unhinged. Part of me wanted to argue and insist on having the space I needed, but another part of me recognized that he was a literal murderer and was supposedlyclaimingme. I wasn’t even sure I could escape.
His proclamation was a stark reminder of the terrible situation I was in. Could I really argue with a man who had killed six people in cold blood?
“Breakfast sounds . . . good,” I murmured, the words leaving my lips in a reluctant whisper. I wasn’t in a position to argue, nor did I have the energy to. I felt like I was teetering on the edge of a cliff, one wrong move away from plunging into the abyss.
A small smile pulled at the corner of his lips, the predatory glint never leaving his eyes. He moved away from me, leaving me to sit alone on the couch as he strode toward the small kitchenette. I watched him with wide eyes, my heart pounding erratically in my chest.
As he busied himself with cooking, I took the opportunity to collect my thoughts. The smell of bacon wafted through the air, but I barely noticed it. My mind was too preoccupied with the reality of my situation. The pain. The terror. The realization that Declan had murdered those men. His claim on me. His promise to protect me.
The fact that I was sitting in a small RV, far from my own home, with a man who was both my savior and my captor . . . Every fiber of my being screamed at me to run, but where could I go? The man I’d once trusted had turned out to be a ruthless killer. I was entirely at his mercy.
The smell of bacon growing stronger brought me out of my thoughts. Declan had set two plates on the small coffee table in front of the couch, each piled high with food. He moved to sit across from me, his gaze never leaving my face.
“Hope you like your eggs scrambled,” he said, his voice unusually gentle.
I nodded, finding my voice suddenly deserting me. My mind was spinning, too overwhelmed to comprehend the sudden normalcy of the situation. Here I was, sharing breakfast with a man who was a killer. His possessiveness was terrifying. His conviction was chilling. And yet, despite all that, a part of me felt safer with him than I ever had before.
The rest of the breakfast passed in silence, the only sounds being the clink of cutlery against the plates. It was strange, surreal even. One moment we were discussing murder, the next we were sharing a meal. It was as if nothing had changed, as if the confession hadn’t happened. But it had. The reality of it was a constant presence, a shadow that loomed over us.
When breakfast was over, Declan cleared our dishes while I sat there, lost in thought. His confession, his possessiveness, his care—it was all too much to take in. But one thing was clear—I was stuck with him. And whether I liked it or not, my fate was now intertwined with Declan’s.
It wasn’t until Declan settled down next to me that I realized I hadn’t moved from my spot on the couch. I was frozen, paralyzed by fear and shock. He didn’t say anything, just looked at me with those piercing eyes, as if he could see right through me.
“There’s a lot to process,” he said quietly. “But remember this, Clover. I won’t let anything happen to you. I didn’t save you just to let you go. You’re mine now.”
His words reverberated in my head, a chilling promise that had me trembling. Declan might have saved me from a horrific fate, but I couldn’t ignore the fact that he was a killer. He was dangerous, and I was his. The thought was both terrifying and strangely comforting.
DECLAN
