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“Oh, I knocked. You groaned your answer. I figured I’d better see if you were injured or whatevs. Seems you’re just tossing your cock like a desperate loser.”
“Says you,” I snarl. “When was the last timeyougot laid?”
His eyes narrow and I know I’ve hit my mark. It’s low and a bit mean, but fuck him and his lousy timing.
He comes closer, leaning in to stare at Ever climbing out of the shower. “Damn, I missed her. Lucky you, catching her at night. She’s a morning shower girl, usually.”
“Oh?” As much as I’d love to spy on her twenty-four-seven, it’s not practical, not possible. We take turns, and it seems Damien has her all to himself in the dawn hours, being the fucking early bird he is, or rather the all-time bird. Asshole insomniac.
But Damien understands the rush, the hunger that drives us. We all do.
I lean back in my chair with a smirk. The sense of victory is sweet, a rich taste that lingers on my tongue. There she is, unaware and so beautifully oblivious that I’ve jerked off while watching her shower. It’s a triumph that warms me more than the post-climax haze.
Ever steps out of the shower, droplets cascading down her skin like liquid diamonds, and I drink in the sight greedily. She wraps a towel around herself, and I lean closer to the screen as if I could breach thedistance that separates us. My heart doesn’t race; it prowls, a predator sated for now but eager for the next hunt.
She moves gracefully, the elegance of her movements never lost, even in the simplicity of drying off and getting dressed. We both watch, rapt, as she slips into pale pink pyjamas, the soft fabric hugging her form in all the right places. They’re modest but somehow accentuate her understated beauty, her classic allure that doesn’t scream for attention yet commands it all the same.
She truly is a goddess among women.
The light from her desk lamp casts a halo around her as she settles back into her studying, the golden strands of her wet hair spilling over her shoulders. The way she tucks a loose curl behind her ear with such focus, you’d think she holds the secrets of the universe between those textbook pages.
A sinister smile crosses my face at the dedication that makes Ever who she is—brilliant, independent, untouchable. But here she is, unknowingly touched by our gaze, by our desire. The game is deliciously dark, every move calculated, and the anticipation of what’s in her future has me hooked.
A sharp breath fills my lungs, cold and bracing from the cool night air drifting in through the open window. I straighten up, my spine rigid against the leather of the chair. The Four Cardinals are bound by more than friendship. We’re bound by a game that’s twisted and dangerous, where the stakes are always high.
The shadows know the game as well as I do. They know there’s no backing down, not when you’re playing with fire.
Ever might be my flame, but I’m learning how to control the burn.
4
DAMIEN
The pre-dawn darkness is the worst time. It’s when the demons that haunt my soul come out to play. Ignoring them by trying to sleep is pointless, so I embrace them with an intensity that borders on physically painful. The marks left by the cat whip on my back from the ritual yesterday are not enough. My hand itches for the blade in the drawer next to my bed. Closing my eyes, I reach for it, knowing exactly where it is. Pulling it out of the drawer, I lean my elbows on my knees and plant my feet on the floor. The soft, plush bedroom carpet, too big for my liking, is warm and cosy. Everything that is an antonym to the cold harshness that fills my soul like an icicle slowly melting. My room is a cave of deep shadows and secrets. The handle of the knife bites into my flesh as I grip it tightly before slicing the blade over the inside of my arm. Clenching my fist so the blood will well up and spill out down my skin, sticky and warm, I smile softly and open my eyes tosee the crimson stain my feet as it drips down. The pain is a whisper of a burn. Nothing more, nothing less. But it takes the edge off the demons, and that’s all I need to move out of this room and not wrap a noose around my neck to end it all.
Alistair would fucking kill me if I did that. Even if I were already dead, he’d bring me back just to kill me again. He doesn’t believe in failure or giving up. It’s probably why I’m still here.
Rising, I drop the knife on the desk near the windows and pick up the laptop. Watching Ever last night after Ben had jerked off watching her in the shower was uneventful. But then it usually is.
And that’s the way we like it. No drama. No assholes getting in the way. Just Ever being the good girl we know she is.
Flipping the top open, it’s instinct now, this need to check, to watch. The screen blinks to life as I crawl back onto the bed.
The cams flicker to life, revealing Ever’s room, and there she is—my obsession, my fixation. Not that she knows. The cameras are our silent witness, tucked away where she can’t see, can’t suspect. She trusts too easily; that’s her weakness. She doesn’t know the monsters who are watching her every move, who have integrated themselves into her life to keep her close. But that’s the icing on the cake, isn’t it? We will strike, and she won’t even see us coming.
Watching her, this isn’t about safety. This is control. Power. The thrill comes sharp and sweet as I invade her privacy without remorse. Ever is ours towatch, ours to know, even if she’s clueless to our silent guarding. I’m her twisted guardian angel with charcoal wings and more scars than I can count.
Leaning back against the pillows, my gaze fixed on the screen as I watch her fast asleep slumped over her homework. She pulled an all-nighter and passed out. It’s not uncommon around this University, especially not to Ever, but she won’t touch the myriad of drugs floating around to help stave off the exhaustion. The rest of the house sleeps, but here in my darkened lair, I am god. I am voyeur. I am danger. As dawn creeps closer, painting the sky with streaks of grey, I know one thing for sure: No one touches Ever. No one but us.
My body is suddenly tight with a restless energy that won’t let me sit still. Slamming the laptop closed, I rise again and barely notice the chill as I slip into a pair of black joggers after sleeping naked; I feel too warm. The weather is turning from what we in this country cling to as the end of summer and moving fully into autumn now.
The hallway is quiet as I walk towards the stairs, a shadow among shadows. The others are still asleep.
I reach the kitchen, the heart of this grand old townhouse we call home while we play our roles at KnightsGate University. The tiles are cold on my bare feet.
“Fucking hell,” I grunt when I see Alex leaning against the counter as if he owns the place. “Bit early for you, isn’t it?” My tone is sharp. This ismytime. I don’t battle those fucking demons to walk into thedawn and have company, for fuck’s sake. He’s got a mug pressed to his lips, steam curling up like whispers into the morning air.
“Haven’t been to bed yet,” he says with a slight slur.
