A Rose with Thorns

Bodie Summers

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Copyright © 2023 by Bodie Summers

All rights reserved.

'A Rose with Thorns' is a dark masked stalker romance with a fantasy twist. This book contains
multiple heavy triggers and explicit scenes. See my website if you want to check the trigger list.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, placed and incidents either are the product of the
author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead,
events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means,
including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author,
except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

First edition, 2023.

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 Chapter One

W
e all crave the same things, love that sweeps us off our feet. I
wanted that—rather, that was all I wanted, until I needed safety
more.
So, now I fake and pretend, like many of those around me. Fake loving
how they fuck for their own release. Never getting us to our climax; they
try, and we pretend whenever it takes too long. Never hitting the right spot
and when they do, that small moment when it feels oh so good, they finish.
Our orgasm is within grasp but always remains too far away.
Or when it feels like you are getting there, and the tempo changes.
Because they somehow told themselves you have to do a whole lot. Going
extremely fast—on the wrong spot, I might add. To get us to reach that
inexorable high.
That stupid high we all seek. We all try to climb that big mountain, hoping
to reach the peak and scream and tremble and scream again. Desperate for
that piece of euphoria.
But no, not in this lifetime.
 Stuck in a place I can never escape. Loving the other too much or not
daring to leave the other, so I just take the lack of orgasms, the lack of
safety. What else can I do?
Run, and then what? I am alone, maybe even till the end. Because who
says the next one who tries is going to be any better?
So, I stay.
I undergo.
I love.
I fear.
And I pretend.
And maybe, just maybe, I get a glimpse of that earth-shattering blissful
feeling. Maybe even twice. But more isn’t in the cards.
Perhaps you will have it all. Have that delicious dirty talk I crave.
I don’t even know what kinks I have. I get all hot and bothered when I
read a filthy book. Denigration kink, check. Praise kink, double check.
Daddy, master, sir. Give me it all.
Can’t someone call me a good girl for once?
I want to be slapped, choked, tied up, and submit to the fullest. I want
everything, to try everything. I want to know how it feels.
God, give me a whole harem to fuck me senseless. Make me lose count of
how many orgasms I have in one night.
Just please, I want something else. I want to know if I get the same
butterflies when I read about it. Or if I will be disgusted by it.
I want out of this slur of a life, out of this unsafe place. I want to be swept
off my feet.
I just—want so much more of everything.
 And still, I can’t have it. Never. Because this is my life, not some
fairytale.
I scoff, a smile pulling on my lips. No, I don’t want a fairytale. I want
something darker. So much darker. I want to live on the edge. I want to be
powerful. I want to be on the top of the world.
Why am I like this? Wanting the things I can never have? Do we all have
such thoughts? I always wondered if it was only me.
I’ve been good at pretending though, living my life. I have to. I made the
choice to marry him. I made the choice to get pregnant.
Okay, that’s not completely true. I was sixteen when I got pregnant with
my beautiful daughter. She was an accident, and I wouldn’t change it for the
world because she is the reason I’m keeping everything together.
If it weren’t for her, my sweet Lucy, I would have bolted a long time ago.
Leaving his lazy ass.
I fell hard for him, and I never left his side after that. He was my first, and
sadly, he will be my last.
When I hear my own thoughts like this, I truly wonder why I stay, but
then I remember I have no choice.
I have no freedom, no money. I have nothing without him.
However, my life is changing. I am changing. I have to.
As my loving husband has been staying home because of his bad knee.
And his temper is getting worse.
This is the time to rise up and grab what I want with both my hands.
Freedom.
I applied for a job in the city with a big investment firm as an assistant. Is
it something I have done before? Yes, definitely. But I had to quit when
Lucy got sick. Had to stay home with her, but now she is doing so much
better, and she has just started school. So again, freedom.
Reclaiming a part of my life I had lost. Living my life instead of merely
existing on autopilot.
The only thing I ask of my husband is to bring her to school and pick her
up. Easy, right? Seeing as he is home all day, every day now, playing video
games or having company over.
Is he doing chores around the house? Cooking dinner? Doing the laundry?
Hell no. It would be such a turn-on if he did, though. He would totally get a
reward.
I even tried to tell him that, but he only laughed and said if he wanted me
to suck his dick, he’d already have it down my throat.
The arrogant commands sound so great in my head. But when they come
from him, as he scratches his beer belly that hangs from under his stained
shirt, with the crumbles of food in his dirty beard, I only shiver and quickly
complete the household chores myself.
And now, the sound of my heels clicking on the marble floors of this
massive office building leaves me breathless. The scent of freshly brewed
coffee wafts from a chic café tucking in the right corner, beside the open
elevator. The one that seems to wait for me, luring me closer to my new
life.
All my thoughts fly out the window, and I blink away tears. Realizations
hitting me, that this moment can change everything.
Please don’t cry. I spent way too much time on my makeup to ruin it now.
If I get the job, I’ll have to go shopping. Thankfully, I still had a black
pencil skirt and a simple white button up that I could tuck into for this
interview. You don’t need much to look well-dressed, but I have to get some
new stuff. I want to get some new clothes to fit the new me.
I might not be able to live my fantasies, and that’s fine. But I will try to
look sexy as hell in my okay life.
And by the looks I got on the street on my way here, I’d say I was
successful.
Is it so bad that I’m in such need to be noticed? Just to have a second
glance and a soft smile on someone’s lips saying, “I see you gorgeous”?
When I got ready this morning, my husband didn’t even look at me. Oh,
wait, he did. He said, and I quote, “Are you sure you’re going to wear that?
Isn’t it a bit tight?”
Am I super confidant? No, definitely not. But there is just something
powerful when you freshen up like this. It’s just such a difference from my
normal attire. My mommy attire. No messy bun on the top of my head, no
sleepy eyes, no baggy clothes. No, I’m owning everything I’ve got.
But the confidence I have slowly developed shatters once I reach my
destination. I cautiously step out of the elevator, my eyes drifting over the
carpet floors, the chairs lining the wall filled with other women for the same
job.
Fuck me.
I’m thirty minutes early and already contemplating whether I should just
leave. As my nerves reach higher, my palms turn sweaty, and I pat down my
skirt.
Maybe I should have worn something else?
A tall slender woman with sleeked black hair steps closer with a clipboard
in hand. “You must be Miss Wallen.”
 I take her hand and swallow the whimper as her hand tightens around
mine.
“And you must be Miss Linn?” I ask with caution, recognizing the sound
of her voice from when we spoke on the phone.
She smiles sweetly with a nod, then peels her hand away and gives me the
clipboard. “Once you’ve finished the list, come find me.”
With that, she leaves me, and my eyes sweep the hall. Women are
chatting, all stunning without a single flaw.
My glasses inch down, and I scrunch my nose in response. Maybe I
should have worn my contacts.
With a sigh, I slowly wander, hoping to find a chair, but after a few feet I
notice a door that leads outside. Cigarette smoke lingers inside, and I shake
my head, knowing what stupid shit I’m about to do. I stopped smoking
years ago, but maybe it can help just a bit.
Clipboard in hand, I follow the smoke, needing to soothe my nerves.
I’d expected to see another woman, but the smoke that pulls me closer
comes from a man. He wears a dark blue tailored suit, his jacket hanging
over the railing of the small balcony. He puffs my way with a smirk
plastered on his thick lips. His deep brown eyes glare at me, a redness
swirling within.
Perhaps I should go back inside.
Not a word is said as we stare for a moment. Then his brows crease, and
he offers me his cigarette. Pulling my lips between my teeth, my eyes snap
to his hand, the temptation too great.
I probably won’t get the job anyway, so what do I have to lose?
I smile and take his offer. “Thank you,” I whisper.
“I’m Johnny,” he says as his gaze shamelessly rakes over my body.
 “Rose.” I focus on the view of the city, watching how the sun rays filter
through the tall buildings, needing something else to keep me from staring
at his intense eyes. I don’t know if it’s the red tone I see, or the way he
looks at me.
With one last puff, I hand him back his smoke and glance at the clipboard.
He says nothing as he watches me read over the form. His dark hair falling
forward as he bends closer.
My brows furrow. Why the hell do they need to know my blood type?

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 Chapter Two

I
can’t help the quivering in my hands as I make my way through the
interview, answering all they want to know. Even the questions that
don’t make any sense to me.
But I’m not going to be picky; I will accept anything they want me to do.
Well, almost anything.
I can already feel it: I’m not getting the job—the way they glance over the
questionnaire I filled out, the disinterest they show.
Already knowing I don’t truly fit in a place like this. The office we’re in
smells like daisy’s and it should make me feel more at ease, but as I take it
all in. The windows from floor to ceiling, the abstract art on the walls, the
thick black wooden desk she sits behind as she taps her nails on it
impatiently. I could never fit.
A knock on the door makes me flinch, and the woman across from me
rises up and leaves me with my raging nerves.
I try to listen in as she speaks to a man, his voice almost sounding like
Johnny, but I don’t dare glance back, not wanting to get caught listening in.
 But all I hear is a heavy sigh, and the sound of heels approaching.
“I’m going to be honest with you, Rose. I don’t think it’s going to be a
great fit. However, we have another opening. It’s an easy job, you only need
to answer the phone. Nothing more.”
My lips thin, and I wait as she writes something down on a simple piece
of paper.
“You can start tomorrow, top floor. You will be the only one working
there. There might not be much to do, but it is something right?” She smiles
at me, as if she knows all my secrets: my desperation for this job, this need
for money and an escape.
“I’ll take it.”
The smile doesn’t change, and she hands me the note.
“The pay is somewhat similar,” she says kindly, and I nod, reminding
myself I’m not picky.
She gestures to the door without a good luck or goodbye, and I thank her
for her time, ignoring her change of attitude.
I am the last one leaving; all the other women have disappeared, and the
only person who awaits me by the elevator is Johnny.
“Did you get it?” A playful glint fills his eyes while mine narrows.
“Sort of,” I say carefully, pressing the elevator button, the one he hadn’t
touched yet. He was waiting for me, it seems.
“See you tomorrow at lunch, Rose.”
“What…” My voice fades as I realize he isn’t standing beside me
anymore. Where the hell did he go?
Shaking my head, I step into the elevator with a new hope. My new life
starts tomorrow.
 I walk through the same hall as I initially entered, but the beauty that this
place first held has shifted, and the change of air around me makes me
shiver. Goosebumps rise on my skin, and I can’t stop the small bit of fear
that crawls inside me.
I attempt to shake it away as I make my way to the car, trying to focus on
what is waiting at home for me.
The engine of my old beetle rumbles alive, and I let my thoughts wander
further as I drive off. Just this, driving around, will make it worth it. It will
give me a sense of freedom, sense of control.
I’ll focus on the positive and stop looking for the monsters. The monsters
that don’t even exist.
Maybe I should stop reading dark romance books. Perhaps it’s time for
something lighter. I snort at the thought; I could never fully enjoy a lighter,
fluffy romance. I need to feel something more because otherwise, I fear I
won’t feel anything at all.
Johnny means well, and there was nothing wrong with the questions I was
asked. They were simply thorough. They just really wanted to know my
blood type in case I got in an accident and they needed to get me to the
hospital. That is the only reason I can come up with, because the other one,
the one that leans to the monster bit again, makes me sound crazy.
But we’re all a little crazy, right?
That is at least what my friends call me for staying with my husband. I
don’t see it as crazy, and even though we hit a rough patch and haven’t
seemed to come out of it, that doesn’t mean he’s a bad father.
Our little girl is everything for him, and that alone is enough for me.
Enough for me to accept his flaws and what he does when he thinks I don’t
notice.
 I’m almost home when my phone buzzes next to me. I grab it without
peeling my eyes from the road. What if it’s about my little girl?
An unknown number and the start of the message makes my brows pinch.
UNKNOWN: See you tomorrow, sweet Rose.
Johnny, it must be Johnny. But how did he get my number? Is it okay that
he has my number? I swallow the lump in the back of my throat and lock
my phone.
My phone beeps again, and another message follows.
UNKNOWN: You really should pay more attention to the road.
Fear prickles my scalp, and my eyes scan my surroundings. Is he
watching me?
A red light forces me to stop, and I quickly type a response, needing this
to feel a little less strange.
ME: I know, right? See you tomorrow, Johnny.
He doesn’t respond, and there is no indicator that says he’s even seen the
message.
A honk behind me makes me jump, and I hurriedly resume my way home.
I have no idea why he texted me, but I push away the thought of him
watching me. He was probably in one of the cars around me; I just didn’t
notice him.
Relief pours through me as my thoughts make me believe that is the case.
It takes just ten more minutes to get home, and I haven’t received another
text from Johnny. Let’s hope there isn’t one coming later tonight.
I am almost sure he doesn’t live on this side of the town. Almost.
As I pull up at my house, I take a deep breath. The grass in the front yard
needs trimming, the porch has seen better days, the white paint flacking off,
but the one thing I love about this house, is the big tree in front of our little
house.
Giving us shade on hot summer days, providing the perfect spot for a
picnic with my daughter.
With a sigh, I get out of the car and flinch slightly as my phone buzzes
again.
I don’t dare to take a peek, a tremor rakes down my spine and my breath
quickens.
My stomach tightens and that same sense as before surfaces. The feeling
of someone watching me rises again. My phone buzzes once more, and I
scold myself for being scared of a single text.
UNKNOWN: Will your thorns scar me, or have they been clipped?
I scoff as I read. What kind of weird rose joke is that? But the second text
crosses a line, one I know would make it harder for me to work with him.
UNKNOWN: I can’t wait to find out if you will hurt me when I touch
you.
I type faster than my thoughts can pick up, and I realize I’m only fueling
the dirty bastard he is.
ME: Trust me, I bite.
I regret my message instantly, but there is no time to delete it as he types
back.
UNKNOWN: Looking forward to it.
Remaining frozen at the front door, reading over the messages again and
again, all I see is that I’m fucked. I swallow the lump in my throat upon
seeing there is no picture beside his number. Even after adding it to my
phone, nothing changes.
 I’d assumed it was Johnny, but something is nagging at me, scratching
inside me, warning me this might not be the man I met today.
This might be someone else entirely.
Loud laughter from inside the house startles me from my thoughts. I
groan as I wonder why my sister is here. I don’t have the greatest bond with
my family; I never did. However, my sister and I are a special case.
I would rather not have her in my life at all. I know it would bring a lot
less stress, but she always acts as if my husband is her best and only friend.
I know I shouldn’t let my mind wander too far about that since she’s still
my sister and wouldn’t cross that line, right? But I can’t help it. Not when I
walk inside and see them laughing and chatting away. They don’t even
notice me standing in the doorway as my eyes are fixed on them.
A silly kid show is on as they sit on the couch, a little too close to each
other. Her hand brushes over his shoulder, and he leans into her touch.
Disgust makes bile rise in my throat, and my heart pounds, but I push it
away.
I have my plan, my escape.
I will no longer be a captive of this life. I deserve to be happy and get
everything I want. Today only showed that I can have it.
“Oh, hi sis!” Amy squeals as she peels her hand away.
We look so much alike, both the same brown hair, only hers has some
small highlights here and there. Both having some curve, mine slightly
more prominent. But from the inside, our souls, we couldn’t be more
different.
My husband, Greg, rests back slightly, pretending they weren’t in each
other’s space two seconds ago. His dirty brown hair slightly messy as if
someone fingers tugged a bit too hard.
 “Hi, Amy. Didn’t know you were coming.” I force a smile and cross the
distance between us.
From the outside world, we seem thick as thieves, but Greg knows better.
He knows the struggles I’ve had with her. The easy lies she can toss your
way and her manipulative tendencies. And still, he chose to get closer to her
while I, his wife, wanted distance.
My phone buzzes in my pocket, and I stiffen. Amy goes on and on about
her day, and it seems she got here just as I left for the job interview.
I zone out as I nod and smile, slowly taking my phone out to see the
message Johnny, or whoever this is, has sent me.
UNKNOWN: Beautiful Rose has been clipped. No thorns left to leave a
scar. Such a shame.
I have no idea how he does it, how he sees what is going on here. As I
glance at the window, I see nothing—nothing other than the darkness of the
night and the lanterns that light the street. Not a man to be seen, but he’s
there.
He is watching.
He is taunting me, waiting.
His words hurt me somehow, pressing on that sore spot inside me. I know
I’m not the same as I was, I know I’m not the person I wanted to be. But I
will get there. I will take back what is mine.

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 Chapter Three

T
he alarm on my phone forces me awake, and I shift in my bed. The
flimsy cotton sheet clings to my body as the morning sunlight filters
through gauzy curtains. The soft dove-gray painted walls, the vintage
dresser and the framed photographs on the walls, all show this peaceful life,
but it’s all fake.
The reading nook that is nestled by the window, creating a cozy corner for
me to escape and get sucked into the worlds my dark romance books create
used to be enough. But now as Greg stays home, and our fights becoming
worse, it isn’t.
I crawl out of the warm bed as my husband snores away, and I tiptoe
through the room, quickly grabbing the clothes I put on my reading chair
and get out.
I want to be extra early on my first day, just in case traffic is a bitch or
something else happens that might make me late.
I’m quick putting on my makeup and tying my hair in a high ponytail. A
tight-fitted black dress accentuates my curves, and I finish the look with
some heels. I still have to go shopping. Maybe I can order something online
during my break.
Just before I leave, I sneak into my little girl’s room.
Fairy lights twinkle around her iron bedframe. Plush stuffed animals
sprawled across a hot pink rug and an explosion of art supplies clustered on
her small table under the winder, covered in doodles. The air filled with the
scent of paint and dreams.
She is curled up in her pink blanket, her fluffy bunny clutched in her
arms. As her long dark brown hair drapes over her pillow.
I sit beside her and rake my fingers through her hair, revealing her
features. Her small button nose, her full lips and thick eyebrows.
Carefully, I bend closer and plant a kiss on the top of her head. “Love you,
baby. See you tonight.”
She stirs slightly, but her eyes remain closed.
I hate to leave her, but I have to if we want a better life. With one last
touch, I walk downstairs and grab everything I need. My phone buzzes, and
I freeze.
Should I take a look? Or should I ignore it?
The questions linger as I step into the hallway and I open the front door.
My breath catches in my throat when I spot a black rose lying on the porch.
The thorns are clipped, nothing to harm me if I touch it.
My phone buzzes again, and I gulp. Fear crawls beneath my skin, and I
take it out of my bag.
The screen lights up, displaying a text.
UNKNOWN: Let’s see how hard you bite.
My brows pinch until I remember what I said to him. But I wonder what
he means by it. Is he going to test me?
 I take the rose and carefully smell it. I’d expected it to smell like a blend
of roses, with a touch of amber and musk. However, it carries the scent of
burning wood and ash. But the rose doesn’t look burned, making me
wonder why it smells like that. Taking my phone, I type a single word.
ME: Fire?
My curiosity is taking over, pushing the fear from my body as I slowly
walk to the car. The morning sun prickling my eyes as a spring breeze
teases my skin. It doesn’t take long to receive a text back.
UNKNOWN: I would love to see you burn.
These words should frighten me, but I don’t think he meant it literally. I
hope.
I have no response for him and toss my stuff in the backseat, the flower
next to it, before making my way to work.
There isn’t a single text the rest of the morning, and I haven’t seen Johnny
yet. They weren’t joking when they said this job would differ somewhat
from what I applied for. The pay is almost the same but the job, well, I
don’t think it can be seen as a job.
A job where I sit behind my desk on an empty floor. The top floor. Alone.
Guarding a silent phone.
Soft music plays in the background, and the open floorplan shows how
many could work here. There is only one space shielded from the rest.
Glass walls form a large office beyond the others, and the desk within is a
very different style than the rest of the floor. The mahogany wood fixture,
the deep red chair behind it, and the darkness it holds is mesmerizing.
However, it doesn’t seem someone sits there very often.
There are two doors behind the desk, one for the private toilet and the
other one probably for the inventory of his files. The boss, I suppose. A
smile creeps on my lips as I let my imagination run free. The office screams
wealthy man; there isn’t a feminine touch present to be seen.
The high table between the two thick chairs on the right holds what I can
only presume is very expensive whisky.
I wander around the floor with nothing to do, never daring to step into the
office behind glass. There isn’t anything that shows me who works here. It
almost seems nobody is working here. This place is spotless, with not a
single speck of dust present. Or even a single piece of paper.
“Do you like your job?” Johnny’s voice makes me jump, and I quickly
turn to meet his piercing gaze. He leans against my desk, his arms crossed
as a playful smile tugs on his lips. His eyes drifting over my dress, taking it
all in.
“No shame, I see,” I joke, hoping he will get the hint.
“Definitely not,” he agrees, his voice almost predatory.
My gaze narrows, and I cross my arms, mimicking him. But it seems I
shouldn’t have as his gaze snaps up, lingering on my breasts and his brows
arch.
“Johnny!” I warn, and he inches back, peeling his stare from my chest and
finally meeting my eyes again.
“I didn’t touch you,” he retorts, and my mind brings me back to the texts.
“You know what will happen if you do.”
“It can go two ways,” he says, resting against the desk behind him. “You
will like it, urging me to touch you somewhere else.” He licks his lips, the
playfulness vibrating from him. “Or you will hit me. I’m still undecided
about which it’ll be.”
He pushes himself of my desk and stalks closer. He stops in front of me
and bends slightly done, his lips inches from my ear. “But I truly hope it
will be the first, Rose.”
I shove him back. “I think it will be the second.” A smile tilts on my lips,
realizing he’s not my mystery guy. But the realization quickly prompts my
smile to fall again. Who is texting me? I need to be sure, so I ask, “Have
you been texting me?”
His brows knit briefly, the playfulness from earlier vanishing, and he
shakes his head. “Do you want me to?” he says, and that stupid grin is back
tenfold.
There is no possible way to have a serious conversation with this man.
His flirty grin, those eyes that shamelessly rake over me.
Perhaps it’s all an act; maybe he just likes to toy with me. The thought
makes me take a step closer.
“Do you want me to text you?” I ask as my finger brushes over his
shoulder.
His grin widens, his eyes change, the red undertone expanding, and it
makes me wonder if I’m imagining it. My phone buzzes again and again.
“It seems you already have someone to text with,” he whispers.
The texting is relentless, and I take a breath as I step back, slipping my
phone out and seeing text after text pop up.
UNKNOWN: Don’t touch him.
I scroll further, reading everything the stranger sends.
UNKNOWN: Rose, don’t touch him.
Whoever it is has to be here; he is still watching me. But there is no one
else on this floor. At least, no one I’ve seen.
UNKNOWN: You’re not his.
I know I shouldn’t have; I was only joking. But that shouldn’t matter to
him.
 UNKNOWN: Stop, Rose!
He doesn’t decide what I can and cannot do! Anger simmers to the
surface with every text that follows.
UNKNOWN: Don’t test me.
UNKNOWN: You’re mine.
How can he even think that? I don’t even know this person!
UNKNOWN: You will regret this.
My scalp prickles, my breathing shallows as my ribs tighten. Panic rises
as I read over the last text again.
The ding of the elevator makes Johnny stiffen and he ushers me to the
desk.
“Eyes down,” he warns.

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 Chapter Four

I
have no idea what’s going on as I pretend to type something on my
computer. But not before I notice the change in Johnny. His hands
tremble slightly as he rakes his fingers through his hair, the playfulness in
his eyes is nowhere to be found.
The sound of heels coming closer prompts me to stop typing, and I listen
closely to what Johnny says.
“Esmeralda.”
I’d expected his voice to carry more respect, but the undertone, that slight
snap in that one name, makes goosebumps rise on my skin.
A smooth feminine voice replies, “Johnny, is he here?”
Is who here?
I peel my eyes away from my blank screen and tilt my head, my curiosity
getting the better of me.
God damn, she is absolutely stunning.
Long, toned legs, red hair perfectly curled and eyes so light green it
almost looks unreal.
 Her eyes snap to mine, and disgust roams through her icy glare. Wait? Did
I do something wrong?
Their voices drop to a mere whisper, and I sigh, unable to make anything
else out. But their postures tell me enough. Johnny jaw ticks as he towers
over her, trying to get her to leave. She isn’t impressed by him, keeping her
chin up, daring him to do more, but she does edge back to the elevator.
It takes another ten minutes before Johnny finally returns. His hair is a
mess and the heavy sigh that escapes him makes me laugh.
“Your girlfriend?” I ask, raising a brow.
His gaze narrows at me. “Not mine, not anyone’s, but she is something—”
he pauses, stopping himself. “Never mind. She isn’t allowed up here and
definitely isn’t allowed to use that elevator.”
Right, the elevator. I roll my eyes as I shake my head. There are three,
and I don’t know exactly why, but no one is allowed to use the middle one.
I think it’s the one for the boss, but it’s a bit odd that he needs an entire
elevator for himself seeing as he isn’t around.
“You should be careful, with—” he pauses again. His lips press against
into a thin line as he glances towards where Esmerelda disappeared.
Should I be careful with her or in general? But about what? She might
have given me a death glare, but I can stand my own. And why would she
even be angry at me? I’m only doing my job up here. A job that actually
means doing absolutely nothing.
Oh wait, that’s not true. I have to guard this phone, the one that never
rings.
Johnny’s laughter stops my trail of thought and I wait for him to explain
why he’s suddenly laughing.
 “Come on, let’s get something to eat.” He holds out his hand, but I
hesitate.
I didn’t know the consequences of touching him earlier. Am I ready to test
my stalker again?
The corner of my lip curves as I place my hand in his, letting him pull me
to my feet. He smiles back at me and gestures to the elevators. Meanwhile, I
wait for the buzz of my phone, but it never comes. Maybe my mystery
stalker has had enough for today and decided to go home.
The scent of fresh coffee lingers my way as we step out of the elevator
into the lobby. But there is another smell, one that makes my stomach
rumble and my pace quicken. Freshly baked croissants. My mouth waters as
Johnny leads me further, ordering for both of us as I shift on my feet.
“Here you go,” he says, handing me a brown bag filled with different
croissants.
I chuckle quietly as I open the bag, inhaling the delicious scent.
“I don’t know which one you liked,” he starts as he resumes his way
outside. “So, I got you everything.”
I won’t complain, definitely not as I take my first bite of the chocolate
croissant.
“You can do this every day.” I smile, following him closely until we stand
before the building, basking in the spring sun.
He laughs and inches closer. “Noted.”
I swat him back and let Johnny do most of the talking during our break; it
surprises me how he seems to be on his best behavior. There are a few
comments that he definitely shouldn’t say, but nothing that goes truly too
far. At least, not for him. Or HR.
 With the short time we spend together, I can see the humor of his flirty
ways and it makes me forget about the problems I carry with me.
And even now, as the hairs on my neck raise and my stomach tightens,
warning me of the one that lurks in the distance, I focus on the light. The
possible friend Johnny seems to be.
A black rose awaits me on my desk when we return. Johnny’s steps falter,
but there is no shock, no fear. More a look of sorrow. As if the rose he sees
is a mark, a tell of what’s to come. And it isn’t a good one.
“What does it mean?” I ask as I take the rose. The familiar scent of
burning wood and ash overpowers everything else. The smell is sharper
than the one of this morning, and I wonder about the meaning of it.
“I think you have an admirer.” He tries to play it cool, pretending he
knows nothing, but I already see it. See how he inches back, how that
playful smile isn’t real anymore. The mischief that usually glints in his
gaze, fading.
“You’re a terrible liar.” I laugh and set the rose down before taking my
seat to guard the quiet phone again.
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” His voice is empty, not an
emotion attached to it. He edges further back, putting some distance
between us. He won’t look at me, not really as it feels like he’s staring at
my forehead. Does he know something I don’t?
“Here, you have it.” I quickly grab the rose and toss it his way. He jumps
back faster than my eyes can follow, and the rose falls to the ground.
“Johnny?”
His eyes never leave the rose, and a phone suddenly buzzes. It isn’t mine
but his. His hand is shaky as he reaches for his back pocket. With a gulp, he
flips open the device.
 “I didn’t do it.” His words are a mere mumble but loud enough for me to
hear.
I cautiously step around my desk, but Johnny immediately treads back.
“I have to go,” he says without meeting my gaze, turning on his heel. He’s
gone before I can stop him, leaving me alone on this floor with the black
rose at my feet.
The remainder of the day is done in complete silence. I have organized
my desk more times than I can count and managed to order some new
clothes for work.
Johnny never returned; no other texts came, and now as the sun is hiding
behind the building and my hand rummages through my bag in search for
my keys. I can hear them, but they escape my touch.
My steps slow as I walk to my car. A curse leaves me; more words follow
until I feel it. The same sense as before, the tightening of my stomach, the
chill that rakes through my spine.
The hairs on the back of my neck stand on end. All in warning of a
predator lurking in the shadows, waiting to pounce on their prey.
My finger finally hooks on the keys in my bag, and I quicken my pace.
Eager to get in my black beat-down beetle, knowing it will only give me a
false sense of safety. The same safety every woman of man in the horror
movie has, just before they are grabbed.
If this hunter truly wants me, he will get me.
The beep of the car unlocking spikes my nerves, and I hurry inside,
locking the door behind me before I finally breathe again. With my hand on
my chest, I let out a nervous laugh. Blaming myself for letting these stupid
texts get to me. Shaking my head, I turn the key in the ignition, and the car
hums to life.
 I glance in the rearview mirror, and my heart stops. A man is watching me
from a distance, his body shielded in shadow, and I fear that if I blink or
look away, he’ll come closer.
My throat dries, and my heart almost explodes when he moves.
He holds my gaze and steps back until darkness consumes him, while I sit
frozen in panic and utter fear, unable to drive away.

OceanofPDF.com
 Chapter Five

“I
’m home,” I shout as I step through the door, waiting in the dimply
lit hallway for my little girl to run up to me, but when she doesn’t,
the fear I had lost a second ago crawls back.
I run through the house, pushing back the horrific thoughts that try to
break me. What if my shadow came here? Grabbed Lucy? Or he took her,
took her away from me…
And then, I find her. Sleeping peacefully on the couch in the living room
wearing her pajama’s.
Alone.
Shaking my head, I edge closer and lift her in my arms. She stirs, her eyes
slowly fluttering open, and she snuggles closer with a smile on her lips.
“Hi, Momma.” Her voice is soft and sweet.
My guilt rises, hating that I spend less time with her than I used to. But I
have to remember that I do this for a reason, for a better life. A life without
Greg.
 “I missed you, baby,” I whisper, carrying her up the stairs as I wonder
where Greg is.
He wouldn’t leave her alone, right?
“Where is Daddy?” I ask as I get to her room. The fairy lights turned off,
and her painting supplies are scattered around the room. Stepping over the
mess, I put her in bed, tucking her in under her pink blanket.
“Aunty came by, and we watched a movie—” a yawn forces her words to
a stop, enough for me to hear the front door closing.
There goes Aunty. Avoiding me, for some reason.
Pressing my lips on her forehead, I murmur, “I love you, sweetie.”
“I love you too, Mommy.” As she curls around her bunny, her eyes slowly
close.
I remain with her, watching her breathing change as she falls in a deeper
sleep. I’m stalling, dreading to go downstairs, especially when I hear the
clatter of plates.
He’s been drinking. Again.
Maybe I should find someone else to watch my little girl. How can I truly
trust him if he’s drinking? Or perhaps it was only one beer.
My lips curl into a smile, knowing all too well he doesn’t need much to
become the ass that waits beneath the surface.
Peeling myself from my happy bubble, I face what awaits me. I don’t
make a sound as I leave Lucy’s room, and shut the door behind me. With a
shaky breath I go downstairs.
The kitchen is a mess, and so is the rest of the house. I sigh; he isn’t going
to fix that. He expects me to do it, not caring that I worked all day and all
he had to do was take our daughter to school and pick her up.
“You didn’t make dinner,” he mumbles with a slur from the living room.
 Right, I forgot that dinner was on his long list of things to do. How stupid
of me.
“Well, you can make it. You know where everything is, right?” My words
come out snappy, and he stops.
His hand holds a cold beer midair, his lips ready to feel the glass, and now
it seems time has frozen. I immediately know I’ve pushed the wrong button.
I take my chances and sit beside him on the couch in the living room. The
perfume my sister wears wafts my way, and I swallow the lump in the back
of my throat.
It doesn’t matter. None of it does.
I only need six months, and then I’m gone.
Gone from this life, this nightmare that was once my dream.
Time resumes, and he drinks his beer without a word as he flips on the
television. My jaw clenches, and I rise to my feet.
“Maybe you should ask my sister to make you dinner next time she’s
here.”
It happens faster than I can blink. The beer bottle flies past me and
shatters against the wall.
Wrong button.
A dance that I feared once, but now I know what I can take. I know how
to keep my weakness shielded from him. His fingers intertwine with my
hair, and he tosses me back. My hip takes a blow on the coffee table.
Whimpers fight to escape me, but I bite through the pain. Pushing myself
from the table, I turn to meet his angered gaze. Fury storms in his brown
eyes, his chest heaving with every breath as his tousled hair falls forward.
I lift my chin, ready for his next move, because I know how much he likes
to see me scared, and I remember what he does when he sees it.
 He won’t stop. No, he only stops when he’s done punishing me. Or
when…
“Mommy, what is that noise?”
This isn’t something that happened from the start. However, after the first
time, hurting me seems to become easier for him.
I know what my wishes are, what I want in a relationship. And this isn’t
it.
It feels like he does care when he hurts me, because why else harm me? If
you truly didn’t care about me, you wouldn’t be mad at me. You would just
stop caring at all.
“Sorry, honey, Mommy tripped and fell.” I walk toward her as she glares
at me from the stairs and crouch down, ignoring the sting on my skin
around my hip.
“Daddy?” she asks, unsure of my answer. She is too smart for her age.
“You know how clumsy mommy can be.” He laughs as if it’s all nothing.
And still, his hand brushes over my lower back and regret edges on his
features.
He still cares, he still loves in his way.
I believe he will never harm our girl, at least not as he hurts me. He might
not be fully present when he’s with her, but he will never touch her. If he
ever tries it, even raises his hands once, I will fucking kill him.
I think he knows that. He knows that even though I accept so much from
him, I still have my limits.
Limits, boundaries he shouldn’t cross if he would like to keep his balls.
I might not respond, I won’t fight. But I will remember. I will keep count
of all the shit he puts me through.
And I know this marriage is past saving.
 We don’t speak to each other the rest of the night, and I should take that as
a relief. But as I see him text away on his phone with a shy smile on his
lips, disgust roams through me.
I was never enough for him, I know that. He never wanted me, he wanted
an easy fuck, and he got that. He never wanted me to get pregnant and be
stuck.
He pretended, just like I pretend now.
The only difference between us is that he was tired of faking and tossed
away his mask, showing the monster beneath, while I still pretend.
I hate that I do, but the throbbing around my hip reminds me why I
should.
If I bite back, snark back, I pay for it.
I believe the only reason I’m not covered in bruises is because I take so
much, accept so much.
So now, as I lay curled up in bed, ignoring him snoring beside me, I can’t
help but feel something stir within as my phone buzzes on my nightstand.
UNKNOWN: Your punishment is coming.
I don’t tell this mysterious stranger about what Greg did. Why should I?
But it seems unfair that he wants to punish me for touching Johnny.
However, what else can I expect from a creep who lurks in the shadows?
ME: Or, you could leave me alone?
Saying those words allows me a sense of freedom. I can show all I want,
be whoever I want with these texts. I can say whatever and won’t get a beer
bottle thrown my way.
My mind is broken if I believe that having a stalker, talking to him, is
freedom…
UNKNOWN: You shouldn’t lie to me, Rose.
 ME: How am I lying?
UNKNOWN: You can’t wait to find out what I have in store for you.
You are going to crave it.
ME: I don’t really see that happening.
UNKNOWN: Just wait. One day, you will beg me to come and touch
you.
Rationally, I know I should call the cops or do something other than
responding.
I’m annoyed at him and myself, but not truly. I hate that this awakes
something inside me. Yes, I feel fear. I’m scared, but it is so different from
the usual fear I have.
Maybe that will change once he hurts me.
Men always hurt me.
I toss the phone on my nightstand, not having an answer for the stranger’s
taunts. Closing my eyes, I hope the throbbing around my hip finally abates
when sleep takes me.

OceanofPDF.com
 Chapter Six

I
squirm in my desk chair more than I should. My hip took a harder hit
than I initially thought. I know Greg would never touch our girl, but I
couldn’t shake this sense of unease and decided to bring her to school this
morning. Yes, I was a little late for work, but seeing as I’m alone on this
floor, no one seemed to notice.
Still, I can’t erase the look on the teacher’s face when I couldn’t control
the whimper that escaped me when my little girl hugged me tightly, her
arms wrapped around my hips, pressing on the fresh bruise.
I shouldn’t complain. There is nothing I can do about it now. Nothing
other than power through and reach my goal. The only goal I have for my
daughter and I. Freedom and safety.
Before it gets worse.
“Someone was late this morning.” Johnny’s sudden words make me flinch
as he stands beside me.
“Fuck, Johnny. Stop sneaking up on me!”
 He tilts his head with a mischievous grin, and I hate that he notices I was
late.
Crossing my arms, I bite back, “I had to bring my daughter to school.”
His features soften and he grabs a chair from another desk. “And why do
you keep squirming in your seat?” His gaze narrows, as if he is trying to
read my mind.
“Do you really want to know?” I tease back, and he immediately leans
back, but not before his grin comes back tenfold.
“I knew you were a dirty—”
“Johnny!” I shout, stopping his overstepping words.
He lifts his hands up innocently. “Fine, I’ll behave.”
Only because of my stalker, though. He changed after he saw that rose.
He created this distance between us, distance I don’t mind. He remains
flirtatious in a funny way, but in the beginning, I believed he would actually
try something.
I wonder…
Will I fight if someone touches me without my consent? Or give up like I
do with everything in my life?
“Rose?”
I hum, coming back to reality. “What?”
He holds my gaze, and I suddenly feel bare.
“I have some paperwork you need to check. About your pay and all.”
He hands me some documents, and I muster a smile. I already went over
this when I was hired, but it won’t hurt to check again.
As I go over the files, Johnny leaves without a goodbye.
I know the request I made about my paycheck was a little weird. I needed
them to deposit a cut of my pay in a different account, otherwise I can’t
save up any money. Greg’s spending habits have only increased since he
began staying home, and my sister hanging out so much doesn’t help.
They tell me it’s because of his knee and that she takes him to his
psychical therapist, so I can’t truly argue about it. And even if I do, I won’t
win.
I never win. At least, not yet.
My brows crease as I notice the pay is different from last time, slightly
lower.
I go over it again and wonder why they changed it. Maybe they noticed I
wasn’t doing anything up here, since they aren’t giving me much to do. Just
guarding this silent phone.
Still, I can’t complain, and I sign anyway. I’ll take whatever they give me.
I can’t afford to find another job. I think I got lucky with this one, even
though it’s somewhat boring. They didn’t ask any further when I wanted a
split pay.
I place all the documents on the corner of my desk and get something to
drink in the office kitchen.
It’s almost as big as my living room at home. All the best appliances, and
all seem brand-new. I make myself a hot chocolate and lean against the
counter. My lips curve into a smile as I take a sip. I know it’s weird,
drinking hot chocolate in the spring, but I can’t stand coffee, and I’ve never
been much of a tea drinker.
With my mug still half-full, I stroll back to my chair, letting my fingers
brush over the empty desks around me. Not a speck of dust to be found.
My smile refuses to falter, not even when I see the files missing from
where I’d just placed them minutes before. It should freak me out, but with
how Johnny can sneak around, it doesn’t even surprise me anymore.
 I have enough to fear in this life. I don’t have the energy to worry about
weird shit like this. But I wonder, who do I fear more, my husband or my
shadow? Because I can feel my lurker everywhere. Maybe it’s my mind
playing tricks, or maybe he is really there.

As I walk through the grocery store on my lunch break, hearing the soft
music in the background. The chatter of some employees on their break, I
know he’s here.
My breath quivers as I grab some bread for my lunch, hearing heavy
footsteps approaching. I shouldn’t look, but as I straighten and glance over
my shoulder, he stands behind me. Only a few feet between us.
I turn slowly, my fingers digging into the freshly baked white loaf. I take
him in, his dark trousers, his oversized hoodie, shielding his face. But there
is more.
He tilts his head slightly, revealing what’s underneath.
Swallowing thickly, as I see the pitch-black mask covering his eyes and
nose.
Still, that isn’t what scares me. Or maybe even intrigues me.
The horns that curve up makes my spine shudder.
Is he the devil, the master of all evil? Or a servant of darkness? Perhaps
he is both and for some reason, he has his sights set on me.
I don’t know what I have done, how I lured him closer, but I wish I could
make him disappear. I wish I could go back to only fearing my husband.
No one is around, no one is here to help me, but could I even scream?
Because somehow, I don’t.
 He shakes his head, pressing his fingers on his lips and I silently nod.
My eyes widen as he stalks closer, and I inch back until I can’t go any
further. His doesn’t stop, not until his body touches mine.
His lose sweater doesn’t shield his muscles underneath as they press into
me.
“A scared little mouse,” he whispers.
“I’m not scared,” I snap back, my eyes narrowing as I lean closer, pushing
him back. Even though he doesn’t move.
He smiles. “Liar.” He snaps his teeth at me, and I flinch. He chuckles
darkly and moves back, leaving me breathless and trembling with a
destroyed lunch in my hand.
Perhaps I should tell Greg, ask him for help. But I’m not sure how much
assistance he could offer, because I can sense it in my bones that he is no
match for this monster.
And still, I have to tell him, hoping he can take some of this fear away.
Am I stupid for putting faith in my husband? I don’t know, I really don’t.
Perhaps I have too much faith, perhaps I’m naïve.
Time will tell me what this shadow will do to me. If it is all games or
something more. If he’s merely playing with his food before the kill.
Death should scare me, because I don’t want to leave my little girl with
Greg. Even if I don’t deserve more, she does.
She deserves the world.
Her life is worth so much more than mine, and I will do everything in my
power to make her happy and give her all that she needs.
With her on my mind, the unease fades and I grab another loaf. Ready to
pay and head outside, back to work. I try to pick up my pace, but as I still
feel him near, I’m alert.
 After I have payed for my lunch and take my route back to the office, I
see him again. Standing across the street. His eyes on me as cars rush
between us.
Tilting my head up, I ignore and push through. Believing I have mastered
the act of pretending, and so I do.
I pretend he’s not following me to the office building two streets over.
I pretend I don’t hear him coming closer.
I pretend the chill that runs through me doesn’t exist.
And it works, my body and soul relaxing as my shadow disappears in the
distance and the office building comes into sight.
The corner of my lip lifts. Relief moves through me, knowing I can get
through this.
They say that what you give attention grows, so maybe if I just ignore my
shadow, he will get bored and disappear.
Hopefully, for good.

OceanofPDF.com
 Chapter Seven

S
ometimes we put trust in someone out of habit. Or maybe I’m
searching for something that doesn’t exist.
Not anymore.
So, yes, perhaps I’m stupid for sitting on my living room couch beside
Greg, needing his help.
“Someone has been watching me,” I whisper as if my shadow can hear
me. I take my phone, pulling up the texts.
Greg laughs, shaking his head. “Who in the world would want to stalk
you?”
“Greg, please, I’m being serious here.”
Tears spring my eyes as he continues to laugh. What was I expecting?
That he would finally step up and be a man?
“Okay, okay, show me.” With his hand reaching for the phone, I wonder if
I even should. I don’t know what the punishment is for letting Johnny touch
me, and maybe he will get angry that I showed my husband.
 But it’s too late now. My moment of doubt comes too late as Greg takes
my phone and skims through the messages.
His cheeks flush, his jaw ticks, anger bubbles to the surface, and for a
brief moment, I’m grateful for showing him. Truly believing he could help
me, be the man I want him to be.
Very brief.
Without warning, my phone crashes against the wall. I’m too slow; he
shoots to his feet, and my head whips the other way as his fist connects with
my jaw. I stumble to the floor, the taste of blood filling my mouth.
“What kind of sick game is this!” He towers over me as I lay there on the
ground, whimpering as I flex my jaw. “Are you fucking him?”
How the hell did he get that idea?
I shake my head, tears brimming my eyes. “No, I’m not the one cheating
here.”
I shouldn’t have said that. I don’t even know for sure if it’s true. But I
think we all know, right? If our partner, our other half, is falling for another.
They don’t act the same, they hide. I can’t truly explain it; it’s more like a
gut feeling.
As if your soul is telling you something. Warning you that something is
happening, something that would hurt you to your core.
Or you don’t realize. You don’t feel it when your spouse is pretending to
be good, telling you over and over again how much he loves you, how
much he wants to spend every second of every day with you. Then you
never see it coming, as you find the silent chat in his phone, the deleted
texts.
You confront him, and you’re told you’re seeing things that aren’t there,
that you made it up in your mind.
 However, once this happens, once your soul and senses have been stressed
to watch him carefully, you will see, and you will find what you need. All
that was hidden.
All the flirtatious moments about wanting to lay in each other’s beds,
stripping each other bare.
And then you have your proof, and you can confront him to the fullest,
leaving him no escape.
There are two ways it ends. Either he feels sorry and cries about not
wanting to lose you, or there is nothing left to save, and you split up.
I know it all; I realized what I had to do when I saw the signs. However, I
looked the other way, didn’t want to believe what was right in front of me
and continued to endure this.
These moments of rage he throws at me.
First, I thought it was because of stress when our girl was sick, and then I
blamed it on our finances putting a strain on him, but sometimes I wonder
what my next excuse will be.
Because I don’t fight back. I don’t hit him, as if I believe I should get that
punishment somehow.
I know he’s not going to change; I know we will never be what we once
were, and maybe that is the problem.
Perhaps I’m not ready to be free, clinging onto our past selves. Not
wanting others to be right when they told me I shouldn’t marry him. That I
should have given up my daughter for adoption. That I was too young for
this life.
I’d heard it all. I let them all speak those hurtful comments. Because that
is who I am.
I just accept.
 I take these hits as a punishment, ones I believe I deserve for being weak,
while I hope that someday, I’m deserving of something better.
But that’s not today.
Today is the day my face will carry the bruises, ones I might not be able
to hide. Today is the day Greg will let everything go and not hold back. He
kicks me in my stomach, again and again, until I’m a heaving mess,
struggling to stay awake as my vision darkens.
Maybe this is it. Perhaps this is my end. Lying bloody on the floor,
breathing my last breath until there is nothing.
Images of my little girl, smiling, running in the garden as I chase her
come to mind, reminding me why I haven’t stopped yet. Why I haven’t
truly given up.
And then I hear her. The fast paced footsteps coming down the stairs, her
soft voice as she stops at the bottom of the stairs, calling me.
“Mommy?”
Greg stops and leaves me as he takes her back upstairs—not wanting her
to see her mom lying in her own blood on the floor.
I turn onto my back, grunting, and stare at the ceiling.
I know the solution to this: I have to leave him.
Sometimes I wonder if he will let me leave, let me take our daughter away
from him.
I don’t want to think about that yet, knowing it will put my thoughts into a
spiraling mess and will make me believe I can never be free.
But I can, and I will.
Greg doesn’t come back down to check on me as time passes. I attempt to
get up, but my entire body feels like it has been run over by a car, and all I
can do is pretend nothing has happened.
 If my father could see me now, he would be so ashamed of me. He
brought me up to be a strong woman who doesn’t take shit from anyone.
And look at me now. He was a great man, and I was his world. He taught
me so much, helped me wherever he could, but it wasn’t enough in the end.
It didn’t stop me from falling for someone I shouldn’t. For getting
pregnant at sixteen.
His heart broke and shattered when I told him and my mom. He was so
disappointed in me. He told me to stay away from Greg, and I promised
him I would listen.
I haven’t seen them since. They wanted me to get an abortion, but I
couldn’t.
So I ran, and the moment I did, I became dead to them.
They haven’t responded to my calls or texts ever since. The only person
who still acknowledges me is my little sister. I would rather have it the
other way around, but I can’t choose that. It’s not up to me.
Even after Lucy was born, I took her to my parents. I took her home.
They pretended I wasn’t knocking on their door, screaming to let me in, and
all they did was lock me out.
Keeping me out of their house, out of their lives.
When Greg hit me the first time, when I was crying in the corner of our
bedroom, shaking in fear, I called my father.
I remember the relief I felt when he picked up, but that quickly changed
into wishing he never did. Even when he heard me whimpering, crying, he
still managed to break me down further.
“Dad, please don’t hang up.” My voice was a mere whimper, and all I
heard was a heavy sigh on the other end.
“You chose that life when you decided to keep the baby.”
 “Dad, he hurts me. I don’t feel safe.”
My mother’s voice echoed in the background, sneering at my dad to hang
up.
“You’ve made your bed, now lie in it,” he snapped before disconnecting
the call. It was the phrase he used on me and my sister every time we did
something bad and had to face the consequences.
I always hated when he said that, but I knew he was right, up until the last
time he used it. When I begged him to help me, he pushed me away,
making me think this was all my fault.
My fault for getting hit by my husband.

OceanofPDF.com
 Chapter Eight

S
leep won’t take me fully as I keep stirring under the covers. My face
throbs, and my throat tastes like dried blood as I keep thinking about
my dad and his last words to me.
I roll over and find the spot on the mattress next to me empty. Where is
Greg?
I grab my robe that lays on the floor beside my fluffy slippers and go in
search for him. Maybe he couldn’t sleep either.
It takes me two steps to notice. I freeze when I spot the same shadow as
earlier. Only this time, he stands beside my car. Leaning slightly against it
with crossed arms as he watches my bedroom window.
Does he see me?
A light highlights his face, but I can’t see shit without my glasses on.
The buzz of my phone makes me jump, and I quickly grab it. It’s a
wonder it still works. Well, sort of. There’s a big crack in the screen, and
I’ll have to get it fixed tomorrow.
UNKNOWN: Hello, Rose.
 A shiver runs down my spine, and I wrap my robe tighter around me.
Why is he here? Is this the punishment he was talking about?
ME: Don’t you ever sleep?
I instantly regret the text. I wanted to ignore him, that was the plan, but it
seems I can’t.
Not yet.
I blame it on the hour and lack of sleep, but I shouldn’t poke the bear.
He doesn’t respond, and I take a peek out the window again. Fear crawls
higher when I realize he isn’t there anymore. However, I don’t believe he
left. Would he come inside? Would he dare to do that? With my husband
here?
Oh wait, where is Greg again? I turn and cautiously move through the
house, quietly checking if Lucy is okay and alone.
Voices lure me downstairs, and I sigh when I recognize them. Greg and
Amy.
I don’t want to hear what they have to say, I truly don’t. Sometimes it’s
better not knowing. As I make my way back upstairs, the hairs on my neck
raise, warning me as they have before.
I make myself believe I will be safe under the covers, as if the monsters of
the darkness can’t touch me when I’m tucked into bed.
As I tiptoe into my bedroom, stepping over the creaking floorboard, I
sigh. Relief and security surround me as I toss away my fluffy slippers, let
the robe fall to the ground, and wrap myself in the cotton sheet when I
climb into bed.
I’m safe. I’m whole.
My body relaxes, and I turn on my side. My eyelids become heavy, my
breathing slowing as sleep beckons.
 As I listen to my own breathing, I hear another.
My eyes shoot open and I gasp.
The dark figure stands beside the bed with his head tilted to the side, his
face shielded from sight by the black mask he’s wearing. It is a different
one from this afternoon. But I don’t wonder if it’s the same person or why
he would even change it. I already know it’s him.
He presses his finger to his lips, and I don’t make a sound.
I don’t know what to do next and I remain frozen in fright under the
covers. My heart stammers in my chest, the sound ringing in my ears.
He reaches for me, his black leather glove brushing a stray hair from my
face, and the scent of burned roses invades my senses. My lips part, ready
for words to spill, but before a sound can leave me, his hand covers my
mouth, and he shakes his head.
This is the moment of my death. It has to be.
He will kill me and probably Greg. The thought of his demise doesn’t
bother me, but the thought of this man touching my daughter makes
something snap.
I rear back slightly and part my lips just enough to let my teeth sink into
his hand.
He laughs as he pulls back. “There are some thorns left, I see.” His voice
still doesn’t sound familiar, but it does something else. The harshness, the
undertone it possesses should make me fear him more, but it does the
opposite.
“Don’t you dare touch my daughter,” I grit out, keeping my eyes on him.
“I only have eyes for you, don’t worry.” He edges closer, and the bed dips
beneath him.
“Why?” I whisper as he forces me on my back.
 “You need to be punished for letting another touch you.”
“What about my husband?” Doesn’t he see the bruises, the one that hurts
me with every word I speak? Maybe I am hoping too much, that he would
take this punishment out on Greg. It’s stupid, even. This man isn’t a knight
or a prince.
He is a shadow, the devil. He isn’t here to save me, help me. He is here to
do as he pleases, because apparently, he can.
He says nothing, but the sound of a lighter igniting makes me flinch.
He grabs my hand and when the lighter moves under my palm, I struggle
in his grasp. Trying to break free, but it is in vain. A small flame forms
beneath my palm, the heat radiating over my skin becoming warmer by the
second.
He watches me closely as I continue to struggle. The heat finally sears my
skin, and I whimper in pain.
“Does it hurt, little mouse?” he laughs, bringing the flame closer.
Tears brim in my eyes and I clench them shut as I feel my skin burn.
“Stop, please,” I beg, but he presses the lighter against my hand, the heated
metal scorching into my flesh.
Gritting my teeth as all I want to do is scream. But then his touch fades,
and so does the pain.
Slowly, I open my eyes and find myself alone in the room once more.
I jump out of bed and run to the bathroom down the hall. I have no idea
where he went, but I don’t even want to think about it. I need cold water to
soothe my hand.
As I turn on the faucet, I hear that one floorboard creak in the bedroom.
However, I know it’s not him.
 “What are you doing up?” Greg asks, leaning against the doorframe while
I run the cold water over my hand.
“I couldn’t sleep. Why are you up?” I pretend everything is okay,
knowing this isn’t something he can help with. Not after the beating I got
when I showed him the texts.
“Same. I went to get something to drink.”
I force a smile on my lips, the warmth in my hand slowly fading.
Greg steps closer and turns off the water. “See you in bed.” He kisses my
cheek, and I don’t dare to breathe in, already smelling the liquor on his
breath.
I nod, hearing him go back into the bedroom and focus back on my hand.
There is nothing there, nothing other than a slight burn from the metal.
But it felt like so much more, as if my skin had burned clean off. How is
this possible? I must be losing it.
I brush my fingers over it, feeling the outline of the mark. This won’t
leave a scar; it isn’t too bad. I probably won’t even see it tomorrow. Perhaps
it was due to stress that I thought there was more damage.
As I walk back to the bedroom, I sense it again. Something warning me
deep inside, coiling in my stomach, spreading through my body that he is
here. I don’t dare to glance over my shoulder, as I try to pretend again.
My strides stop, and I listen closely. Moments later, deep breaths fan over
the nape of my neck. His body is inches away from mine, the warmth
brushing over my bare skin.
With his leather glove, he trails his fingers over my shoulder, and I shiver,
leaning away from his touch.
In all the panic, I’d forgotten to put my robe on, and now I pay the price
for that.
 I hear the lighter again, the wheel turning and that click at the end, again
and again. Goosebumps rise on my skin, and I hear him inhale deeply.
“Be good for me,” he hisses before the warmth of his body disappears.
With a shaky breath, I continue my way to the bedroom and crawl into
bed, hoping that I can sleep away everything that had happened today and
imagine it was all a sick dream.
The screen of my phone lights with a slight buzz on my nightstand. I
don’t want to grab it, but I can’t stop myself. I need to know what he says
now.
UNKNOWN: Bite harder next time.

OceanofPDF.com
 Chapter Nine

I
’m jumpy, and I hate it. I have never feared my husband like this, not
even in his worst moments because I know I will survive; I have to for
my little girl.
But now, with the one that looms in the shadows, I am fucking terrified.
He isn’t done with me, not even close, and I wonder how far he’ll go.
Would he kill me?
What is his end game here? I can’t find an answer, but I do know that this
isn’t going to end well. This isn’t ending in some weird romance like in the
books I read. It can’t be, because this is real.
Even now as I drive to work, I am scared when I glance in the mirror that
he may be there. I know he isn’t; I already checked the car twice, yet still, I
believe he lurks somewhere.
Maybe I should talk to Johnny again, because he must know more than he
led on. He knows the person who is freaking me out. He has to.
I should feel safe in my own house, but I don’t anymore.
 But I do believe he won’t hurt Lucy or Greg. Does that make me even
more crazy?
Probably.
I can’t figure out why I trust him not to hurt those I love. Why I feel that
this is a sick game for him, that he is building up to something. Testing me,
taunting me until I break.
I should stop trying to figure him out, because I never will. There is no
way I can understand what is going on in that stalker mind of his.
And this bastard is making me late. I sit in my car in front of the office
building. I have to go inside, but my legs won’t work with me, and my
hands won’t release the steering wheel. Even when I have scanned around
more times than I can count, I still remain in the same spot.
I thought—no, I hoped—I would leave my fear behind at home, that
things would be better here. But I was wrong.
My phone buzzes, and I clench my eyes shut. I don’t want to look, but I
have to. Peeling my fingers away from the steering wheel, I unlock my
phone and glance at the screen.
JOHNNY: Are you going to sit there all day?
I sigh in relief when I see it’s Johnny. He’s here. He sees me.
The fear slowly fades but lingers just beneath the surface as I muster up
enough courage to get out of my car and meet up with Johnny, who is
waiting for me at the entrance.
His eyes narrow as he takes me in, but don’t linger on my covered bruise.
“Yes, I slept great.” Sarcasm drips from my words as I step beside him.
The slight lean back doesn’t go unnoticed. He truly doesn’t want to touch
me. “Did you get punished too?”
 There is no fear in my words, only defiance, masking everything I feel
inside. I’m good at faking, as are all women. Putting up a mask for the
outside world, showing how good we’re doing even when we’re screaming
on the inside.
Begging someone to notice what’s going on and tell us everything will be
okay. But on the other hand, we don’t want to show weakness, only
strength.
My thoughts make no sense, but there is one thing I know for sure.
We can never truly win.
I hope someday I will look back at this and tell myself how wrong I was.
That one day I do win, have everything. And even with all the plans I have,
the light I see at the end of this long and twisted tunnel, I can’t be sure if
that will feel like a victory.
But I will still take it, the freedom I deserve.
I hope my stalker will grant me that. As long he doesn’t snatch it away
from me.
I’m not a violent person, but if I have all I want one day and someone
tries to take it, I hope I will fight for once. Truly fight for what is mine.
Because yesterday has showed me that I don’t fight. I let things happen, I
give up. I might have tried a bit with my stalker, struggled. But I didn’t
fully fight.
I am stronger; I know I am. But I’m keeping myself weak.
The question is, why?
“What’s on your pretty mind?” Johnny teases, ignoring my question fully.
But I do see it in his eyes, that strange glint. Is it caution? Sorrow? Or is he
mirroring the fear I have in mine?
 However, his teasing still relaxes me. I know he won’t truly do something,
especially since the warning. So, this makes me feel safe.
“You,” I tease back.
His gaze narrows slightly, and he shakes his head. Maybe he wants to help
but can’t. That makes this all even weirder.
“I hate to tell you that you are going to miss me.” He tilts his head to the
side, and I sigh.
“You’re leaving me alone?” My tone is flat, but I’m grateful that the fear
doesn’t return. Even now as we step out of the elevator and walk toward my
desk, I feel safer here than at home.
He shrugs. “Well, I had some things to take care of here, but I’m done
now.” He scratches the back of his neck, and I silently nod as I toss my bag
on my desk.
“I think you’re going to miss me more,” I say.
He smiles softly. “I hope you’re still here when I get back.”
My brows pinch as his words sink in. They feel like they have a double
meaning, but it is too late to ask. The bastard disappears like he does
sometimes. He can run faster than I can blink.
I shake my head and take my seat, going over the line I want to say when
that phone eventually rings.
But it never does, not once. I pick it up, listen to the tone. I know it works,
but there is no call.
I have nothing other to do than to imagine who my boss is, the one with
the glass office. The empty office.
With one last peek around, I walk over to the glass walls encasing the
mahogany desk inside. I want to go in, or even touch it. Just because I’m
not allowed.
 This excitements bubbles, and I take the first step, my hand inches away
from the glass. Ready to feel it under my skin. How cold would it be?
Would my hand leave a mark? Would they know I did this?
I flinch and yelp as the phone rings.
Fuck, the phone. I trip over my own feet as I run toward it. This is my
moment, right?
“Good morning. Amravati Enterprise. This is—”
“Where is Ezekiel?” a strong female voice cuts me off, and I gulp. Who is
Ezekiel?
“I’m sorry, Miss…?”
“Landrey. I’m calling for Ezekiel. Where the fuck is he?!” Anger radiates
through the phone.
I can feel myself getting smaller as I stammer with my next words. “He
isn’t here at the moment. Can I take a message?” I try to stay strong, not
letting her hear how unimportant I feel.
She sighs heavily, and I can hear her typing in the background.
She hums. “I’m on my way. Just make sure he’s there.” The anger slowly
fades, and a calmness follows, but I don’t trust it yet. As if it is the calm
before a storm. A storm I don’t want to be caught in.
“I will.”
With that, she hangs up.
Who the fuck is Ezekiel, and how am I supposed to get him here?
Johnny.
Johnny can help me.
Grabbing my phone, I type a message.
ME: Hi, Johnny, a Miss Landrey is looking for Ezekiel. She is coming
here.
 I wait for the two marks to show, but only one pops up. Maybe his phone
is off? I sigh and lean back in my chair, not knowing what more I can do. It
seems I just have to wait and see whoever shows up first.
Ezekiel or Miss Landrey.

OceanofPDF.com
 Chapter Ten

I
haven’t heard anything from Johnny, and as the clock ticks on, my
nerves reach higher, waiting for that ring of the elevator that will reveal
who walks through the door.
And then, it finally comes.
The sound echoes my way, and my eyes snap to the center elevator, the
one no one is allowed to use. According to Johnny, it’s only for the boss.
The one that is never here.
I expect to hear heavy footsteps, but I hear nothing.
Until I see her.
She moves silently and with grace, but holy shit, I was right. She is a
storm. Truly one you don’t want to touch. Even from a distance, you can
see she isn’t one to mess with. The softness of her features, her hair, and
eyes are all a mask.
The scar that runs from her eye to her jaw is proof of that and so are the
ones one her bare arms. She is fierce and powerful. And all I want to do is
bare my neck, but why?
 I never done anything like that before, but my entire being wants to show
respect. Acknowledge her as better, above me.
She meets my staring gaze and holds it. Her eyes are a light green, ones
that pierce through your soul as her wavy blond hair rests on her shoulders.
The corner of her lips lifts a tad as if daring me to keep my gaze upon her.
I gulp as she comes closer, the air around me shifting. The hairs on my arms
raise and I cave, diverting my gaze down with a bow.
What am I doing?
“Is he here?”
“No, ma’am.” I tilt my head back, unsure what to do.
She scans me, taking me in. “No one has ever called me that.” A soft
chuckle leaves her, and everything about her softens. Her nose wrinkles,
and her lips part, displaying a tender smile.
It is only brief, a moment that passes quicker than a blink.
“I’m Aurora Landry. Please don’t call me ma’am.”
“Won’t do it again, Miss Landrey.”
For the first time, she looks down and I feel as if I said something wrong.
However, she says nothing as she walks away, heading toward the glass
office. She doesn’t even pause and opens the door, straight to the fancy
glass bottle of strong liquor.
I don’t know if I should stop her, I probably should, but I know I won’t
win.
She gulps the glass in one go and comes back.
“Tell him I’m…” she pauses, a glint of mischief roaming through her
green eyes. “I’m disappointed.”
Oh. We all know what that means. If you tell a man you’re mad, they
know they can make it better, but if you say you are not mad but
disappointed? They know they fucked up big time and can’t fix it in an easy
way.
“I will.” I smile softly as she takes me in once again.
“Goodbye, Rose.” She turns and strides to the elevator, while all I can
think about is how she knew my name. I don’t recall saying it to her.
I stand faster than I should, knocking some of my stuff over on my desk.
“Wait,” I call out, and she stops, turning to face me. “How do you know my
name?” I ask as I cautiously step closer.
She cocks her head. “In my world, it’s important to know all the players
in the field.”
World? Players in the field? I’m no one…
“What is my part then?”
She smiles, and her shoulders drop slightly. “Not my story to tell. See you
soon.”
I have nothing left to say, and she knows it. Without a second glance, she
slips into the elevator. Only when the doors almost closed does she meet my
gaze again.
A grin forms, and her eyes show an unnatural fiery red.
I shake my head, sure that I must have seen something that isn’t there. I
knew she had soft green eyes, and I’m sure there wasn’t a glint of red in
them. Not like with Johnny, who has this red undertone in his eyes.
I don’t know how much time passes, but I don’t move an inch, not sure
what to do next. I text Johnny once more, but he doesn’t reply.
Maybe I should visit another floor and ask around, but I have to stay with
the phone. That’s my job. Or am I making excuses because I’m feeling
stupid that I don’t know who Ezekiel is? Biting my lip, I mull it over.
 It is almost time to go home and see if my stalker shows himself again.
With everything that went on today, I honestly didn’t think about him. The
fear, the anxiety that crawled beneath my skin is gone, faded into nothing.
And now, as I hold onto that feeling, I grab my stuff, ready to head out.
Until the loud ding of the elevator lures my attention.
Heavy footsteps echo off the marble floor, moving closer until I see him
standing a few feet from me. My phone rings, but I can’t peel myself away.
His tailored suit clings to his body like a second skin. His hair styled
flawlessly. Black, shoulder length, seamlessly raked back. Only a single
tendril hangs in front of his face. His sharp features make me gasp, and my
skin heats. He has thick brows and deep-set eyes in a shade of brown that
almost looks like a red mahogany color. His nose is thin, and his lips are
perfectly balanced.
My body almost feels electric when he stares back, and no words come to
me. I don’t know his name, and it seems almost impossible to recall even
my own.
Johnny rushes over from the elevators and stops beside the man.
“Sire—” A quick cough follows as Johnny swallows his words. “Boss,
this is Rose.” His gaze drifts toward me as a nervous smile tilts his lips.
So, this is my boss.
“Mr. Amravati, it’s nice to meet you.” I extend my hand to shake his,
forcing the tremble from my body.
It’s surely understandable that I’m nervous, I made up this entire story in
my mind about how my boss would look, how he would carry himself. All
by looking at his office.
His brows pinch together as his dark gaze drifts to my hand.
 The silence between us thickens, and I wait in this uncomfortable
moment. Unsure what my next move is. His hand flexes at his hip. But all
that comes is a low grunt before he resumes his way without another
glance.
Johnny gives me an apologetic nod and hints at my phone. I lower my
hand and grab my phone to see the text I received.
JOHNNY: Leave, Rose.
Oh…
Well, it’s too late to leave now. And why should I even leave? I’m
supposed to be here, right?
I look back at my boss and Johnny, seeing they have noticed the used
glass from earlier. Johnny is pacing in front of Mr. Amravati. His usual
cocky attitude is gone, everything that makes him him now hidden under
this layer of stress and fear.
And still, the corner of my lip curves as my boss gazes at me from afar.
Fuck, he’s handsome.
I take my seat, ignoring Johnny’s text as I wonder if Mr. Amravati is
Ezekiel. Ezekiel Amravati. That even sounds pretty.
Oh no, don’t go crushing on your boss. I shake my head and turn on my
computer, going back to pretending I’m working.
Almost an hour has passed before Johnny rushes past my desk. I check
my phone, but he hasn’t texted me again. Slowly, I rise and head toward the
office. Mr. Amravati is busy on his laptop. His brows pinch together as he
swirls the liquid in the glass he holds with his free hand. The scent of
whiskey wafts my way as I knock on the open glass door and wait for him
to look up. But he doesn’t. He ignores my existence.
 I hesitate. “Mr. Amravati, do you need anything from me?” I hope he says
yes, that he puts me to work. Real work. Not guarding a silent phone.
He grunts and gestures for me to leave.
“Miss Landrey—” I pause as his eyes snap to mine. “She had a message
for Ezekiel.”
He nods, urging me to speak further, and now I know he is the one she
was looking for.
“She said she was…disappointed.”
I expected some change, something to show what he is thinking. But there
isn’t; his features remain stoic.
His lips part slightly. “And?” His voice is rough and low, one that makes
me edge back.
I swallow. “Nothing really. She knew my name, and she said it was
important to know all the players on the field. I have no idea what she
meant by that.”
There it is. A slight gulp. Her words meant something more than I
thought. However, there is no explanation as he focuses back on his screen.
Maybe I should feel something with him being so dismissive, but nothing
comes. Nothing other than this interest. I just hope it is only because of the
idea I have a real job now, and not because I can’t stop staring at his
features. Silently, I get back to my chair and wait. Wait for him to call me,
wait for him to give me something to work with, but nothing changes, and I
can’t stay here the entire night.
“Sir, if there is nothing you need, I think it’s better for me to head home.”
His lips remain sealed; not a sigh, not a glimpse or nod. So, with that, I
take my leave. There is not much I know, but everything screams that he’s
annoyed by my presence, that he doesn’t want me here.
 It’s fine. That is what I keep telling myself as I drive back home.
Everything is fine. If he fires me, I will find another job. Even though I have
only worked at his company for a short period of time, I still have
something to show at the next interview.
My plan doesn’t change. It doesn’t need to change. I won’t let him change
it. I have to get better, know more to make myself useful. With that, an idea
forms.
Miss Landrey.
I have to know everything. I have to know who she is and what she
needed from my boss. Maybe then I can show what I’m worth. Because I’m
worth enough. Worth more than merely guarding a phone.
Worth so much more than serving as a punching bag for my husband.
My eyes begin to sting, and I blink away the tears. The rollercoaster I
went through today, the emotions that have stormed through me, are too
much to truly grasp. I need something to hold onto.
And it seems I’m given that. I might make this up, but I know it’s him. As
the car idles at a red light, I spot the shadow by the side of a building.
It’s my shadow.
Even with his darkness, maybe he can be the one who will remain my
constant. The one who doesn’t hurt me.
At least, not yet.

OceanofPDF.com
 Chapter Eleven

I
’m the first one to arrive, just as I planned. I didn’t know if my boss
would come in today, but if he does, I want to be ready. Ready for
everything.
Excitement grows inside me; I finally get to do something. Right?
I stayed up till pretty late, trying to find anything I can about Miss
Landrey. But there wasn’t much to find. She is the CEO of a company in
another city, and she doesn’t show herself. Like, not ever.
She doesn’t have a husband, or children. Or any family. At least, none that
I could find.
It almost seems she doesn’t exist at all. She doesn’t have any social
presence, hides from the cameras at certain events.
I did the same search on Ezekiel. There were some articles about his
business, the donations he made to the city. But nothing other than that. No
social media presence, all as if they both don’t want to stand in the
spotlight.
 I did spend an unhealthy time staring at the one picture displaying his
face. But I won’t tell him that.
The sound of the elevator opening pulls me from my thoughts. I don’t
dare to look, not yet. I wait to hear him closing in, but it doesn’t come.
Silence, nothing other than silence. My skin prickles, and my heart
stammers, fearing it might be someone else than my boss.
Carefully, I peek up and flinch in my seat.
“Mr. Amravati.” I rise as he stares down at me.
“You don’t need to come in when I’m here.” His voice is harsh, but his
words cut even deeper.
His first opinion of me is that I’m useless. He doesn’t need me. He
doesn’t want me. I haven’t even gotten the chance to prove myself.
“I’m not going anywhere, Mr—”
“Sir,” he interrupts.
“Sir,” I repeat. “I’m staying here, doing my job.”
He grunts in disapproval, but he doesn’t send me away. I see it as a win.
Without a word, he heads to his office and I follow behind him.
I might be pushing it, but I have to try. I’d rather get fired for trying than
sitting at my desk the entire day doing nothing.
Hmm, wait… I don’t want to get fired. At all.
My strides slow, and I contemplate my next move.
“Pour me a glass,” he orders.
My hesitation is killing me as he glares at me, his hand flexing at his hip.
“Now, Rose.”
Fuck, that sounded good.
I shake away the thought. Don’t go crushing over your very, very
handsome boss.
 Pouring the whiskey into one of the glasses, I carry it to him. My hand
hovers over his desk when he doesn’t take it. He did mean this, right? Sure,
it is way too early for whiskey, but I’m not going to argue about that.
“Put it down.” He gestures to the side with a nod.
I do as he orders and wait for what he wants next. Should I ask him? Or
should I wait?
God, this can’t get any more uncomfortable.
“Leave.”
“Yes, sir,” I say and turn to walk back to my desk.
I do nothing the entire morning as I try not to stare at him. He never
smiles, not even a slight curve of his lips when Johnny was here an hour
ago. His face is stoic, a mask that shields him from prying eyes. Like mine.
Not that I’m a threat to him; I could never be.
He’s lean, well-built, and I wonder who would win in a fight. Greg or my
boss. I don’t even know why I’m thinking like this, but I have to do
something to pass the time.
I straighten as he taps his empty glass. Is that for me? I take my chance
and hurry inside his office to fill his glass again. But the moment I do, I
realize I showed him I was watching like a creep.
“I’m sorry, sir. I didn’t mean to stare at you, but I’m just waiting for you
to tell me what to do.”
“I don’t mind.”
“Mind what?”
“You, watching me.” His face is as stoic as it is all day, but I see it, I see
how his lip curves, just a tad.
And now I blush as my glasses inch down. Shit.
 I scrunch my nose, pushing my glasses back up and turning to put the
bottle of whiskey back on its place. He grabs my hand, the one holding the
liquor bottle and I flinch. My fingers lose their grip, the bottle sliding from
my touch but he manages to catch it before it shatters to the ground.
“You shouldn’t touch me,” I say quickly.
Placing the bottle on his desk he watches me carefully. “Why? Am I not
allowed to touch you, or you don’t want to be touched?”
“I don’t mind being touched.” Oh god, can this day get any worse? Why?
Why am I this person? Why can’t I be normal instead of saying stupid,
weird stuff? “That came out wrong,” I whisper, but that slight curve of his
lips is there again.
“I’m not allowed to touch you then.” His head is tilted to the side slightly,
and I’m sure he is finding this all very funny seeing his harsh stoic
appearance has softened for the first time since I met him.
“No, you are, but it’s just better if you don’t. Ask Johnny,” I reply with a
smile, even though I want to be swallowed by the ground beneath me and
just disappear.
The amusement he had disappears, and he gestures for me to leave. My
shoulders slump, and I head back to my desk. I don’t know exactly why he
put his shield back up, but I have a feeling it had something to do with me
mentioning Johnny.
But I only want to keep myself safe. I don’t have this itch to get punished
again because someone else touches me. And maybe Ezekiel knows
something about the black rose. Johnny sure does, but he keeps it to
himself. Ass.
Not another word passes between us. And even now as it’s time for me to
go back home. He’s on the phone, ignoring my existence.
 I’m not asking if I can help with anything before I leave; I already know
the answer. And I hope when I try again tomorrow, it will be better.
The second I step out of the building and head toward my car, I feel it
again. The tension in my shoulder, the tightening of my ribs.
My shadow.
He has been waiting for me to show myself, and it makes me realize even
more that the only place he doesn’t follow me inside is where I work.
The thought gives some comfort, something that fades quickly when I see
the rose planted on my seat.
It doesn’t surprise me that he was able to get into my car. I think anyone
can if they really try. But why? What does he want from me? Other than to
follow me, text me, and touch me?
God, he’s already doing everything. What’s left for him? Kidnapping me?
Killing me?
Pushing away my fear and burying it under a fake layer of strength, I slip
in my car and adjust my rearview mirror, not daring to look again. If I don’t
see him. He doesn’t exist.
That is the thought I’m going with right now. Because the other one is
much darker.
A thought I don’t dare to speak aloud.

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 Chapter Twelve

I
’m not safe. I never will be. The thought weighs on me, pushing me
down, and the only light I see is my daughter and work.
I feel safe there, and every day, I get more work to do, feeling more
useful.
“Rose, send these out,” Ezekiel orders, holding some big envelopes from
where he’s seated at his desk.
“Right away, sir.” I take the envelopes, feeling how his fingers brush past
mine as he gazes at me. As if he’s testing the ‘no touching’ rule.
He never touches me weirdly, just in these kinds of ways. When he takes a
glass from me, when he hands me something.
I’m sure he thinks it’s funny, as I see his lips curve slightly.
I let him have it, as I like to see him smile. Better than his stoic
appearance he gives me 99% of the time.
“Rose.” His words stop me, and I turn.
“Yes, sir?”
“Where are your glasses?”
 I blink, surprised he even noticed I wore contacts today. “They kept
slipping down, so contacts are easier.”
“I like the glasses.” He looks at me, staring in my soul, and I feel my face
heat.
“Noted,” I reply with a smile.
I wait for him to blink, to glance away. His brow arches, and I’m the one
caving, turning away, leaving him alone to work. I don’t want to be nosey,
but it’s my job to know everything. Or it should be.
As I grip the thick envelopes to bring downstairs, I memorize the names.
There isn’t an address on them, only a names.
Landrey
Dawson
Only Landrey sounds familiar, but now I have one more name to do a
Google search on. I only want to be more useful, and I have so much more
to give, what I can do for my boss. I know it.
He only needs to give me a chance.
As I make my way downstairs, goosebumps raise on the back of my neck.
A warning of the one lurking in the distance. I don’t understand why; I’m
alone here, and my shadow never comes inside the office building.
The elevator doors open, and I flinch when I see her.
It wasn’t my stalker my body was warning me about, it was Aurora.
“Did I spook you?” she asks with a chuckle.
I clutch the envelopes tighter and slowly nod. “I’m just a bit jumpy, that’s
all.”
Her eyes drift to the envelopes in my hand. “One for me?”
“No, sorry,” I apologize and step around her.
“Rose,” she calls.
 I turn and wait for her next words.
“Lie better next time.” She winks as the doors close.
I sigh and my shoulder slump. I don’t know if I was allowed to give the
envelope to her like this, maybe it wasn’t even for her. There might be
another Landrey somewhere.
It doesn’t even matter what she thinks of me; she isn’t my boss. She’s
nothing to me.
The clerk I hand the envelopes to doesn’t look twice at the names before
disappearing down the hall.
I haven’t been to every floor in this building, I never had a need for it. But
this floor gives me the creeps. There is this darkness here, and I can’t shake
the feeling that my stalker is here too.
It doesn’t take me long to be back at my desk. And confusion roams
inside me when Aurora isn’t here. I thought she was heading upstairs.
With that in mind, I head to Ezekiel.
After a soft knock on his glass door, I step inside. He doesn’t look up; he
never does. But I know he knows I’m here. I edge closer and take the seat
across from him.
His fingers pause above the keyboard, his jaw slightly ticks.
“Sir, Miss Landrey was downstairs. Didn’t she come up?” I ask.
He turns, his gaze locking on mine. It seems he doesn’t like it when I take
a seat across from him. But as he likes to tease me sometimes, taunting me,
I do the same.
I don’t know where this daring attitude comes from. But I don’t mind it.
“Aurora?” His brows twitch.
“Yes, she was on the third floor.”
“Did you give the envelope to her?” he asks.
 I shake my head. “No, I didn’t.”
“Good,” he sighs and focusses back on his laptop.
I stand up and stride back to my desk. I don’t have much that makes me
happy in my life. Not my husband, not my sister. Only my daughter and
this. Even with little to do, I’m enjoying my work. I’m finally becoming
who I want to be. Instead of hiding in my own skin.
“So, you want more to do?” His voice startles me as he suddenly stands
beside me. His fingers brush over my shoulder, and I slightly tense. What
does he mean by that?
I breathe deeply as his touch fades, and he smiles. Truly smiles.
“You like pushing boundaries, it seems. Me too.”
I swallow. “Some I will never cross, sir.”
He hums and sits on my desk. “I will never ask anything you don’t want
yourself.” His eyes drift over my desk, and he softly laughs. “You really
have nothing to do.”
I manage a shrug. “And that’s not my fault, sir.”
His smile falters, and his gaze narrows.
“You don’t like when I push back, sir?” Did I push back? I don’t see it
like that. I still see it as a slight tease. The same as he does with me.
“Just not used to it,” he mumbles.
“I won’t do it if it angers you, sir.” I mean it; I really don’t want to be let
go because I’m pushing boundaries too much.
“It’s…” he pauses, his eyes snapping to mine. “Different.”
One of my brows raises. “Good different?”
“I don’t know yet.”
“Okay,” I breathe as his gaze remains on mine.
He beckons me forward. “Come, let’s get some lunch.”
 “Together?” We never eat together, not even really spoke to each other.
This was the longest conversation I’d ever had with him.
He lets out an exasperated sigh. “Yes, Rose. Together.”
He doesn’t wait for me before heading to the elevator. It takes me a
moment to understand what he wants. Because this man goes from friendly
to stoic in a blink.
“If the doors close and you’re not in it…” he warns.
Flushing, I sprint after him.

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 Chapter Thirteen

I
made it, and I still can’t understand what is happening. It almost makes
me forget about my shadow. That is, until Ezekiel presses his hand on
my lower back as he ushers me outside.
No, I will get punished again. He can’t touch me.
What will my shadow do?
“Rose?” he says, his voice tinged with concern.
“What?” I ask, eyes wide, moving away.
“Is it the touching?” he asks.
And the fear inside me fades as defiance surfaces. I don’t know how he
does that, how he brings up that side of me. But I’m not complaining.
“You don’t fear anything, do you?” I murmur as his hand hovers behind
me.
His brows pinch, and a stray hair falls forward when that teasing smile
resurfaces. “I’m the one most fear.”
I snort, a sound I’m not proud of, and his eyes narrow. I cover my mouth
with my hand as I blush. “Sorry, sir, I know you enough to say I will never
fear you.”
There is this sense of safety in his presence, even when he glares at me
with such a soulless expression. Like he’s doing now.
Ezekiel tuts, “You don’t know me, Rose.” His voice is flat as he opens the
car door for me. Not an emotion to be found.
And still, there is no fear coming.
Something else.
I’m intrigued by him, I think.
But it feels like more…
And even now, as the car takes off and Ezekiel sits beside me, having his
stoic mask back in place, I can’t help but smile.
“Seatbelt, Rose,” he warns.
“Yes, sir,” I mumble and put it on, my smile refusing to fall.
“Rose,” he warns again, and I slowly meet his gaze.
Why this need to taunt him grows, I don’t know. But it makes me forget
about all my problems and worries again.
I nod, and he smiles back.
I know he likes to be in control, and he is. He’s the boss.
We don’t speak, not during the drive, not when we arrive at the restaurant
for lunch. He doesn’t order much, just a simple salad, and I try to find
something to eat on the menu.
I’m not a salad girl; give me some fries and some snacks any day. But all
that’s on here are fancy things that I don’t recognize.
“What do you want, Rose?” Ezekiel asks as the waiter watches me
closely.
I hesitate. “Erm, I don’t know. Maybe I’ll take the salad as well.”
He shakes his head, pressing, “Rose, what do you want to eat?”
 I peer over the menu, wondering if he’s serious. His brow is arched, a
teasing look glinting in his gaze.
“I would like some fries and maybe a burger.” I bite my lip. Well, the
truth is out there now. Nothing fancy for me.
Before the waiter can respond, probably to say they won’t have something
that simple, Ezekiel holds up his hand. “Burger and fries it is. I will have
the same.” He grabs my menu and hands them back to the waiter, who only
nods and nervously smiles.
“Maybe they don’t have that here,” I say softly.
He shrugs. “Then they’ll get creative.”
I hum and wring my hands together as Ezekiel buries himself in his
phone.
“Why did you ask me for lunch?” I wonder.
“You didn’t want to eat?”
“No, it’s not that. I’m always hungry, but why? We’ve never eaten
together before.”
He puts his phone down, and a sigh falls from his lips. A different one
from when I push his buttons.
“Honestly, I have no idea why I asked you for lunch.”
A silence falls between us, and he picks up his phone again. “Are you
happy, Rose?”
Happy? What is that a question? And now he glares at me as if he can
read my thoughts, see my soul.
“Getting happier the more work I get to do.” I smile, hiding the fear that
snakes inside me.
He looks disappointed with my answer, and I can’t really blame him. But
the question was maybe too personal. I’m not about to tell him all my
secrets or what happens behind closed doors.
I know what will happen if I do. The questions. Why don’t you leave?
Why don’t you run?
I’m going to, that’s the idea. But with how things are escalating, I wonder
if it’s ever safe for me to leave. Whether Lucy will be safe.
“Rose?’ Ezekiel’s voice snaps me out of my thoughts. “How long have
you been married?”
Why is he going in this direction?
I let out a nervous chuckle. “Since I was eighteen. I got pregnant really
young.”
“No regrets?”
My jaw ticks slightly. “I don’t regret my daughter; she’s my world.”
“I didn’t mean it like that, Rose.” His hand flexes as if he wants to do
something but is holding himself back.
“I don’t have any regrets,” I say. I only made mistakes; I should never
have stayed with Greg after the first time he touched me.
I flinch as Ezekiel takes my hand. “You only need to say it.”
“Say what?”
My question falls on deaf ears as the waiter brings our food and Ezekiel’s
touch disappears. He doesn’t bring it up again, but I can’t help and smile a
bit as I see him eat the burger while wearing his fancy tailored suit.
“You’re staring again, Rose,” he murmurs between bites.
I quickly avert my gaze towards my untouched food. “Sorry, sir.”
He corrects, “Ezekiel, when we aren’t working. You should call me
Ezekiel.”
“Ezekiel,” I repeat back.
 The corner of his lips twitches, and I know he’s fighting the smile that
wants to creep on his lips.
We eat in silence, and not an uncomfortable one. There is a peace in it, a
safety. One that makes me aware of what waits for me at home. But Ezekiel
won’t let me drown.
As if he knows where my thoughts are taking me, he taps on his plate
with his fork, and I blink away my thoughts.
“What’s your plan?” he asks, dabbing his lips with a napkin.
Damn, pushing right on the sore spots. How does he do that?
I lazily move around a fry on my plate. “Work until I can stand on my
own two feet and take care of my daughter.”
“You need money?”
Throwing money at my problems won’t solve anything. Maybe for a short
time, but I want to be free. Truly free. That means not leaning on another
man because I’m not strong enough.
I have to get strong enough. I have to push back all my fears and
nightmares and take what I want.
“Boundaries, Ezekiel,” I remind him, glancing back up from my plate.
“I thought you liked crossing them?” There he is, taunting me again as he
tilts his head to the side with a smirk.
“Not all, remember?”
He hums. “Here.” He hands me an envelope with my name on it.
“What is this?”
“Open it when you’re at home.”
My forehead creases in confusion. “Why?”
“Because I don’t want to be there when you get mad.” He dusts the
crumbs of our meal off his hands as he rises to his feet, tossing some money
on the table.
“Ezekiel, why would I get mad?”
There is it, a full smile. One he doesn’t show often. I actually think this is
the second time he ever smiled at me, and I don’t know if that’s truly a good
thing.
“Ezekiel, why would I get mad?” I ask again as he heads toward the door,
and I know he isn’t going to answer me.
I hold the envelope tighter in my hand and stuff it in my bag.
Is this a letter telling me I’m fired? Is that why he brought me here, to
soften the blow?
No, he doesn’t seem like a man who would care about something like
that. He doesn’t seem to care about anything. There are no pictures in his
office, no ring on his finger. But it doesn’t make sense, why ask me all these
questions if he doesn’t care?
Wait.
I catch up to him, just before he gets in the car and ask what’s on my
mind. “Are you happy, Ezekiel?”
His gaze rakes over me. “Soon, I will be very happy.”
“And why is that?”
“I will have everything. I will have it all.”
“Will I be there?” I have no reason to ask this, or even think this. But it
was the first thing that came to mind, and with that envelope in my bag, I
need to hear his response to this thought.
His eyes snap to mine, and I already know the answer.
He proves me right; he isn’t a man who softens the blow. He gives them
full force, no mercy.
“No,” he says simply.
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 Chapter Fourteen

I
’m too stunned to speak, not knowing what more I can ask because I
don’t know if I even want to know the answer to my questions. No, I let
it be and finish my day with a smile, holding my head up high while that
stupid brown envelope weighs heavily my bag.
And now, I have it in my hands. Too scared to open it because then it will
be real.
That’s who I am, I suppose. Closing my eyes, pretending nothing is
wrong. Nothing is happening to me.
It’s killing me. Killing me from the inside.
It’s a slow death, nagging your soul away until there is nothing. But then
again, that’s not completely true.
I have my daughter to help me push through. I won’t leave her alone in
this world. I have to warn her about the monsters in the shadows, or the
ones behind the white picket fences.
With a deep breath, I rip the envelope open and take out the letter inside.
I read quickly, and soon I curse.
 “Fucking asshole,” I murmur.
That…that man is… God.
He was right, I would be mad at him because I didn’t want this. I said I
didn’t. I said no.
Why do men always ignore me, always think they know better? My
husband thinks that and believes I need to be slapped around. My stalker
thinks that, taking my choice away as he follows me around and touches me
when he wants.
And now, my boss. Thinking I need his money. I don’t want any
handouts; I want to work, and he knows that.
It’s not a check he’s giving me, so maybe he did listen a little bit. But it’s
a raise. One I don’t deserve because I’m not doing anything. At least, not
enough for this amount.
And it seems the extra money all goes into my private account, meaning
my husband won’t even see it.
I don’t know what to do with this. A raise is the opposite of what I was
expecting, especially since he said I won’t be there when he has all he
wants.
Maybe he didn’t mean it in a business way, but it did seem that way.
Business is his entire life. Nothing else has led me to believe otherwise.
And still, he can read me like no other. It’s annoying actually.
And safe. It feels safe.
My shoulders slump, and my breath quivers. I’m too much wrapped up in
my own world that I don’t hear him. I don’t feel him coming closer.
Not until Greg snags the letter from my hands and reads it.
I try to take it back, but with a simple shove, I’m forced to sit back down
on the couch. First, he seems pleased and even happy that I got a raise.
 And then he sees it.
He sees the account, the one I kept hidden.
I know what comes next, I know it will hurt. With him, I know what my
punishment is, the one he makes me believe I deserve.
Scrunching the paper as he balls his hand into a fist, it comes.
My head snaps to the side as his knuckles slam into my cheekbone.
He sneers, “Are you hiding money from me?”
I cough, blood dripping down my cheek and whimper as he grabs my jaw,
forcing me to look at him.
“Do you think you can leave, Rose? I will never let you take my daughter
away. Do you hear me? Never!”
“I’m sorry,” I croak. I should have known better.
I can never win.
Never.
“You stupid whore!” He grabs my hair and drags me to the kitchen.
I claw at his hand, pleading with him to let me go. “Please, Greg. It was
just for a rainy day. That’s it.”
“Liar!” He tosses me across the tile floor, and my back hits the wall.
I don’t know why he brought me here. To the kitchen. Is he going to cut
me? Hurt me more than he ever has?
He paces, raking his fingers through his hair. “I know I’m not perfect, but
I just get frustrated. We never have sex, we never talk.” He pauses as I inch
back. “Maybe we should try more, you know.” He nods at himself; an idea
has formed.
I know what I always wanted from him in that department, but I don’t
want him anymore. It’s done between us. And I never want to go back. I
don’t want his touch like that.
 “No, Greg that isn’t going to fix it between us. You hit me, kick me!” I
scamper up, holding onto the kitchen island. My face throbs, my lip is cut.
He shakes his head, shushing me. “This will fix it.”
“No, don’t.” I hold up my hands, begging as he comes closer, unbuttoning
his pants. “Greg, don’t.”
He grabs my hands, shoving them away until his body is pressed against
mine.
I never win.
A thought that haunts me.
Greg lifts my skirt and grabs my leg, hooking it around his hip, and
pushes his hard cock against my panties.
“Stop, please,” I beg.
He wets his fingers with his mouth and slides them inside my panties,
nudging further as I try to move my hips from him. “This will fix it, Rose.
Stop fighting.”
I don’t. It might be a first, but I don’t stop.
“Greg, stop!” I yell, hitting his shoulders.
He doesn’t relent, thrusting his fingers inside me. Disgust. I feel disgusted
by his touch. I want it gone. Away. I grab his shoulders and tug him closer.
He groans, thinking I’m giving in. And then I bite down hard.
He screams, hitting my head, but I don’t let go. I bite harder until I taste
blood. His body leaves mine, and he slams his fist in my stomach, forcing
me to release him.
“You fucking bitch,” he seethes in rage. “You bit me!”
I spit the blood in his face. “I hate you!”
He is ready to hit me again, but as the front door opens and Lucy darts
inside, he stops.
 “This isn’t over,” he hisses.
“Can’t wait,” I mumble and turn away, grabbing a kitchen towel to wet
under the sink to fix myself up.
“Look what Aunty brought me, Mommy,” Lucy squeals in joy, but Greg
lifts her up and takes her to the living room.
“Mommy doesn’t have time now,” he says, and my teeth grit.
Of course he’s trying to make me look bad. Fucking ass. I want to kill
him, make him feel the pain I’ve had to endure. And more. So much more.
“What did you do now?” my sister asks with a sneer.
I sigh and continue to clean myself up. My cheekbone throbs, I can feel it
starting to swell. How the hell can I cover that up?
“Not everyone is addicted to his cock.”
She huffs. “That attitude is the thing that makes him mad. He is such a
sweet guy, but you know exactly what buttons to push. Behave for once,
Rose.”
Behave? I have to behave?
I turn to her, knowing I look like a trainwreck. She doesn’t look surprised,
though. She eyes me up and down and laughs. She actually laughs.
“Jeez, Rose. You look like shit.”
“Yeah and his cock would have made it better.” I shove past her, needing
to sew myself together.
She doesn’t say anything, nor does she follow me up the stairs. They
deserve each other, they truly do. She didn’t even have the decency to deny
their affair.
I was where she is; I was in love with Greg once. He was so sweet to me,
but when things started to spiral down, I was the one who got beaten. I was
the one that fucked everything up, according to him.
It is always the fault of the victim, right?

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 Chapter Fifteen

A
nd so, the trainwreck continues. There is not possibly enough
makeup I can put on to erase the swelling. I let my hair down to
shield my swollen face from prying eyes. My big glasses also help a tad.
Maybe I shouldn’t have come in today, but I couldn’t stay at home. I was
grateful that Greg ignored me the rest of the night and this morning, I was
grateful that Lucy pretended not to notice.
But fuck.
Everything hurts.
Again.
All I can do now is pretend again. Act as if nothing happened while I type
away on my computer.
Ezekiel needed me to copy some files and check on some numbers. It’s
nice that he is letting me do this, but it feels unnecessary. I recognize the
files I have to copy; I’ve done it before. And the numbers he needs me to
check are flawless.
 “Rose, can you make a reservation for lunch?” Ezekiel calls from his
office.
“Yes, sir,” I say and get right on it, choosing the same place as yesterday. I
don’t know if he wants me to join, though.
He adds before I can ask, “For two.”
Right, he can read me like a book. I smile and regret it instantly. I don’t
make a sound as I hear him come closer.
“Look at me,” he orders.
No, no, this wasn’t the plan. He isn’t supposed to ask me this. Why? Why
does he do this? Why does he pretend he cares? Why does he make me feel
like he cares? I know he is a man of a few words, and has this blank
expression most of the time, and yet, I feel better when I’m with him. I
can’t explain it, I truly can’t and when he’s glaring at me like he’s doing
now. I can’t handle it.
I glance up and force myself to smile, ignoring the ache on the left side of
my face. My hair shields the swelling slightly, but I don’t know if it’s
enough.
He slowly reaches for my face, and I inch back. His touch hovers midair,
and he narrows his eyes. Ever so gently, he brushes my hair to the side,
revealing what lay beneath.
His words are deadly. “Did he do this?”
“You were wrong, you know. You don’t know everything.” I pull back,
returning my attention to my screen.
“Rose, answer me. Who did this?” he retorts harshly, using the kind of
tone that tells me I must listen. I cannot disobey his command.
I blow out a sigh. “Yes, I was mad, but not as mad as he was. So, you
were wrong. You can’t know it all.”
 His jaw ticks, and his eyes darken. “I will kill him.”
“No, you won’t.”
“Rose, he is hurting you.”
I scoff, “If anyone deserves to kill him it’s me. Now, go back to your glass
office and let me do my work.”
He doesn’t move. He doesn’t walk away, and I swallow back the lump
that forms. I blink away my tears; he has to move.
“Say it. I need you to say it.”
I sputter, “Say what, Ezekiel? We are nothing to each other. Stop trying to
help me! You are not my knight in shining armor here.”
“I never said I was the good guy, nor the hero. I’m not, Rose. Trust me,
I’m the nightmare of most,” he grits, his hands balling into fist.
“Then pretend this never happened and let me get back to work.”
“Rose—”
“My choices, not yours.”
Our words has shifted something between us. I pushed him away, and he
pushed as well.
He wants to help. He wants me to be safe, but he says he’s the bad guy.
And I… I don’t want this. I don’t want this drama. This complexity. I want
something simple and good.
I shake my head, knowing all too well it doesn’t have to be good. But I
don’t want to get hurt anymore. I don’t want to be punished with a slap or a
kick.
I want out. But I can’t escape.
Greg has changed, and my plan has gone to shit.
I don’t know if I can anymore. If I’m strong enough. I was never strong, I
was always weak but now, I’m too afraid of what he might do.
 Because death scares me too much.
I need something else to get me through it all, to make me stronger. To
make me believe I can take it and get through this.
My shadow was right; there would be a day I would crave his games, his
attention.
My body is fucked-up, and my mind is as well.
Maybe there is no saving me, but I have to try.
For my daughter.
“Man up and leave him,” Ezekiel says.
“Man up?” I seethe.
His lips curl back over his teeth. “You dare to speak back to me, but you
let that weak husband of yours hit you, hurt you?”
“You don’t scare me. He does!”
“I should be the one you fear, not him. Man the fuck up, Rose. Or I’ll do it
for you.” He doesn’t wait for a response before returning to his glass room.
I don’t follow him with my eyes; I don’t want to look at him. I hate what
he said, all because I know he’s right.
For the most part.
Greg isn’t weak. I am.
I’m a stupid woman who can’t get her shit together and fight back. Just
once, I need to fight back.
I shift in my seat. My stiff body makes me whimper, and I laugh. I can
never fight back; he will kill me if I do. I will never be strong enough to
make him stop. Maybe I should accept help, but I have a feeling it will only
make it worse.
The same when I was getting bullied in school, my mom thought she
could fix it and talked to the teacher.
 In her mind, it helped because she never heard me cry again, but for me
school became ten times worse.
The only thing I learned was to keep my mouth shut.
So, why would this be any different? Ezekiel can try to help, but I will be
the one living there.
I haven’t saved up enough money to rent another place and that never will
happen now that Greg found out I have a separate bank account.
“And what if he kills you before that?”
I flinch as Ezekiel stands in front of me again. For a tall man, he can
move as quiet as a mouse.
“Don’t think you know what I’m thinking,” I snarl.
I have no idea how he does it, how he knows what goes on in my head.
His jaw ticks, and he shakes his head.
My eyes narrow. “I’ll be fine; you don’t have to worry about me.”
“I’m not worried,” he snaps quickly.
“Then why are we having this conversation?”
“Because I—” he pauses, and he sighs. “Well played.” And with that, he
leaves.
I grin in triumph and focus back on my work. Trying not to think too
much about the conversation I just had.
I shouldn’t read anything into it, but I can’t help but feel this warmth
spread beneath my skin. That there is someone in my life that cares. Even
though he says he doesn’t.
“Drink this.”
I startle, and my entire body freezes upon seeing Ezekiel again holding a
mug. “Fuck, stop doing that.”
“Rose,” he warns.
 “Sir, stop doing that,” I say, and smile up to him, albeit forced. “Please,” I
add as his angered gaze burns me.
He hands me the mug. Steam swirls above it, and the scent of hot
chocolate roams toward me. I take it, my fingers brushing past his, and I
shake my head.
“All of it,” he orders before heading back to his desk.
I nod, knowing all too well a hot chocolate won’t cure my sores.
Taking a sip, a heavy sweetness dances over my tongue, and I moan. Oh
god. My eyes snap to Ezekiel to find he’s grinning.
“It’s really good, sir. Thank you,” I call out and take another sip.
I have no idea what he’s put in here, but damn, I wouldn’t mind having
this every day. I chug it all in one go, finding the hotness doesn’t bother me,
and my entire body feels lighter and warmer.
The stiffness, the tightness in my face fades, and I lean back in my chair,
savoring this blissful feeling.
My phone buzzes, and I take a peek. At the sight of the text displayed on
the screen, my lips curve into a smile.
EZEKIEL: Always tell me. Never hide.
ME: If you make this every time, I will.
EZEKIEL: I promise.
As I put my phone down, I pause.
ME: Since when do you have my number?
Shit, maybe I should have said sir. The lines are blurring, and it’s getting
harder for me to see the difference between boss and friend. Is he a friend,
though?
EZEKIEL: I’ve always had it.
 My brows knit together as I read over his text again, feeling as though
I’ve talked to him before over text.

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A
s I prepare for bed, I notice there isn’t a single mark on me, as if
yesterday never happened. I have no idea what Ezekiel put in that
drink, but he has to give me some of that to take home.
I go to close the curtains and spot him. My shadow. He’s back. Watching
me by the same tree as two days ago and the day before that.
Always watching. Always lurking from a distance.
Fear lingers, but it’s fading. He can’t do any worse than Greg already has.
So now, my shadow is the one that makes me feel alive.
He is twisting my mind with these games. Giving me a way to forget
about my reality.
And it’s working.
I want to feel anything other than what I have now. I want to feel
everything.
It’s stupid, and dangerous.
And so, I let him in. He doesn’t need an unlocked door; he showed me
that the first time. But now I tell him to come inside.
 Show me more.
Show me where my limits lie, what the exact moment is where I fight
instead of accepting.
Within a blink, the shadow is gone. Only the tree remains in my front
lawn. I know he’s coming. I can sense the air around me change, the drop in
temperature that he brings. Goosebumps form on my bare skin, warning me
about the predator that inches closer.
I hear nothing other than the soft snores of my husband. And I wait, too
scared to turn because I know he’s already behind me.
The floorboard by my bedroom door creaks, and I smile. Last time, he
didn’t make a sound, and now he wants me to know he’s moving closer.
I do nothing. I don’t move, don’t fight. I don’t want to.
At least, not yet.
Cold leather gloves brush over my arms, and I shiver.
Will he punish me for inviting him in? Or will he reward me?
His body presses slowly against mine, and I stiffen, unable to fully
breathe. He towers over me, and I lean back, resting my head against his
chest as I close my eyes. Pretending this isn’t wrong or sick.
This is comfort, a need we all crave. We don’t like to be alone, and I have
been for too long. I just want someone to hold me, someone who wants me.
And he does.
He is the only one that wants me.
Not my husband, not the one who seems only interested in my younger
sister.
I push away the dirty thought and inhale deeply, desperate for my
shadow’s scent. The smell of burned wood and ashes fills my nose, and his
hands wrap around me.
 Tighter and tighter until I struggle to breathe.
I don’t scream, I don’t fight.
But as his hand creeps up, ready to cover my mouth, I bite back.
He groans behind me when my teeth puncture through his gloves. I feel
his skin beneath my teeth and bite down as hard as I can.
“Harder, little mouse. Hurt me,” he whispers, and I do as he tells me too,
until the taste of something sweet moves over my teeth.
I expected it to disgust me, but revulsion doesn’t come. Only the
sweetness remains. His other arm moves to my waist as his lips hover at the
shell of my ear.
His hand brushes lower, and I hold my breath. My heart stammers as he
cups my pussy.
“Mine,” he whispers, and his breathing shallows, his body tensing, and
when my eyes open, he’s gone.
Sometimes, I wonder if my mind simply makes it all up. Whether this is
some weird imagination of mine. Of this man coming into my house and
touching me, turning me into this needy mess for more and giving me all I
want and crave.
Forgetting about all my troubles and pains, until only pleasure remains.
“Rose, what are you doing?” Greg asks, and I glance back.
With a sigh, my shoulders slump. “Couldn’t sleep, sorry.”
He mumbles something and turns on his side.
As I take one last peek at the tree, my lips curve into a smile.
He’s there, lurking again. He looks down at his hands, and a blue light
illuminates his face as he types on his phone, but it’s still not enough for me
to recognize his features.
 My phone buzzes on my bedside table and I don’t waste a second,
knowing it’s from him. I might think I’m going crazy, but these texts show
me this has to be real.
UNKNOWN: If your bite leaves a mark, I will leave one next time.
My breath hitches in the back of my throat. My skin prickles, and a
mixture of fear and excitements bubbles inside me.
My thumbs hover over my phone, not wanting to regret what I respond.
ME: If it doesn’t, I will bite harder next time.
I taunt him, without truly knowing why. I dare him to do more, but for
what? Because I think he won’t kill me?
As I take the empty spot beside Greg on the bed, I wait for sleep to take
me. For dreams to show me how my life could be. Without horror, without
pain.

I’m startled awake, expecting my alarm to go off, but it doesn’t come, not
when today is Saturday.
I smile, knowing I will have the entire day and tomorrow with my little
girl. I missed her, and I feel like shit for leaving her. I know she understands
the best she can at her age, but I hate that I miss so much.
Perhaps I should have tried harder, looking for a job closer to home. I
shake my head as I rise up, not feeling the need to sleep in.
With my robe tied closed and my glasses on, I silently walk downstairs,
almost forgetting about all that happened last night. That is, until I find a
black rose waiting for me on the kitchen counter.
 With a slight tremble in my hand, I take it, and a hiss leaves my lips.
Blood drips from my finger, as a sharp thorn has cut me. I press the nick
close and toss the flower in the garbage. I don’t want to think about it, the
meaning behind it.
I have no control over this man, and still, he makes me feel more than
Greg ever has.
He’s a creep, a lurker, but still it’s nice to feel wanted, truly wanted. Even
if it is in the most deprived way.
“Very low standard,” I mumble to myself as I start breakfast.
With a band-aid now on my finger, I decide to make some pancakes,
wanting to surprise Lucy.
As the pancakes cook on the stove, the hairs on the back of my neck stand
on end. My eyes slowly lift, knowing exactly who must be behind me.
Why is he here so early? Did he ever leave?
His cold glove wraps around my neck, and he squeezes until I whimper.
“Let’s play, sweet Rose,” he whispers, and my vision dots, until there is
nothing but darkness.

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M
y head pounds as the lights from a nearby window force me awake.
I squint my eyes, trying to find my phone on my nightstand, but as I
attempt to move, I hear chains rattle, and my hand won’t leave its place.
My mouth is dry, and the fuzziness that clouds my mind slowly lifts until
I notice I’m not at home.
Images of the black rose on the kitchen counter flash before my eyes, my
shadow’s gloved hand around my neck, squeezing harsh, and then nothing.
I scan my surroundings as best I can, but without my glasses I can’t see
enough. It isn’t needed, not when I spot his silhouette in the corner.
He isn’t wearing his usual attire. His body isn’t protected by black
clothing, not where I see his pale skin. His face is still covered by a mask,
but as much as I can tell, it is a different one again.
“Let’s play a game,” he says, his voice sounding muffled and strained, but
I don’t understand why. Has he drugged me?
He edges closer, moving toward the end of the bed and letting his fingers
tease over my bare skin. Starting at my ankle, he inches up, and I shiver
beneath his touch, realizing I’m naked.
I’m ready to scream, to beg him to stop, but my lips won’t part. I try to
move, but my legs won’t work with me.
Nothing changes, only my eyes, and still, I don’t see enough. Not even
when he comes closer does my vision sharpen.
What game does he want to play with me?
“A game of pain and pleasure,” he answers, and I wonder if I spoke aloud
without noticing.
As my body lies limp on this bed, bare before my shadow, tears begin to
trickle down my cheeks. I’m without a fight, without a way out, completely
at the mercy of the one who touches me.
I don’t know what I was expecting, what I thought would happen, but all I
feel now is fear. I desperately want to be home, away from all this, to
pretend this all was a bad dream.
My lips finally part, but not a sound leaves them as his hand brushes over
my thigh, circling over my exposed hip.
I clench my eyes shut, trying to turn away from his touch, but still my
body won’t respond.
A sharp burn makes clarity come back in an instant, and my body jerks
away. My eyes snap to his other hand, seeing the lighter in it, as he flicks it
on, again and again.
“You can choose what you want, sweet Rose.”
“I-I-I…” I strain, but nothing more comes.
His teasing touch on my hip continues, moving toward my lower stomach,
and my eyes clench shut again, wanting to hide somewhere inside my mind,
pretending this isn’t happening.
 The sound of the lighter comes, and so too does the sharp burn on my
skin.
I whimper and open my eyes. His hand covers the burn, soothing the
sting, and then he continues his caresses around my stomach.
His voice is like sinful silk. “Reward or punishment, your choice.”
“L-l-le-let m-m-me go.” I almost sound like Lucy when she lies and tries
to hide something from me. But at least I said what I wanted.
And all I get in response is laughter.
He does what as he pleases, and I have no say in it. Not when I feel his
hand dip lower, brushing over my mound, and I expect his fingers to part
my folds, move between them, but he doesn’t.
He stops, pulls back his touch, and confusion follows.
His features become sharper, but not enough as he steps back, his hands
hovering over my ankle, and then I realize what he’s doing.
He is starting over.
His palm presses on my ankle, and he slides up, up to my inner thigh until
I feel his skin brush against my pussy.
And then, he’s gone again.
I don’t dare to close my eyes, not when I hear the lighter flick in his other
hand, warning me if I even blink.
My breathing changes as he continues his teasing torture and a heat
follows. Not from the flame, but from something inside me.
Every time his hand or fingers touch me, I tense and expect more. Until it
changes into wanting more.
I don’t want it, I truly don’t, but my body seems to react on its own.
I get punished if I move away, if I try to protect myself from him. I get
burned if I don’t comply.
 So now, as his fingers dip between my legs, brushing past my clit, I hold
my breath, sensing wetness pool, arousal following.
“I wonder if I dip lower…” he pauses and continues, his fingers parting
my folds, pressing in until I inch back as he roams by my entrance.
He groans, pleasure vibrating from him, and then the burning comes.
“Fight me all you want.” He lifts his fingers to his lips. “But I know what
you need.” He licks my wetness from his fingers, and the torture begins
anew.
I expect him to start at my legs again, but this time he starts higher and
skims his fingers behind my ear, down my neck, to my breasts. He toys
with them softly and tugs my nipples one at a time. With every pinch, he
gets harder until I feel the electric pleasure from it, rush to my clit.
My pussy throbs as he continues, going lower and lower until his hand
hovers over it. My legs shake, my body lit aflame, and I don’t dare to look
away.
I see the smile that forms on his lips, as if he’s waiting for something, for
me to cave, for me to say please touch me more.
But I won’t.
He never lied; this is truly a game for him. He gets off on it. He likes to
see me whimper, in pain when he punishes me, but he enjoys the pleasure
just as much. I wonder what he craves more.
My body might desire his touch, but I don’t.
He slaps me, right on my clit, and I yelp at the harshness. My walls clench
around nothing, and my arousal drips down.
God, how can my body be so turned on by this?
I can’t be into this; I can’t want him to touch me further.
Fuck.
 My needy clit gets what she wants as he softly rubs his fingers over it,
pressing slowly, and I can’t stop the moan that escapes my lips.
“Good girl,” he groans.
Oh no.

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 Chapter Eighteen

T
his is it, right? This is the moment he shows me what he wanted to do
with me all this time. I wanted it too; I thought I did.
He plays with me, toys with me, all for his fantasies, but I can’t hide it. I
can’t hide what courses through me.
What is rising.
Pure, unadulterated desire.
“Are you going to play nice and show me how you like my touch?”
I gulp, afraid to say yes. Afraid to say no.
The lighter flicks, and I carefully nod.
“Good girl.”
Those two words do more to me than I thought they would. They awaken
something, and I let him part my legs further as he crawls between them.
He starts at the same spot, my ankle. But this time it isn’t his hand, it is
his lips.
They are soft and warm. He’s gentle, kissing my ankle, slowly teasing my
skin as he moves up. He keeps my legs in place with his hands, but even if
they weren’t there, I wouldn’t dare to move.
Because this…
This feels…
Good.
I don’t close my eyes, keeping them on him, only seeing the top of the
mask he’s wearing. The horns scratch my skin, but quickly, his soft lips
follow.
I part my legs further, and I feel him smile.
Shit, I’m giving in.
But it does feel like my choice, or is my mind so fucked up that I don’t
see the difference anymore?
He’s at my thigh, the horns scratching against my pussy, and I whimper.
“Don’t worry, I won’t fuck you with my horns.”
My breath quivers, tension fades, and he laughs softly.
“Not today, at least.”
Oh god.
I don’t have words to respond as his lips brush over my clit.
“Tell me, do you want more?” he asks and flicks his tongue over my clit.
My lips are sealed as a moan threatens to escape. He does it again,
flicking his tongue and then swirling around, taunting me, daring me to
make a sound.
Pleasure rises, my need for more with it. My chains rattle as I try to move
my hands, but I don’t know if I want to move them to push him away or to
tug him closer.
“Don’t stop,” I breathe, panting when he doesn’t wait. Pressing his tongue
down and moving it slightly.
 My back arches, a moan spills, and his hands wrap around my hips,
pulling me closer as he buries his face between my legs. He is gentle,
moving slowly with his tongue, carefully picking up his pace until my legs
tremble and my hips buck against him.
I’m getting closer, and closer.
His lips latch around my clit, he sucks and flicks his tongue.
“Fuck!” I scream as I come undone, squirting over his face.
He groans, releasing his hold and gently moving his tongue lower, lapping
me up like his last meal.
“That has never happened before,” I whisper, not knowing if I should feel
good or ashamed.
He moves up, wipes his mouth, and sucks on his fingers. “Then we should
do it again, don’t you think?”
“I-I-I d—”
“Or do you want me inside you, little mouse?”
Nothing comes, only stammers, and he’s enjoying it. He smiles and holds
my gaze as his fingers roam between my legs, brushing past my sensitive
clit. I twitch, and his smile widens.
He teases lower and pushes inside me. My lips part, a shaky breath
following, and he curls his finger against that sweet spot.
His thumb caresses my clit as his finger thrusts.
I moan and want to hide from his piercing gaze, but I can’t. I’m drowning.
“You want more, don’t you? You want my thick cock inside you?”
He moves harder, and I can’t stop my body from responding as my hip
moves for more. Searching, craving another release. One only he can give
me.
 “Say it, you want me to fuck you,” he whispers, leaning closer until his
lips hover over mine.
My body presses against him, curving up, and moans follow. His skin
feels so good on mine, I want… I need…
“Yes, say it,” he urges.
My orgasm coils, and I inch closer, wanting to feel his lips on mine. But
he doesn’t let me. His free hand collars around my throat, and he pushes me
back.
“Naughty little mouse.” He clicks his tongue and tightens his grip.
I can’t breathe, I can’t move, and he doesn’t stop. Not until I shatter, my
second orgasm crashing through me, and I spill over his hand. He releases
his hold on me, and I wheeze for air. My throat sore, my pussy spasming.
“I-I can’t kiss you,” I whisper, needing more.
“Oh, sweet Rose, this isn’t love. This is a game of pleasure and pain.”
“Where is the pain then?” I ask, my voice hoarse.
His lips curve slightly. “So much to do, but not today.”
He unlocks my wrists, freeing me from my chains, and my eyes snap to
the large bulge in his boxers.
“Sadly, you didn’t ask for it,” he muses.
“Are you letting me go?” My body is still drifting on this high, my pussy
still tingling and tremoring around nothing.
His answer is a simple, “Yes.”
My brows pinch as he walks away, leaving me unchained.
“I don’t understand.”
He sighs and glances over his shoulder. “It isn’t my choice to make, it’s
yours. If you want my cock, you have to ask nicely for it. You will have to
earn it.”
 “Okay,” I say as try to wrap my head around all this.
“Get dressed, and I will take you home.”
I silently nod, and he leaves the room. I have never been here before, but
it sounds like he will bring me here more often.
I don’t know what to think of that. I should feel disgusted, scared—
anything other than excitement. No, that isn’t the right word for it. It’s hard
to describe. I want to leave, but I don’t want to leave. I don’t want him to do
this again but on the other hand, I really, really want him to do this again.
I wander around the room and find my clothes, phone, and keys. There
are no missing calls, nothing. And it worries me. Has he done something to
Lucy? Or Greg?
No, he said he only had eyes for me, that he wouldn’t touch Lucy.
An idea comes to mind, to ensure I’m not crazy. I crouch next to the bed
and lift the mattress, giving me the room I need to carve the date on the
headboard and my initials beside it. Scratching my keys on the wood, I push
hard to make my mark.
Sure, I’m not the first one he has done this to. And maybe if someday he
does decide to kill me, this helps.
I get ready to leave, put on my glasses, and carefully step out of the
bedroom. The wooden floor creaks under my steps, as I try to find anything
that gives me the identity of my shadow. But there aren’t any pictures or
anything that looks personal. There aren’t even clothes in the closets.
I flinch as my shadow appears. He has changed his clothes and mask; his
lips are shielded from me now.
He extends his hand, and I slowly take it. He yanks me to him, my body
pressed against his. “You are torturing me,” he sighs, tucking my hair
behind my ear. His fingers brush lower, over my ear to my neck.
 “How?” I ask, biting my lip.
He grins. “See you next time,” he says, and his grip tightens. More words
fall, but I can’t hear them, and then, darkness.

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 Chapter Nineteen

T
he scent of burned pancakes snaps me awake, and I quickly put the
stove out. I didn’t sleep great last night, kept seeing my shadow,
touching me, playing with me, and now I can’t even be fully awake as I
make breakfast.
Opening the window to let the smell of burned breakfast leave the
kitchen, I hear Lucy running downstairs.
“Mommy, there you are,” she exclaims, hugging me tightly. “I missed you
yesterday,” she whispers, and my brows knit.
“Yesterday?”
“Yeah, you said we would have the whole day, but you had to go in for
work.”
“But I always work on Friday, sweetie.”
“She isn’t talking about Friday, but Saturday, Rose,” Greg sneers with a
sigh. “Don’t pretend you weren’t away for the entire day.”
Why did I go to work on Saturday? I check my phone, but there aren’t any
messages from Johnny or Ezekiel, nothing to indicate I went to work on a
Saturday.
I frown, turning back to my daughter. “I’m sorry, Lucy, but I’m not going
anywhere today,” I promise, not really remembering anything of yesterday.
She squeals and jumps up and down while Greg glares at me. I try to
ignore it, but his gaze is burning me.
“What?” I whisper to him.
“Are you fucking your boss?” he asks, ignoring Lucy’s presence.
I shake my head, putting my hands on Lucy’s ears. “No, I’m not fucking
anyone,” I whisper-shout.
He huffs, stalking away, and I wonder if this moment is going to bite me
in the ass later. And not in a good way.
Lucy tugs my shirt. “Mommy?”
“Yes, sweetie.” I smile down at her, brushing her hair behind her ears.
“Are you leaving me?” Her voice is weak and soft, but her words break
my heart. Why would she even think that?
I take her hands and crouch down. “I will never leave you, I promise.”
She nods, but she doesn’t look convinced.
“Who said I would leave you?” I can guess, but I need her to say it. It’s
stupid maybe, and I can’t even do anything about it.
“Aunty said you were leaving and that she would stay here, with me and
Daddy.”
My jaw ticks, and my hands itch with anger. “Trust me, I will never, never
leave you.”
“Are you going to leave Daddy?”
I don’t want to lie to her, but she can’t know what I want. Or maybe I
should just tell her. She has seen enough.
 “Daddy and I are not always on the same page.” Yes, I’m already fucking
it up. As if she understands what that means.
“You two fight a lot,” she whispers.
Greg fights me a lot. “I know. I’m sorry you have to see that.”
“It’s scary.” Her voice softens, and she glances down at her bunny. I hate
that she’s scared; I should be able to protect her. She shouldn’t be scared of
her own father, nor for the situations that happen in this house.
She should have a carefree childhood. This is my fault. I know it is.
I pull her close, hugging her tight. “It will all be okay, I promise.” I try my
best not to break, not to cry. To stay strong for her.
“I want to stay with you, Mommy,” she whispers in my hair.
My eyes burn as tears threaten to fall. Stay strong, don’t cry.
“I will always stay with you.”
God, my heart can’t take this. My sweet little girl, how could I have been
so blind? Never noticing how much my life with Greg was scarring her.
I keep her close the rest of the day, upholding my promise as we take a
stroll in the park, heading to the playground. I have to hurry up with my
plan, as our life with Greg is taking its toll on her.
I know he doesn’t hurt her, and I know he cares about her, but I saw the
fear in her eyes this morning. She shouldn’t be afraid of her own father.
We need to run and hide from him, but I can’t. Not yet. I have to be
stronger. I have to be daring enough to get away from him. I need that extra
push.
You would think Greg hitting me and treating me like crap should be
enough of a push to leave. It’s insane that I have stayed with him for this
long.
 But that’s me. I pretended for too long that there wasn’t anything wrong
with us.
Telling myself what I needed, that all I craved was something extra, but
now all I want is safety.
Safety for my girl.
I breathe deeply as I watch her play with some of the neighborhood kids
when I feel it. My body tenses, my stomach coils, warning me he is lurking.
I sigh. Why come here? Can’t he give me a moment with my daughter
instead of following me around?
I know he wouldn’t be my stalker if he didn’t, but I try to ignore it. I don’t
want to look around, finding him behind some tree.
How could he even lurk here like some creep? Surely someone would
send him away or call the cops on him. I don’t have to be the one who sees
him first.
My phone buzzes in my back pocket, and my shoulders slump as I take it
out, knowing exactly who it is.
UNKNOWN: Are you ignoring me?
ME: I’m trying.
And failing, it seems.
UNKNOWN: Even after the fun we had yesterday?
Yesterday? Was I with him? Is that why I can’t remember?
ME: Not enough to make me remember.
My lips curl as I see the bubbles appear, telling me he’s typing, but a reply
doesn’t come.
ME: Lost your tongue?
I know I shouldn’t taunt him, but I have to admit it feels good, really
good. A moment without fear of him.
 UNKNOWN: Let’s see how daring you are tomorrow when I take you.
ME: Take me?
UNKNOWN: Yes, little mouse, just like yesterday. I will keep taking you
until you beg.
My cheeks redden, and I type quickly.
ME: For what would I beg?
I should have asked something else, tell him to stop doing whatever he is
doing with me. But I have no restraints, no control when it comes to him.
UNKNOWN: Until you beg for more.
I snort and shake my head. I don’t think that’s going to happen anytime
soon.
ME: I will never beg for more.
UNKNOWN: But you already did once.
I snap my phone shut and take a deep breath. My ribs squeeze, my heart
stammers, but what follows next, that slight tingle low in my belly, makes
me realize he is right.
His plans are working. He has me wrapped around his finger, as I can’t
help and be intrigued by my shadow. He says he will take me again
tomorrow, and I hope this time I will remember, because I already realize I
don’t have a say in when he takes me.
Like with everything in my life.

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 Chapter Twenty

T
his is me pretending. Again. Doing my job as if I’m not scared to
walk outside or go back home. All because of my boss. He makes me
feel safe, safer than I’ve ever felt before.
I shouldn’t think about him, or my shadow. I should stay on track with my
plan. But both of them help me in their own way.
I won’t tell them that; I never will. It’s a secret I keep hidden.
They do have some similarities; it’s funny even. Every time my mind
travels there, my own thoughts scream at me: NO. It’s as if my own mind
doesn’t want me to compare the two or even think about them in the same
thought.
I definitely should get myself checked by someone.
There’s no way I’m mentally okay. Not lately.
However, I ignore everything and put them together. Ezekiel and my
shadow have a similar build; both are tall, muscular men.
Their voices are different, of course. But their hands feel the same. I can’t
explain it, but when Ezekiel taunts me, brushing his fingers past mine as I
hand him some files, it feels so familiar. It feels good.
Good like my shadow.
“Rose, can you take this downstairs?” Ezekiel calls out from his office.
I quickly make my way over as he holds the paperwork out. I never want
to keep him waiting. Not because he’s my boss, but because he is Ezekiel.
God, my boss crush isn’t helping me today.
“Rose,” he says.
I startle. “Yes, sir. What is it?”
“You’re staring again.” His lips tilt slightly, and a blush warms my
cheeks.
“You like it,” I tease, taking the files and turning on my heel before he can
answer.
I shouldn’t taunt him back too much. I don’t want to give him the wrong
idea. I’m still married, and I don’t want another man in my life. I already
have that shit-face Greg and my naughty shadow.
I know he’s coming today; I can sense it in the air. He’s waiting for me to
step outside, come out of hiding so he can have his way with me.
The elevator ding snaps me out of my thoughts, and I step out. I take two
steps, hearing it close, and the darkness in the hallway makes me gulp. The
hairs on my arms raise, and tension surfaces inside me.
He’s here.
He’s in the building.
My legs shake as heavy footsteps edge closer, knowing it’s him. My
shadow.
I always hated this floor, and now I know why. My shadow dares to come
here. He might not visit the top floor, but on the third he dares.
 “Don’t,” I whisper into the darkness. My hand trembles, the files shaking
with it. This was the last place I felt safe, and now he’s taking that away
from me.
“Wrong word,” he says as he steps into the light.
His horned mask makes me inch back until my back is pressed against the
cold elevator doors.
“Why the horns?” I ask, keeping my head up, facing what he has planned.
“It reminds me of my past, when I had them.”
My lips part, blinking away the confusion his words bring.
“Don’t think too long.” His hand glides down, curling under my skirt. “I
want you thinking about something else.”
I swallow thickly while his hand moves up, his fingers hooking around
my panties before tugging them down.
“Do you know what I want you to think about?” he whispers.
I shake my head, wetness pooling between my legs. My body betraying
me.
He hisses, “Me, only me.”
My breath is shaky as he grazes his fingers over my slit, and he groans,
feeling the wetness.
“I want you to think about my lips on your body, on your pussy.”
A soft moan leaves me as he slides a finger inside me.
“I want you to think about my fingers fucking you until you wither
beneath me.”
He’s pumping slowly, my walls clenching around his finger, in need of
more.
“I want you to think about my cock, wanting to taste it in that daring
mouth of yours, or in that tight cunt.”
 I gasp at his words, my skin heating as this need for him sneaks beneath
it.
“What do you want now?” he asks, his voice husky and dark.
I’m a shaking mess as I try to fight it, fight him. “I don’t know.”
He chuckles softly. “Oh, you do know, you are just too scared to say it.”
I shake my head as he adds another finger.
“I thought you wanted to get stronger?” he taunts, daring me to get angry
at him, to stop being a weak little mouse.
And I hate that it is working. As my orgasms builds, I tilt my hips back
slightly, earning soft groan.
“Do you want to come?” he asks, and I weakly nod. “Get on your knees,”
he orders, his fingers leaving me, and I stagger on my feet. We can’t be
doing this here, I know that. And till, I have no control.
I glance over his shoulder, not wanting to be caught as I obey, lowering to
the floor. There is strength in giving in, right? It feels like that. Even as my
body squirms, waiting for a release, I wait.
I peek up, pushing my glasses higher as his hand rakes through my hair.
Tugging slightly as I hear his zipper.
“Tell me to stop,” he orders.
And I blink, and my brows crease. He’s giving me an out. An escape from
this.
But I don’t think I want it.
I forget about everything, my troubles, my drama and even my job.
“Don’t stop,” I whisper, wetting my lips.
He curses and frees his cock. Precum leaks from the tip, and I inch back
when I see the pierced head.
 “It’s an apadravya piercing. When I fuck you with this, you won’t want
anything else,” he teases as he tugs me closer.
My hesitation is futile, and my need for him takes over. I want this, and
this is my choice. I want to have him, all of him.
Not caring how bad it is, how wrong.
His grip on my hair tightens as he leads my lips to his cock. I stick out my
tongue, teasing the tip, before he guides his cock inside my mouth. He
pushes in, even as I whimper and struggle to breathe. He doesn’t stop until
my nose is pressed against him.
He moans, and my eyes snap up. God, he sounds so good when he moans.
His hands loosen, allowing me some space, and I slowly move. Wrapping
my lips tightly around his cock, increasing my speed.
He holds himself up by resting his hands on the elevator doors, and I wish
I could see his face without a mask, see his body without clothes.
I wrap my hand around the base of his shaft and tease my tongue over the
tip, circling the piercing and then moving down to his balls. Sucking gently
on both before I glide back up, I brush my lips over his skin until he slides
in my mouth again.
I don’t know what has come over me, but I don’t want to think about it. I
want to drown in this moment, feel everything.
His cock stiffens as I suck harder, knowing he’s on the verge of spilling
his cum. I can almost taste it. But he doesn’t let me have it, as he pulls out
sharply, moving back, staggering slightly.
Wiping the corner of my lips with my finger, I hold his gaze, wanting to
know his next move.
“Don’t stop,” I say without shame even though I should be ashamed. Of
what I just did.
 He pants and blinks rapidly as if something happened that shouldn’t.
I slowly rise, my arousal dripping down my thighs, and I edge closer to
him as he remains frozen. My hands wander over his clothed body,
brushing lower until they tease over his cock.
“Give me more,” I whisper, and he grabs my hands, making my pleasured
haze end.
“I make the rules, little mouse,” he warns, and my lips tug into a smile.
I got to him somehow, and that makes our fucked-up dance even more
intriguing.

“Rose, can you take this downstairs?” Ezekiel calls out.

I blink. My head pounds, and I feel lost. What was I doing?
“Rose!”
I scamper up and hurry to Ezekiel.
“Sorry, sir,” I say, glancing at the clock. How can it be 4 p.m. already?
What have I been doing?
He hands me the files, and I hesitantly take them. The moment feels
familiar, much too familiar, but I push that feeling back.
“You can go home after you’ve dropped these downstairs,” he says.
“Thank you, sir.” I don’t wait, I don’t stall before grabbing my stuff to
head home. And even as I stand in the elevator, waiting for the doors to
open to the third floor, this tension in my body surfaces.
I shift on my feet, rubbing my thighs together as if I’m missing
something.
Since when do I leave the house without panties on?
OceanofPDF.com
 Chapter Twenty-One

Ezekiel

I
almost lost control when she sucked me so perfectly. The pleasure she
gave me is something I’m going to deeply miss.
I’ve never met someone like her, especially a human. How she can give in
and stay strong after all I give her makes my cock throb painfully in my
boxers.
Today is the day, the end of our games. Because I have to. She is turning
it around, playing with me. She is capable; she showed that last time.
And that is dangerous.
They say you shouldn’t play with your food, but I know she will only
taste sweeter if she is riding this high. My bite would only add to that, the
endorphins that rush through her blood utterly divine.
Some go into shock as it becomes too much, a sensory overload. It makes
the blood taste bitter. That’s why I have become careful over the years. I
want every feed to be delicious, and I have that. But I had to have her when
I first laid eyes on her.
 The way she moved, the way she smelled, and the hurt in her eyes lured
me closer.
Every time I touched another, fed on another, she was all I could think
about.
However, it has to end.
She is becoming a weakness. One I can’t allow.
It’s a shame that she won’t survive this, not as long as she is human.
I won’t turn her; I won’t break the promise I made to myself years ago. If
I want her to be like me, Johnny must do it.
We know what happened when I turned a human last time. An act we
don’t want to repeat.
Their minds can’t take it, and neither can their souls.
They turn into rabid dogs, ones I can’t control and have no use for.
I never quite figured out why that happens. Maybe it’s a failsafe ensuring
the Strix will never become the apex species.
However, that will all end once my little side project is successful the way
I envisioned. Ensuring our species will rule again.
I realize I’m working on borrowed time; I know it all too well. I might
have an agreement with Alpha Ky Moreno, but he will claim them back.
My side projects, my guinea pigs. His queen won’t be able to live with
herself if her first love and his mate are in my grasp.
It surprises me even though it has been years. I haven’t had a single
message from Ky, not once has he tried to renegotiate our agreement.
But he will come. He doesn’t want to succeed in my plan, not wanting us
to climb the ranks.
We will, though. I will make sure of it.
 I step into our little lab. The scent of lavender, ashes and burned oak fill
me and I huff. “How are they doing today?” I ask our witch, one I grabbed
at the battle up north.
Her curly purple hair is fixed in two buns as her grey eyes stare into my
soul. She moves away from her table filled with all kind of mixtures,
potions, liquids that could kill you with a single drop.
Her steps are without sound on the wet stone floor and my nose scrunches
as she moves past me, different scents wafts from her, one even fouler than
the other. They say only our species can scent the true intentions of a witch.
This sweet one, might seem innocent but the smell that’s imbedded in her
skin only shows the amount of lives she took for her own gain, ignoring the
balance of nature. The balance her kind should protect.
She stops besides the tied-up wolves in the center of the room.
“The female seems to be the better option, seeing she has two souls in her
body co-existing besides her wolf.”
“Can the wolf survive the change?” That is the idea, turning a werewolf
into a vampire, making them a hybrid, one that serves me. Only me.
This is all Aurora’s doing. She changed the game when she showed us
that the power of the Old Bloods is returning. We have to be ready for the
others, because now it is only a matter of time.
Only a matter of time before the first of all supernatural species are
coming back.
That is the only thing Aurora doesn’t see, doesn’t understand. Not yet.
And let’s keep it that way, because if she knew it all, she would have
skinned me alive or given me to Alpha Ky as a plaything. I might be on
good terms with the Kings and Queen of the Wolves, but I never know
where I stand with Aurora. No one does.
 Being the most powerful being alive, one that doesn’t age or die—like me
—it is impossible to win with her.
Every enemy she’s ever had was ripped to pieces. I thought I had the best
patience for revenge, but she waited almost a hundred years to kill the ones
responsible for killing her mate.
She doesn’t let anything go.
So now she is disappointed with me.
I can only wait and see what that means.
“She should survive the change.” She bites her lips and shifts on her feet.
“But?” I press.
“She shouldn’t even be alive now. I wasn’t there when the coven brought
back her dead twin sister to place inside her body. Maybe it is because she
is a twin, but we have to choose.”
I sigh. “Choose which sister remains, and which one goes back to the
afterlife?”
“No, we might be able to turn her if we sacrifice the soul.”
I shift closer to the female wolf. Her body tied down, her lids closed.
Valentina is her name, or at least is her original name. Her sister, Aviana,
was brought back in her body.
All to weaken the Landrey family, to weaken the wolves. They would
have been successful if Alpha Ky hadn’t made his deal with me. I didn’t
have a choice. Not when darkness swirled around me quite literally, ready
to strike, crawling at my feet to remind me where I stand.
We keep our lab rats in a long sleep. When we first started and tried to
turn them, the screams were fun until they never stopped.
Now, all the tests we do are in their slumber.
 We have lost over a hundred wolves trying to turn them into hybrids. We
ripped them to pieces and sewed them back together, just to find out what
makes them tick.
All had the same outcome: It wouldn’t fit—the mind games of a vampire
and the shifting of a wolf. It wouldn’t match how we wanted it to; their
brains went into overdrive, turning liquid, and their hearts couldn’t keep up
until their bodies collapsed, leaving the most deformed creatures behind.
All useless. Completely and utterly useless.
Until sweet Valentina. A Luna from the north, who seemed to have it all
but was a captive in her own body held by her wicked sister. And her mate,
Alpha Xander, who was mated to them both, leaving him with enough of an
open soul to make him into a hybrid.
That is, if our theories turn out to be correct.
We need wolves that are already different, already have an anomaly. Like
being gifted with two mates, meaning that they have a soul that is more
open than others.
We thought only about the body but found out it all comes down to their
soul.
We are supernatural creatures; normal physics don’t work with us. We are
made from magic, and our souls decide what powers we have.
Whether we are shifters, mind readers, controllers of nature.
And I want to bring the two together. Changing the natural order of
things.
“Do it. What about her mate?” I ask.
The witch moves around the table and steps closer to the male wolf,
brushing his sticky hair from his forehead. “The bond between him and
Aviana will shatter, leaving an emptiness we can fill with the turn,” she
explains.
I hum again, my lips curving into a smile.
I will have everything today.
I will have my delicious fill of my Rose, and then I will have my hybrids.
Creatures that will rise above the others, under my control.
The witch bows her head and with a slight tremble in her body, she gets to
work. She doesn’t want to work for me, but what choice does she have?
She is addicted to what I have to offer: my blood.
A high she can only get straight from the source.
She persuaded Johnny once, my right hand who doesn’t have any control.
However, once you have mine, you can never enjoy another. You will
always crave it. Need it to live.
I only give to those I want close, to those I have a purpose for. An extra
leash, you might call it.
Of course, it blew up in my face a few times.
But my pets never seemed to mind. They’re always open for an extra
snack between feeds.
How would Rose feel about my pets? I wonder as I head upstairs, leaving
my wicked witch to her specimens.
Will Rose fear them? Or will she be intrigued by them?
It doesn’t matter. She won’t meet them.
At least, that isn’t the plan.
As I change into my specific attire to gather Rose, I brush my fingers over
the masks I have. Different dark colors, some different shades of black,
deep burgundy red, and dark forest-green. Half masks, only shielding my
eyes. With or without horns? Or should I go basic and wear a big hoodie?
 I scoff, shaking my head as I grab my favorite.
The one Rose seems to like best as well. Horns curl upwards, thick leather
lays on top. My lips free, giving me the room to taste her.
I remember the blush on her cheeks when I smiled. She almost does
anything for it. Anything to please me.
I’ve toyed with her long enough. I’ve pushed myself to my limits, and
now every fiber of my being craves to touch her, to have her fully.
With my mask in place, I leave my estate. Ready to fetch my plaything.

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 Chapter Twenty-Two

M
y focus remains on her, undressing behind the window. Almost as if
she’s taunting me, luring me in instead of the other way around.
She hasn’t realized that I’m here yet, as I haven’t come out of the shadow
I hide within. Or maybe she can already feel me coming for her. I made a
promise last time, one I intend to keep.
Sadly, she doesn’t remember, or rather, her mind doesn’t.
But her body will.
My lighter is clutched in my hand. My thumb trembles over the metal roll,
ready to ignite a flame.
I withhold my restraint, and it seems to be rewarded.
She turns to me, her eyes searching in the darkness, her shoulders slump
slightly when she doesn’t see me. My lips curl, knowing she wants me just
as much as I want her.
And then, she spots me. Staring straight at me, her lips part slightly, her
eyes widening almost just as much. I can hear her heartbeat changing, her
blood pumping faster through her veins.
 She doesn’t look away, not even a blink.
Rolling my thumb over the metal wheel, the flame ignites, and she inches
back at the sight of the orange hue.
I wait, wait if she moves out of sight, but it looks like she remains in
place. Keeping her eyes on me as I am doing the same to her.
A silent dance, waiting to see who is first to blink. First to cave.
It will always be her. She will always surrender, not me.
I stick to my routine. Routines that haven’t changed in hundreds of years.
Countless women have been where she is now.
All for my pleasure, for the hunt and the thrill.
Because my life doesn’t have that anymore; it is all politics and schemes.
Not with her.
It’s pure, what we have.
A game.
A play.
A need.
With a shivering hand, she closes the blinds. A smile lifts as all I want to
do is praise and punish her for it. I crave defiance and submission.
I want it all.
I want her to defy me. I want her to crave everything I can give her. She
will believe it’s all for her, but I’m a taker, not a giver.
I will take what I want from her, as I have done plenty of times before.
But last time, she said…
More.
OceanofPDF.com
 Rose

Safety. It’s what we all need. Some take it for granted, never having to
live without. I never did, and I never will. I need it more than ever because I
see him everywhere.
On my way to work, he’s there.
At my home, he’s there.
Running errands, he’s there.
The bastard is everywhere.
Even…
Even in my dreams.
In dreams I shouldn’t have.
It started with running from him, hiding until I was safe. But now, it has
shifted into something twisted.
I don’t run anymore; I wait for him to come get me. I beg him to take me
with him. I crave everything he is.
However, I don’t understand why.
I don’t feel these things when I’m awake. But why do I have it when I’m
asleep?
Is my own mind trying to tell me something, that I should stop running
from him? Or is this what he warned me about? That I would want
everything he had to offer?
Is it because I keep having these blackouts lately? Missing entire days…
Does he have anything to do with it? But how can he?
 I blame it on the stress he’s giving me, but what makes it even worse is
that I don’t remember where I’ve been sometimes. I’ve tried to remember,
tried everything, but nothing has helped.
Greg says the same thing every time. I went out for work. Perhaps I
should talk to someone, ask for help. But do I even know what to ask? I
never asked for help if Greg beat me, so why would I ask for help now that
I’m missing time?
I do know one thing: I know what I feel when I’m back from wherever I
went.
I feel alive. Wanted, touched.
And every time I think about it, I see him. My shadow.
ME: What have you done to me?
I send out the text, needing an answer. Needing something as I stand here
in my bedroom, lost in my own thoughts while Greg is doing god knows
what downstairs. And then the phone buzzes.
My shadow’s responses never take long. As if he waits for me, the same
as I wait for him in my dreams.
UNKNOWN: I gave you what you wanted.
I grit my teeth. He’s playing again, taunting me for asking him something.
ME: And what was that?
UNKNOWN: My touch.
My breath is shaky as I read it again. His touch.
Does this mean my dreams are real? That it’s me remembering what
happened between me and my shadow?
And even now as I step back, I already know he’s behind me, watching
and waiting.
Maybe that’s it. We are waiting for each other.
 I just don’t know why.
“Touch me,” I whisper into the empty bedroom and close my eyes.
Cold leather brushes over my bare arm, and pleasure ignites within me.
Another response of my body I don’t understand.
Nothing has happened between us. Not fully, but it feels like it did. As if
my dreams were real.
“Take it off,” I say.
“Don’t you like the mask?” His breath moves over my shoulder as he
bends down.
“The gloves.”
A laugh rumbles, but he listens. His skin soon touches mine, and I lean
back.
“Better?” he asks.
“Why does this feel so familiar?”
His lips brush over my neck. “We have done this dance before, little
mouse.”
“In my dreams?”
“Dreams, nightmares. All the same.”
My forehead wrinkles in confusion. “How?”
He smiles, his chest rumbling with a soft chuckle, one that sounds
familiar. “What is your greatest wish?” he asks.
Freedom, safety. “I want you to leave me alone.”
He clicks his tongue, and his hold tightens. “You shouldn’t lie, not when I
know exactly what is going on in that pretty head of yours.”
“Am I that easy to read?” I know who else can read me easily: Ezekiel.
He tilts my hips back, and I tense, feeling his hard cock pressing against
me. “I know you want this, maybe even more than me.”
 He can’t be doing this, not here. Not at my home where my husband is
downstairs, and my sweet Lucy sleeping two rooms over.
“I won’t wake them, I promise,” he whispers, leading me to the window.
“Don’t, don’t do this,” I say. But even I don’t believe my own words.
He opens the curtains and gently presses me against the cold window. I
don’t fight, I don’t struggle. Because I don’t want to. Excitement rushes
through me as he parts my legs with his knee.
“I want to remember this,” I moan as he cups my pussy with his hand.
There is a slight hesitation, and now I know I’m right. The blackouts,
everything. It’s his doing.
He unzips his pants, and his cock pushes against me, the metal bar on the
tip making me shiver. I remember that piercing.
“I will let you have this one, only this time,” he muses, rubbing the tip
over my clit to my entrance. “Now, what do we say?” he taunts, and I tilt
my hips back.
My warm breath fogs the window as my face rests against it. I try to
glance back, wanting to see him.
“Please, take me.”
“Take me? I will soon, but now I want something else.” He barely enters
and pulls out, torturing me as my body trembles with need.
“Fuck me, please, just fuck me!”
I don’t need to see him to know he’s grinning. But it works, he glides
inside me, and pleasure spikes as my walls wrap around his cock tightly.
He hasn’t done anything, nothing other than simply be him, and God, I
need more of this, of him. I want everything. I know it’s bad to want this, to
crave his touch, his presence, but I’ve never felt more alive than I have right
now.
 “Good girl,” he groans behind me, pulling back and thrusting forward.
His pace is torturously slow as I feel his pierced head rubbing that sweet
spot inside me.

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 Chapter Twenty-Three

W
hat is happening to me?
I wanted him to touch me—hell, I was asking him to. And I
remember every second of it.
Fuck, it felt so good.
But I can’t keep doing this. This is going too far.
With my car keys in hand, I’m ready to head to work. But as I unlock my
car…
I see it.
I see him.
In the reflection of the window, he stands behind me. A black rose
between his lips.
A shiver runs through my spine as my shadow’s gloved hand grazes over
my shoulder. Usually, I sense when he’s nearby. But lately, it feels like he’s
always here. It’s leaving me on edge, stressed.
“Don’t,” I say, and he cocks his head to the side.
He edges closer, and hands me the rose.
 “Last time we play, I promise.”
“Last time,” I repeat.
He grips the back of my neck, pressing harshly until my vision dots and it
feels like I’m falling into darkness, wondering if he’ll catch me. Maybe I’ll
never know. Maybe he won’t catch me, only show me what he wants from
our last play.
I don’t know what he means by it, because as he said it, it sounded like he
has taken me before.
I don’t fear what he might do to me. There is a familiarity in this, a déjà
vu that tells me I’m going to be okay. Or maybe that’s my mind playing
tricks on me as he hasn’t killed me. Not yet.
Goosebumps rise on my exposed skin. A cold breeze brushes over me and
I shiver, realizing I’m naked.
My hands are tied together, locked into place, and my body won’t respond
the way I want it to.
I know he’s here; I can feel it in my bones. Something inside me screams,
but not out of fear. Instead, with something I don’t recognize.
“Why did you take me?” I whisper, knowing he’s here.
“Because you asked me to.”
I didn’t, no wait, I did. But I never asked him to take me from my front
yard when I was about to leave for work. Oh god, work. I will lose my job
over this.
Work…
Ezekiel will miss me, maybe he will find me. Yes, he will come for me.
“No one is coming, Rose,” he sighs as I wonder if I spoke my thoughts
aloud. “He’s not a hero, remember?”
 My shadow is lying, I don’t know why I feel he is, but he is. He has to be.
Everything inside me tells me Ezekiel will make sure I’m okay.
I turn my head to the side, locking eyes with my shadow. His face is
shielded with a black mask, horns curving up. He tilts his head, amusement
glinting in his dark gaze, and I gulp.
Still, no fear.
Slowly, he rises, his jacket loosely hanging around him, his zipper open,
showing his pale, toned body.
I lean away from him when he stands by my feet, and the corner of his
lips lift. “Let’s see how well I’ve trained you.”
His hand flexes above my ankle, and I hold my breath as his hand lowers.
Electricity runs through me when his skin connects with mine. My back
arches, my nipples perk, and my breathing hitches in the back of my throat.
“Good girl,” he groans.
His palm brushes upwards, my legs fall open, anxiously waiting to how
far he would touch.
And I hate that I don’t want him to stop.
I know I don’t want to be here, or at least I believe that.
But now, as his fingers tease my clit, I moan, my eyes rolling back.
Fuck, this feels good.
“Say it, Rose.”
He plays with me, pressing his finger down and slightly moving as I feel
my orgasm build. Rising higher until I’m standing on this edge of pleasure.
The roll of the lighter snaps me out of it, and his touch fades.
“Say what you want from me.”
A blush reddens my skin, and I give in. My legs part slightly, but my
words are even more inviting.
 “More, please.”
“I will give you everything you’ve ever wanted, I promise,” he says as he
crawls over me. “Now, are you going to be a good girl for me and listen?”
I bite my lip, nodding. “Yes.”
His hand glides up my arm to the chains that have thus far keep me in
place. They fall with a simple touch, freeing my wrists.
I give in to all that roams inside me and softly brush my fingers over his
jaw. He’s frozen, not moving an inch as I touch him. Feeling his skin under
mine, I move lower. His cock presses against me, and I whimper.
“You want it?” he taunts.
“Everything,” I whisper. Everything I thought was me fades, and nothing
else seems to matter. All I want is this. Him.
He doesn’t fear that I’ll take off his mask; I don’t know why. And even as
his eyes look familiar, everything feels familiar. I can’t place it.
Yet still, I want more.
My legs tug him closer, as he traces his lips over my jaw, inching lower.
His hand crawls around me and lifts my hips up till I feel the outline of
his cock press against my clit.
“Make yourself come, little mouse. Show me how much you want me.”
He pushes down, and with a small hesitation, I move my hips, rubbing my
slit against his covered cock, more and more.
Until I’m panting, my legs shaking as he helps me with his hand on my
ass, urging me on.
I’m coming, rising to the edge until I’m balancing on it. My bucks are
slow, my orgasm ready to burst, moving through me, searching for a way
out.
“Don’t hold back,” he whispers.
 “I want to feel you,” I pant, wanting his skin on mine. Nothing left
between us.
He groans in my ear, and his other hand snakes between us until I feel it.
My breath shakes when his thick cock presses between my folds.
God, this feels good.
I move, tightening my grip on him, afraid that if I loosen, he will vanish.
“Stop torturing me,” he groans.
“I thought you liked to play,” I whisper. All I want is for him to order me.
I need that, and he knows it.
He inches back, staring down at me as his lips form a soft smile. “So
perfect.” He pauses, his fingers wrapping around my throat, and he
squeezes. “Now come!” he orders with a snarl.
My lips part, and moans fall, until everything shatters. My body and soul
at his mercy as my juices coat his cock.
He doesn’t let me come down as he slides inside me, pushing in until
there is no space between us.
As now we are one.
“So tight, so perfect,” he praises, and all I want is to feel his lips on mine.

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 Ezekiel

She is stunning, a goddess.

It’s a shame this is our end. But fuck, does she feel good. My pace is slow
and deep as she claws at my arms.
Even now she wants more, and I will give her the best feeling she’s ever
had.
All that she craves.
Death.
My fangs elongate, prickling her skin. A breathy moan escapes her lips,
and she tilts her head further to the side, welcoming what comes next fully.
My arms tighten around her, my cock throbbing inside her, and slowly, I
pierce through her heated skin. Her sweet, rich blood dances over my
tongue. She moans in ecstasy as pleasure courses through us both.
Her pussy pulsates around my cock, milking me for all I’ve got as I have
my fill. Her blood flows as her orgasm reaches her peak, I feel it.
A spark.
A link.
A bond.
No.
I fling myself back, leaving her warm body as she withers on the bed, her
body spasming in pleasure, longing more.
This can’t be.
Blood pours from the bite, her movements slowing.
As does her heartbeat.
Her breathing shallows, and I feel that harsh tug on my soul.
Screaming at me.
Forcing me to step closer.
Twisting and turning, like a knife in the pit of my stomach.
Pushing me to save my mate.
Fuck.

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 Chapter Twenty-Four

T
here she is. My sweet Rose. Unaware of what happened yesterday as
I had to erase her memories again. Even the ones I let her keep at
first.
The sound of her heels echoes off the floor, heading toward her desk.
Every day the same routine, never a second late.
Her hair is tied up in a high ponytail, her makeup simple, not needing any.
Her glasses slowly inch down, and when she reaches her desk, she pushes
them back up, scrunching her nose in a way that makes me lick my lips.
God, her lips. They would look phenomenal around my cock again. I
groan, shifting on my feet, watching her from a distance as I do daily.
She is supposed to be mine, but she won’t fit into my life. Not as a
human.
I never wanted to come in, only needed my game. That was until Aurora
showed herself here.
That bitch always knows. She knew even before I did.
 She knew Rose was my mate. And I’m waiting for her to use it against
me. She might not have a mate, or someone I can use against her. She has
no one—at least, no one I can touch. Well, I have that ace, almost.
“Good morning, sir.” Rose’s sweet words make my thoughts come to a
stop.
Our gazes lock, and tension fills the air, the mate bond pushing me closer.
I can already see the effect it has on her. Her breathing changes, and her lips
slightly part as a blush colors her cheeks.
Mates are a weakness, and she will be the biggest one of all.
I silently nod, and a glint of disappointment shines in her eyes. I have to
reject her, but I need her just one more time.
I keep telling myself that since last night. But I don’t think I can stay
away.
Useless mate bond.
I didn’t know we were mates when I started these games. But when I
tasted her, I knew. It all locked into place.
Leaving me screwed.
My ears perk when I hear the elevator opening. Not a sound follows, and I
rise, instantly knowing who it is. Rose sits quietly at her desk, waiting for
me to give her something to do.
I roll up my sleeves and wait.
Wait for the bitch to show herself.
Thankfully, she doesn’t have full control over her mother’s abilities, the
ones that she could use to roam inside my mind and find all I’ve been
hiding.
She moves away from the elevators and walks into sight, wearing her
battle scars with pride as her hair is tightly wrapped in a bun.
 “Aurora,” I say, noticing with distaste that she lingers by Rose.
“Ezekiel,” she sighs, staring at my mate.
My skin prickles, the need to rip Aurora away from Rose surfaces, and it
takes all I have to push it back. See? Pathetic mate bond. It would mean my
death if I touched Aurora. I want to say we are equals, but sadly we’re not.
With a simple touch, a snap of her fingers, I’ll be dead. Truly dead.
Aurora smiles and focuses back on me, closing the remaining distance
between us and joining me in my office.
I’ve always wanted to have a look inside her mind. I’ve even tried, but
every time I did, her wolf somehow managed to harm me. And all it earned
me was an amused Aurora and a bite mark somewhere on my body.
Her question is simple. “Did you do as I asked?”
My jaw ticks, hating the disrespect she has for me. The only reason she is
here is because she needs me to take over her business while she is away.
Or at least, that is how she phrases it.
I’ve heard about the renovations on her packhouse; they are turning it into
a fortress. And I cannot help but wonder why.
“We are almost ready,” I respond stiffly.
“Walk me through it.” She skims her fingers over the glass walls, leaving
small marks as she waits for me to continue.
Gritting my teeth as I see the stains on my glass walls, I grab the file from
the cabinet behind me and skim through it until I find the page I need,
telling exactly all that I’ve done, all that we agreed upon. “All your assets
will be sold, except your packhouse and the land that comes with it. Half of
your money will be divided over the packs in the north, while the other half
will be used for the maintenance and guarding of your packhouse and for
investments that I will personally oversee.”
 She nods, glancing over her shoulder at me. “I want you to add
something,”
Taking out a pen, I signal for her to continue.
Even though deep down I didn’t want this deal nor to work with her, I
also didn’t have a choice. It’s good business, and for our services we will
get a percentage of her earnings every month until she’s back.
If she ever comes back.
“Ensure that my family will always be taken care of.” She glances at her
hand; black smoke lingers from her fingertips and I tilt back in my chair.
This isn’t a business deal. She wants to make a pact.
“Or?” I raise a brow, having not written anything yet.
Her face curls into a scowl, the smoke seeps to the floor. “Don’t make me
come to your dungeons, Ezekiel. Or take your mate.” Her eyes snap to Rose
as the dark sliver crawls over the marble floor. Ready to take Rose from me.
There it is, the threat she’s had up her sleeve since the beginning. So, all I
can say is, “Fine.” I don’t want her hurting what is mine or messing with
my side project, and I know once she’s gone, she won’t know exactly what
I’m doing anyway. Not until she’s back.
“Ezekiel,” she warns, and I sigh.
“Aurora, we might not have worked well together in the past.” Especially
since the battle, the one I sided with her opponent. “However, I promise I
won’t stand against your blood again.”
Her gaze narrows, and she shakes her head.
Fuck, I almost got away with that one.
“All wolves?” I tilt my head to the side, my lips curve into a smile, and
she nods.
“And they won’t kill your kind.”
 She snorts and glances back at Rose. “Weakness.”
“I know,” I say. “I will reject her.”
She shrugs. “Or not. The war is over, and the faction doesn’t exist
anymore. Maybe there will be peace.”
The faction, a group of supernatural beings with the sole purpose of
destroying any remnants of the Old Bloods. Anyone who had their powers
or blood running through their veins.
They were almost successful, and I even fought by their side plenty of
times, until my deal with Ky Moreno, an Alpha who led the faction for
many years, but he switched sides for love.
A silence falls for a brief moment, until we both start laughing.
There is always something happening, a pack attacking another pack,
witches trying to get the upper hand again. But yes, she is right. For once,
there is peace.
However, not for long. Not with what I have planned.
Vampires and wolves might have played nice the last four years, but as
Aurora moves out of sight, there has to be a new leader, one that stands
above all. Aurora might not see it like that, having renounced her title years
ago. Stepping aside for a younger wolf to rule all.
Even with my deal with Ky and Aurora, I won’t bow. I’m a king, a ruler.
One with patience. So, I wait in the shadows.
Wait for the right moment to strike.
Because you can only strike once.
And I have to make that one strike count.

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 Chapter Twenty-Five

Rose

E
zekiel has been on edge today, and I don’t know exactly why. Maybe
it’s because I missed yesterday? I had another blackout, but he said I
called in sick. I don’t know what to make of it, though.
The amount of time I miss keeps growing. And so do the dreams.
God, I shouldn’t be dreaming about my masked shadow fucking me and
ordering to come. It was a great dream, until he bit me. That was so weird.
Perhaps I binged Buffy the Vampire Slayer too many times when I was
younger.
Every time Ezekiel meets my gaze, he looks away, but not before I can
see the hurt in his eyes. Did something happen to him? Should I go in and
ask?
But that would be overstepping, right?
I know we sometimes have conversations that go beyond our professional
relationship, but what I’m thinking about feels different.
With a deep breath, I take my chances and head to his office. I don’t
knock before stepping inside. I know he knows I’m here; I can see it in the
way his body tenses. But I still hesitate before speaking.
“Ezekiel, what’s wrong?” I purposely use his first name, showing him that
he can talk, just as I have talked to him.
“Rose.” He gestures to the seat beside him, and I slowly take it. His brows
crease together, worry edged on his sharp features.
I wait as he wrings his hands. I’ve never seen him like this before. Did I
do something wrong? I thought he didn’t mind my presence—
“Stop,” he snaps.
“I didn’t say anything, sir.”
He shakes his head and meets my gaze. His eyes seem to change, the red
becoming brighter and this sense of déjà-vu surfaces.
“You won’t remember this, but I need to talk to you. I need to explain,” he
starts.
“Explain what?” I don’t understand why I’m okay with the rest of his
words. This calmness washes over me, and all my worry fades as a slight
buzzing sound echoes in my mind.
He sighs, “About you and me.”
I blink. “You and me?”
“It started as playing, an act I have done numerous times before. Before I
go for the…” He rises to his feet, his fingers raking through his tousled hair.
With a heavy sigh, he turns to me. “When I tasted you, something shifted
between, something that was hidden beneath the surface, a thing I neither
want nor need.”
Tasted? None of this is making any sense but my lips remain sealed.
“In the world I live in, we are burdened with what you would call
soulmates. Wolves recognize their other half with a single glance, but my
species only recognize their counterpart after sharing blood.”
 The calmness inside me remains, even when his words should bring
confusion and maybe even fear. What has he done to me? How am I okay
with this?
His eyes brighten once more, and the turmoil disappears, leaving a
soothing and serenity behind.
“I never wanted it, knowing it would only bring weakness.”
“Why? Shouldn’t a soulmate make you stronger?” My words stop his, and
his lips curve into a smile. Softness radiates from him, a part he’s only
showed me very few times until now.
“That is somewhat true. But some bonds are created to weaken.” A
chuckle leaves him, and I can see him thinking it all over. Wondering if he
should tell me more, or maybe everything.
“Everything,” he says. “You won’t remember anyway, and it’s good to
talk about my past, my origin.”
Before I can ask more, he continues, telling me all that is on his mind.
“I was the first of my species, created to serve the most powerful beings
that have walked this world. Specifically, the one that brought darkness,
death, and despair. The queen of them all. She was magnificent.”
His eyes glint, his craving for death and blood showing itself. It should
make me panic, but nothing comes, and I realize he is making it so. Doing
something to control my emotions so I don’t freak out over his words.
Because I should. I should feel scared with what he’s telling me about
species I’ve only read about in my fiction books.
He continues, “There was war and peace; it all existed in perfect balance.
Until some tried to overthrow her, and death won too many times. They
agreed to bind souls, to ensure there will never be an all-destroying war.
The goddess Celine was able to succeed and fulfil her masters wishes.”
 Goddess Celine? I have read about her in children’s books, the goddess
who created the werewolves, a myth. Wait, no, snap out of it. This isn’t
okay, this isn’t a normal conversation.
“I was one of the first who received a mate.” Ezekiel’s jaw ticks, and the
joy his words once possessed now seems to have evaporated, leaving them
hollow.
“What happened to her?” I whisper.
“I knew I couldn’t kill her; I knew I would become weaker, and I needed
to keep my position.”
I gulp, watching his fangs rub over his bottom lip.
He murmurs ever so softly, “I fell for her, but she betrayed me in the end.
I had to ensure my survival.”
“So, you did kill her?”
He laughs. “My species are very hard to kill.”
I’m quiet for a moment. Then, “Do you miss her?”
He briefly averts his gaze, as if the memory pains him. “No, not anymore.
Now, I’m waiting for my master to return. To remember.”
“To serve?”
He tilts his head to the side; mischief fills his red gaze. “To kill.”
“Can she be killed? The one who created you?”
Ezekiel shakes his head. “Not fully. She was imprisoned with the others.”
He pauses and clears his throat. “But somehow her power seeped through
the cracks.”
“Did you do that? Did you imprison her?”
“No, but I did help. And now a part of her is trying to figure out who
managed to imprison them all those years ago. But she doesn’t truly know
what she is looking for. Not even realizing she is one of them,”
 My brows crease in confusion. “Why is that?”
“She doesn’t remember, and nor does she remember I was her servant.
She only knows me as who I am today, a king.” A glint of mischief roams
through his eyes as he softly smiles proudly.
“How were they called?” How could us humans not know all this?
“Some call them gods, The First. But mostly they are called the Old
Bloods.”
“And what are you?”
“We were called the Strix, but humans have different names for us.
Demons, vampires.”
Demon or, “Vampire,” I repeat, feeling nothing as I say it.
He glares at me, his fangs on display. “I won’t take your life, not as I
planned. But you won’t have me as your mate. You don’t need me.”
I don’t let my thoughts take over, not wanting him to know everything,
and my act makes his grin.
“Good, little mouse.”
A blush creeps on my cheeks at the sound of his nickname, a name I have
heard before.
“What happened when you… tasted me?”
In a blink he hovers over me, his lips inches away from mine. “Do you
want to feel it again? Feel what my bite does to you?”
“I… I … don’t know…”
“I can tell you.”
I silently nod, and he presses his nose under my ear, brushing his lips over
my neck to my collarbone. A shiver runs through me, my core reacting, and
I can feel warmth and need spread inside me.
 “You withered beneath me, begging me to bite harder as pleasure took
over.”
His tongue runs over my skin, and my breathing changes. My back arches
as the tip of his fangs nicks my skin. He catches the droplet of blood and
moves back, meeting my gaze again.
“You little devil.” He laughs and runs his thumb over his bottom lip. “But
I have to protect you, Rose.”
“From who?”
“From me.”
My brows crease as he moves back.
“I have to try. I only hope I can stay away after our bond is broken,” he
sighs, running his fingers through his hair again. “This will only hurt a little
bit. You will be fine.”
“And what if I don’t want you to stay away?” My words come out quick,
without thought.
He stares at me, his gaze softening. “I know I’m taking your choice away,
and you don’t deserve that. And even though you can never be mine, I will
always be yours.”
What? No, wait…
“I, Ezekiel Amravati, King of the Strix, reject you, Rose Wallen, as my
mate.”
My chest clenches, and my lungs fight for air as nothing other than a
wheeze leaves me.
He cups my cheeks, forcing me to meet his worried eyes. “Say the words,
and then the pain will fade. Accepts the rejection. Be free, Rose.”
Freedom.
That is all I’ve ever wanted.
 But was it from him?
“I accept your rejection.”
“Good girl.”
I always wanted to hear those words, but now they leave a filthy taste on
my tongue.

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 Chapter Twenty-Six

I
stir in bed as my alarm forces me to respond. My body feels sore and
exhausted, and my mind won’t work with me.
“For fuck’s sake, Rose, get up!” my husband seethes, and I peel my eyes
open.
How did I get home? Grabbing my phone to stop the ringing, I try to
remember. I know I went to work, but I can’t recall how I got home, nor
how I got into bed.
“What time did I get home last night?” I ask.
“Pretty late, around ten.”
I drowsily nod and rise to my feet. My head pounds, and I feel like there
is something missing. Not only a memory. But something inside me.
I feel dull, unwanted. What am I even doing?
The entire morning, I can’t shake this feeling. This heaviness pressing me
down, telling me to get back in bed and hide under the covers. But why?
I have this foul taste in my mouth and my eyes prickle as if I’m ready to
cry. It almost feels like a hangover, but an emotional one.
 A gasp escapes me when I see the state of myself in the mirror. Heavy
bags under my eyes, my skin dulled, my hair greasy. Everything goes
slower than usual as I try to look the best I can. But the dark circles under
my eyes won’t hide under my concealer.
I kiss my daughter goodbye before heading to the car. Disappointment
crawls through me when I find no rose waiting. It has been four days since
the last one, and I hate what it is doing to me.
Not even my stalker wants me anymore.
Nobody does.
My phone buzzes, and slight excitement flows through me, something
that quickly fades away when I see it’s my sister.
Why is she up so early?
AMY: Shall we have lunch today? I can pick you up :)
Groaning, I want to say no, but maybe we should talk. Talk about the shit
she makes my daughter believe and how she pushes me even further in the
ground after Greg hurts me. I would feel better if she’d just focus on her
own life and let me be.
ME: Sure.
It takes two seconds for another ping, and my fingers dig into the steering
wheel. Anger rises faster than I can control it, and I decide not to grab my
phone but when my ringtone blasts, I quickly pick it up.
“What?” I snap.
“You’re late,” Johnny snaps back.
Fuck, I can’t be late. “No, I’m not!” Honestly, I haven’t checked the time
yet.
“Boss is freaking out because he has an early meeting, remember?”
 Why would he even freak out? He doesn’t even need me for the meeting.
I don’t do anything other than pouring his whiskey and bring some files
around. “I’m almost there. Get off my back, Johnny!” I hang up the phone
and peek at the time.
No, no, no, I’m definitely late. By a full hour. Fucking hell. What is
wrong with me? How can I be this late, but my husband and daughter were
still in bed?
Oh, right, she had a teacher’s day. She didn’t have to go to school today.
They were sleeping in.
My phone rings again, and all I want to do is scream.
“Yes, Johnny, I know I’m late. Stop distracting me!” I yell through the
phone, and silence welcomes me.
“Rose?”
Fuck. It’s Ezekiel. Why is this my life?!
I calmly clear my throat. “Sir, I’m sorry. I’m almost there.”
More silence follows, nothing other than the sound of his breathing comes
through the phone. My anger swiftly fades, and tears blur my vision.
Why am I crying?
“Rose?” he says again.
My breathing shallows, and panic surfaces without me knowing why. I
trust he won’t fire me for this. I do a good job, help everywhere I can and
work late more times than I can count. Always ready to help him, wanting
to help even though he doesn’t need it.
Fuck, what is making me cry?
“Rose, answer me.” His voice is calm but stern, and I sigh.
“I’m almost there.” I hide the shiver in my voice, not wanting to let him
know that tears are streaming down my cheek for no reason.
 “Are you crying?”
There it goes. Fuck.
I hold back a sniffle. “No, sir. Why would I be?”
“Stop the car. I’m picking you up.”
“No, I’m perfectly capable of driving, sir. You don’t need to pick me up.”
I blink away the tears, focus on the road, and pick up my speed.
“Rose, I’m not asking. Stop the car. Now!”
I take a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Sir, you have that meeting with
the Landrey family. You don’t have time to pick me up. I need fifteen
minutes, that’s all.”
No words come, only his breathing fills my ear, and I don’t know what to
do. I know how he can be if I don’t listen, but it’s nothing compared to what
I get at home.
I can take him; I know I can. But still, his words make me slow down and
before I realize it, I’m sitting on the side of the road with my car turned off.
“I didn’t listen,” I say.
“I know.”
My fingers tap on the steering wheel. “I did this because I wanted to.”
“I know, Rose. Thank you.”
Pulling back my lips to keep in the sob that wants to escape, I wait. Sitting
with his calm breathing in my ear, waiting for him or someone else to pick
me up. It only takes around ten minutes before the harsh knock on my
window makes me flinch.
I peer up, seeing the soft smile on Ezekiel’s face and Johnny standing
behind him, a heavy breath leave me.
Ezekiel gestures for me to open the door. With the phone pressed against
my ear, I open it. He waits for me, but I don’t know what to do until he
takes my car keys, tosses them to Johnny and extends his hand for mine. I
take it, and he finally disconnects the call and puts his phone in his back
pocket.
“You didn’t need to get me.” I shake my head, letting him lead me from
my car.
“I know,” he says quietly.
I sigh and mumble softly. “I was almost there; I was just running late.”
“I know.”
I rip my hand from his as he opens his car. “What are you doing? You
aren’t nice.”
He turns with an arched brow. “I’m not nice?” Amusement fills his gaze,
the corner of his lip twitching as if he’s fighting back a smile.
“Well, you can be a bit stern. And that’s okay.” What have I done, and
why did I say that?
But now as we stand across from each other, I know what has changed.
The warmth I always felt when he was near, this glint of happiness, has
disappeared. Completely gone.
There is nothing. He is just him. A stunning man, but the peace I sensed is
gone. It’s empty, everything is.
“It will get better,” he says.
My brows knit together. “What will?”
“Everything.”
I shake my head and move past him to get into his car. “You don’t know
that.”
“I know more than you know.”
He slides in beside me, closes the door and nods to his driver.
I raise my brows. “My car?”
 He only shrugs. “That gives Johnny something to do.”
I hum in response and lean back in my seat. I think this is how it feels to
have no more hope.
Always when I looked at Ezekiel, he was my hope somehow. He gave me
an out, with this job and just by being him. There was nothing between us,
and nothing ever happened. But I liked how he made me feel, how he
treated me with respect.
Or maybe my standards are just really, really low. I already knew that as I
fell for my stalker. And maybe a bit my boss.
A huff comes from Ezekiel.
“What?” I ask.
He types away on his phone, and I realize the huff wasn’t towards me.
What I can’t understand is why this light has dimmed. Why do I feel
empty and alone, even when I’m not? And how can Ezekiel say it will get
better?
“Have you ever tried poker?” I ask, tapping my fingers on the seat.
He gives me a sidelong look. “Yes, but it’s not that much fun.”
“Why? I think you will be good at it.”
He grins and shakes his head. “I am really good at it.” A wink follows his
words, but it doesn’t. Not the familiar warmth, not a single smile.
Maybe this is how feeling dead inside is. Maybe my soul had enough and
given up.
The car comes to a stop in the shadow Ezekiel’s building casts. I try to
open the door, but it’s locked. The driver gets out, and I wait for the door to
open, but nothing happens.
Ezekiel is on his phone again, and I sigh.
Perhaps I’m getting my first serious talk from my boss.
 “I will take you home after work,” he says without a glance.
“No, Johnny can give me my car, and I can drive back myself.”
“Rose.” My name comes out in warning, and I cross my arms.
“Ezekiel,” I say his name in the same tone.
The door finally unlocks, and Johnny opens it, gesturing for me to get out.
“Aren’t you coming?” I ask Ezekiel.
He looks up and shakes his head. The door closes before I can ask more,
and the driver gets back in, driving off while I stand there beside Johnny.
My lips tremble as I feel my throat constricting.
“You need a new car.” He laughs and walks to the entrance of the building
as I stay rooted in the place, watching as the black SUV disappears in the
distance, trying to control the sting in my eyes.
I blink with a frown. “Where is he going?” Acting as if it didn’t just hurt
me that Ezekiel ignored me like that. As if that gave an extra nudge into this
weird emptiness I feel.
“The meeting, remember? And besides, he isn’t coming in that often
anymore now that the Landrey deal is almost finalized.”
It all rushes back as my chest constricts, and a sharp pain emerges. I
clutch my chest, trying to breathe slowly as tears cloud my vision.
“Holy shit,” Johnny curses.
“What?” I grit as the hurt ebbs away.
I meet his sorrow-filled eyes. He takes my hands, and I almost move a
step back. This is the first time he’s dared to touch me after I got those
weird texts from my stalker. My shadow.
He knows. He knows that my stalker doesn’t want me anymore. But how?
How the fuck does he know?
“What happened?” I whisper.
 His lips remain sealed as he pulls me into the building.
“Johnny?” I try to take my hands back, but he won’t release his hold.
The moment we step into the elevator he speaks again.
“Everything will go back to how it was. Your job will become somewhat
boring again.” He chuckles and I sigh in defeat.
“Until Ezekiel comes back.”
His lips form a thin line as the sorrow in his eyes expand.
I huff. “Ezekiel does what he wants. No one made him come here.”
He swallows. “Maybe.”

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 Chapter Twenty-Seven

O
f course she’s late.
My sister wanted to have lunch and now I’ve been standing here in
front of the building, waiting for the last fifteen minutes. There isn’t a
single text from her and if she makes me wait any longer, my break will be
over.
I look around, missing that strange feeling again. How could I even miss
someone who made me feel scared? It’s twisted and wrong… yet it used to
feel right, too.
I wanted to be left alone, live my life in safety and freedom, and yet here I
am, missing my freak. My shadow.
Because he did make me feel wanted.
Maybe I can still have freedom, have that feeling and safety I crave, with
my shadow in my life.
I take out my phone and do something I really, really shouldn’t.
ME: Don’t you miss me?
 I want to feel something, anything other than this emptiness that is
expanding. And even though I want to text him that I need him, I play into
his games.
My nerves are climbing, and I can’t help but smile as the two marks
beside the text turn blue.
UNKNOWN: Why would I?
Ouch. That hurt me more than it should. There’s definitely something
wrong with me, and still, I type another text.
ME: Because you never got your answer.
What am I doing? I shouldn’t do this. I shouldn’t taunt him like this. Do I
want to get killed? Fuck.
UNKNOWN: I learned everything I needed.
Learned? What kind of response is that?
ME: Some things can’t be learned by watching.
Oh no. Why, just why? I have no restraint. Zero. Nada.
UNKNOWN: Who said I only watched?
There it is. That sense that prickles through me, that makes me feel alive.
That small bit of fear he made me crave.
ME: You never showed your true self.
Excitements bubbles inside me, overthrowing the small glint of fear.
UNKNOWN: Maybe I was wrong.
My thumbs work fast, not a second passes before my text pops up.
ME: I know you are.
And my smile widens, as I hope his does too.
UNKNOWN: You do still have some thorns left to cut with, at least
today.
 All these texts show I have no control, but he makes me want even more
than I had planned.
He helped me in a way. I almost gave up on my plan after Greg found out.
I got so scared; I didn’t want to leave anymore. But my shadow made sure I
stayed true to myself. He made sure I didn’t drown.
I have nothing to respond and decide to head back to the office. It seems
my sister has stood me up. Nothing surprising there.
As the elevator door closes, a hand reaches between, forcing the door to
open again.
A woman I’ve seen before slips in, one I will never forget.
Esmeralda.
She is about to press the button and stops when she sees it’s already been
pressed. It seems she is going to the same floor.
At least she is taking the correct elevator this time.
I step to the side, putting some distance between us, but then she turns
toward me. Her gaze wanders over my body, and I glare back.
“Is something wrong?” I ask, a bit annoyed by her actions. I’m unable to
pretend today. Everyone is getting on my nerves now. As long as I don’t cry
without reason again…
She purses her lips. “You seem different.”
I huff and shake my head. “And why is that?”
“Ezekiel.”
“He’s my boss,” I say with a shrug.
“Right.” Her lips curve, and I lean slightly back.
I hope she isn’t going to wait for him upstairs. Even though it was quite
boring this morning, I don’t want to pretend that I am open to being social,
not today.
 The ding of the elevator echoes around us, and I quickly get out. I don’t
wait for her to follow me, but with her long legs, it’s too easy for her to
keep up.
Where is Johnny when you need him?
“Do you want me to call him?” I ask, already dreading the answer.
She replies with a perky, “Yes.”
I sigh in defeat, not knowing if I should even bother. So, instead I take my
phone and send Johnny a quick text before I call my boss that his special
friend is here.
ME: Esmeralda.
I know it doesn’t need any explanation. Johnny will get it, and seeing the
text bubbles that show is answer enough.
JONNY: Where?
Well, not enough apparently.
ME: Here.
“Call him.” Her voice snaps me from my phone, and she stares me down.
“Just checking if he isn’t in a meeting.” I muster up my best fake smile
and take a seat behind my desk.
Johnny doesn’t respond, and I dial Ezekiel’s number. The dial tone fills
my ear two times before he picks up.
It almost seems as if she can hear. She steps closer, and that creepy smile
is back tenfold.
“Rose.”
“Sir, sorry for interrupting you, but I have someone here for you. She
wonders if she should wait until you are back.”
“I’m not coming back to the office.”
His words sting, but I push away the pain, unsure what to make of it.
 “I will let her know.”
His breathing fills my ear, and I wonder if I should hang up. I clear my
throat, turning to Esmerelda. “He’s not coming, you shouldn’t wait here for
him,” I tell her with the phone on my ear.
She crosses her arms and scans around. “Can he call me back?”
Ezekiel’s breathing changes, becoming louder. Noises in the background
follow, and I decide to hang up.
“If he has time, he will contact you. I will put in his schedule.” I grab the
mouse for my computer and do as I said.
My phone buzzes, and Ezekiel’s name pops up, but I quickly silence and
turn it off, not wanting her to see.
“Thank you,” she says with a sigh.
I wait for her to leave, but she scans around her once more.
“You are alone here?”
She moves closer and leans against my desk.
“No, Johnny is coming up.”
She looks at the elevator and knows I’m lying. Nothing is indicating
anyone is coming, but what does she want to do? Hit me for doing as she
asked me?
“You can find your way out, right?”
She hums. “Or you can give me something to eat.” Her smile widens. “I
think that’s why you’re here. For Johnny.”
“To feed him? Trust me, he doesn’t want my cooking,” I retort with a
laugh.
She tsks, “That wasn’t what I meant.”
I sigh and focus on my work, or at least pretend I am. There isn’t anything
to do when Ezekiel isn’t here.
 He even locked me out of his schedule.
“Esmeralda, it’s time for you to go.”
She bends closer, her gaze wandering over my neck. “I wonder how you
taste.”
Taste? Why does that sound familiar?
“Ah look at that. I won’t be your first.”
My brows knit; confusion rises. “What are you talking about?”
Her lips break out into a serpentine smile. “Oh, sweet little human. When
moments feel familiar it is because they have happened before. You just
forgot. I can help you remember; you only have to give me something in
return.”
Remember?
“No, thank you.” I want nothing she offers, and even though Ezekiel and I
are nothing more than boss and employee, I do trust him. I even trust
Johnny.
The soft ding of the elevator sounds, and she edges back.
Johnny rushes toward us. “Esmeralda,” he warns.
“Till next time.” She smiles sweetly, but I know better. This woman is bad
news.
As she talks with Johnny while he almost pushes her out the door, I grab
my phone. My eyes widen when I see the number of missed calls from
Ezekiel.
I quickly call him back, and he picks up immediately.
He says gruffly, “Never, never do that again. Always answer when I call,
Rose.”
“Well, there will be more moments when I can’t really pick up the phone,
sir,” I retort, shaking my head. “Rose, behave.”
 I snort at his words. “Or?”
“Don’t make me come there.”
“You won’t come.”
“Don’t test me,” he snarls.
“You are never coming back, I know that. And that’s okay. But nothing
happened.”
“Did she touch you?”
“No, she didn’t. She wanted to taste me, whatever that means.”
“Rose,” he warns.
“Yes?” I roll my eyes. His warning tone usually does the trick, but not
today.
“Only today.” And with that, he hangs up.

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 Chapter Twenty-Eight

I
have done nothing other than stare at my screen while the clocks ticks
on. I want to leave. I want to go home. But there isn’t anyone there for
me. Lucy is at school, and I don’t feel the need to see Greg more than I
already have to.
I hate that I don’t know how the meeting went, or that my job suddenly
went back to how it was. But maybe it’s a good thing. I don’t think I would
have been any use to Ezekiel today.
My lips curl as my eyes drift to Ezekiel’s office.
Ezekiel did give me permission to be bad today. Only today.
With the need to feel something other than emptiness, I rise and walk
toward the glass wall, shielding his space from the rest of the floor.
I press my palm on the cold glass and push the door open. My smile
widens when nothing happens. No alarm goes off, no angry Ezekiel storms
in. My eyes are focused on the glass liquor bottle as I move closer.
Taking a seat in one of the lush leather chairs, I pour myself a drink. Fuck,
these chairs feel like heaven.
 With the glass against my lips, the scent of whisky invades my nose.
A familiar feeling rises. My head starts pounding, and I clench my eyes
shut.
“I need to talk to you. I need to explain.” Ezekiel’s voice surrounds me,
and my eyes snap open, only to see I’m still alone.
I shake it off and take a sip of the whiskey. The burn cascades down my
throat, and I lean back in the chair.
“Little mouse.” I jump up, the glass shattering to the ground as I hear that
nickname. My shadow.
He’s here.
It can’t be.
My heart races, my breath quivers, and I don’t dare to blink. I can’t sense
him; nothing is warning me that he’s here, but I heard him.
That stupid nickname.
Mouse.
A tiny, cute creature that can’t do harm. I huff as I carefully grab the glass
shards from the ground and toss them in the bin. Ezekiel is definitely going
to notice I was in here now.
But as he said, only today.
I thought Ezekiel and I had something, not a relationship but… well, I
don’t know actually. It felt nice being around him, even when he
overstepped his boundaries. Taunting me with his touches, testing me.
My brows pinch as it reminds me of my shadow. He has the same actions,
the same urges.
Could it be that they are the same person?
I laugh at the thought. Why would a powerful man like Ezekiel follow me
around like some creep? Would I be angry if they were the same person?
 I shake my head, grab the other glass and pour another drink. With the
glass in hand, I wander around his office.
My fingers brush over Ezekiel’s leather chair, and I take a seat, gently
swirling around it.
“This will only hurt a little bit. You will be fine.” Ezekiel voice comes
again, but I can’t recall when he said those words.
Taking another sip, I close my eyes, wanting to be taken away and hear
his voice again.
“Accept the rejection. Be free, Rose.”
Freedom.
Putting the now empty glass on his desk, I rise from his chair and grab my
stuff to go home.
There is nothing for me here, and that phone isn’t going to ring anyway.
I know he wanted to take me home, but I can do that myself. I don’t need
him, I don’t need anyone. Okay, maybe I need Johnny seeing he has my car
keys.
I grunt in defeat, and my eyes drift over to the elevator. Tension in my
neck rises, and I let it lead me.
Will Ezekiel be mad if I use his?
“Screw it,” I mumble as I push the button.
I balance on my heels, feeling the liquor buzz inside me. Perhaps I
shouldn’t be driving.
The elevator dings, and the doors open without a sound. That’s how he
always sneaked inside. This thing doesn’t make a sound, nothing other than
that soft ding.
I step inside and graze my fingers over the wall. It looks the same as the
other one: spotless, with not a fleck of dust in sight.
 But the smell.
It smells like Ezekiel.
I inhale deeply without shame and lean against the back wall. Without my
doing, the door closes, and the elevator moves. A giggle escapes me as I
hum, knowing I won’t drive anywhere when the alcohol kicks in.
Now I know why he likes his drink so much. I feel great.
The doors open, and I peek through my lashes, just enough to see who
stands there.
“Fuck, sorry.” I push off the wall. It’s too fast, and my balance falters.
Strong arms wrap around me, and he lifts me back inside, until I’m caged
between his body and the wall behind me.
“Rose, what did you do?” Ezekiel asks.
“You said I could be bad today, sir.”
He grumbles and holds me up. “How much of that stuff did you drink?
You shouldn’t have, Rose. It’s not made for you.”
“I know, but it tasted really good. And I heard you.”
He glared down at me, his brows knitted together. “You heard me?”
I nod with a smile on my lips. Without meaning to, my hand crawls up
until my fingers brush over his sharp jaw. He doesn’t move, nothing other
than the slight tick in his jaw.
“I’m sorry,” I murmur, and he tenderly grabs my hand.
“For what?”
“For liking you, I know I shouldn’t. You’re my boss and—”
He presses his finger to my lips. “Don’t like me. I’m not a nice guy.”
I immediately shake my head, still dizzy. “But you are.”
“Come, I will take you home, and tomorrow I want you to be you again.”
“Okay,” I breathe, my leg rubbing against his.
 Where the hell did my self-control go? Or shame, just anything to keep
me in check? But who could blame me as this tall, strong man towers over
me, pressing me against the wall with his body?
And especially since I felt like shit the entire day. This moment finally
makes me feel whole again.
Stupid, I know.
However, I want to hold onto it, just a little bit longer before I go back in
my weird slump.
One I don’t have an explanation for.

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 Chapter Twenty-Nine

T
he walk of shame. Fuck, how could I have behaved like that
yesterday? I had hoped I wouldn’t remember, but I remember
everything.
I told him I have a crush on him.
I groan as I type away on the computer, not daring to look at my boss
sitting behind his desk. Johnny was wrong, Ezekiel did come back. But
perhaps he should have stayed away.
“Rose, I need to show you something.” His stoic and stern expression has
softened, and it makes my skin crawl. Is this it? Is he kicking me out? He
must have noticed the missing glass. That has to be it.
I wring my hands together as I rise from my chair, ready to hear all he has
to say as I cautiously walk into his glass office.
He gestures to the chair beside him, and I hesitantly take it. A big brown
envelope balances between his hands as his eyes are fixated on it.
“It’s not my place, but I believe you should know.”
 He slides the envelope over his desk until it’s on my side. I don’t know if
I even want to know what’s inside. Maybe it’s about my stalker? Oh crap,
he knows. He knows who follows me, he has to know, seeing as Johnny
knows.
Ezekiel clears his throat. “I need you to open it.”
With a deep breath, I grab it and rip the side off. As I peek inside, I see
pictures stacked on pictures. My cheeks redden, recognizing the outline of
my house, that tree my shadow likes.
The inside, my bedroom. I don’t want to look.
I let them all fall out, and then I see it.
It’s not me, it’s not my shadow.
It’s Greg, with a brunette.
My sister.
Doing all kinds of positions, everywhere in the house. Jeez, even in our
bed. Disgust and hurt roam inside me, ready to burn me but what comes
first is anger. I always knew, but seeing it like this hits different.
My eyes snap at Ezekiel, and I rise to my feet.
“This is not your place.”
Quickly, shuffling the pictures back in the envelope, I shake my head.
How could he cross this line? I never asked him for this. I never needed this
from him. How dare he poke in my life.
He blinks, his hands reaching for mine. “Rose, I had to.”
Pulling away, I get up. “No, this is crossing a line!”
“You came here with bruises on your body. How could you expect me not
to do anything?”
My jaw clenches, and the anger bubbles higher. “Not your place,
Ezekiel!”
 He went too far with this, and he can’t expect me to be okay with that.
“You have to leave him.” His voice is steady and balanced, not at all how
I’m feeling right now.
“Don’t you think I know that?!” I seethe.
He is silent, not knowing what to say next it seems.
“I would have expected you to show me pictures of my stalker.” I tilt my
head to the side and watch him closely.
And still, he doesn’t say anything. But I see the change in his eyes.
With a sigh, I turn, ready to leave.
“Leave him. I can get you a place to stay.”
“No.”
He calls after me as I storm out of his office. I toss the envelope in the bin
and grab my stuff. I don’t care that I have work to do.
He fucked up by digging into my personal life. That isn’t his place.
He wasn’t supposed to find out I was weak. That I choose to stay with the
one who hurts me. But who am I kidding? He already knew; I saw the pity
in his eyes, the same I saw in Johnny’s.
They both knew, but it isn’t their problem to fix.
It’s mine.
I can blame it all on finances, and yes that is a big part of it. But if I truly
wanted out, truly out, I would have left already.
This was what I already knew. I knew Greg was cheating. I just pretended
I didn’t to protect my heart.
Maybe Ezekiel is right; I should leave. I know he means well, but I don’t
want it. I want to be in control over my life and not make choices because
of what others say.
 As I pull up at my house, I see my sister’s car. They aren’t expecting me
home yet, and I fear what I might find when I step inside.
However, this is it. I have to fight and stop hiding.
My brows crease together as I see my little girl sitting on the porch,
holding onto her arm tightly as she rocks back and forth.
My body moves on autopilot, running towards her as my instincts take
over. She is hurt.
Soft sobs escape her as I fall to my knees before her.
“What happened? Why are you outside?”
She stammers, “I fe-fell, Mommy.”
I take her hand, and a chill rakes through me when I see the lump on her
arm. It’s broken, it has to be.
“How did you fall, honey?”
“Th-the st-st-stairs,” she mumbles as she diverts her gaze.
She is lying. She only stutters when she hides something. Why is she
lying?
I hum and tuck her hair behind her ear. “Where is Daddy?”
She releases a shaky breath. “Basement.”
“And why are you here and not with him?”
She shakes her head. “I’m not allowed to go there if Aunty is here.”
My heart stammers when I realize what that means.
“Come on, let’s get your coat and we go to the doctor.” I muster a smile,
forcing the rage back. As I rise to walk past, her next word stops me.
“N-no.”
 I say nothing as I lift her up and walk to the car. I don’t think. I can’t. I
have to act.
My beetle rumbles to life as I head to the hospital. She tries to stay strong,
hiding her tears, just as I always did.
This is on me. I hide. Never showing my true feelings. And now she is
doing the same. Pretending to be okay, while she is in pain and afraid.
I never thought he would hurt her. How could I have been so blind?
Everything passes in a blur, the wait in the emergency room, the repeating
questions as I see the looks on the doctor’s faces. They have seen this kind
of break before.
She is all I live for, the reason why I work my ass off. But I have to
change.
She picks a bright pink cast, and a beaming smile forms on her face as she
gets to pick a lolly from the sweet nurses. They look at me with pity, and I
hate it. But the thing I hate most is that my baby is in pain.
A pain she should never have to experience.
I failed as a mother.
But I will fix it.
My phone buzzes for the first time since I took her with me. I laugh when
I see it’s not even my husband, her father.
That ass is probably still fucking my sister.
“Does Daddy hurt you, like he hurts me?” I ask, ignoring the text from
my unknown friend.
“N-no.”
“He won’t hurt you again. I promise,” I pause, hating what I’m about to
do. “Once we are home, grab your school bag and put your bunny inside it.
We are going on a little vacation.”
 She says nothing, as there is nothing to say.
We have to leave. We should have left months ago, years even. I never
should have told him I was pregnant.
My sister’s car is still in front, and the lights in the house are dimmed.
They’re probably still in the basement. They have to have been at it for
hours, but I hadn’t expected anything less. I work late most of the time,
trying to get as many hours in as possible.
Before I step out of the car, I take my phone, reading the message.
UNKNOWN: Are you hiding from me?
I snort and toss it aside. I don’t know what I was expecting, but it wasn’t
that.
“Come on, sweetie.” With our fingers intertwined, we go into the house.
The silence makes my skin crawl, and I usher Lucy upstairs.
My steps are slow, not wanting to make a sound until I stand before the
basement door. The door that leads to Greg’s mancave. Or should I say, his
playroom. My hand hovers over the knob for a second as I unleash the rage
inside me. My jaw clenches as I swing open the door.
I expect to hear a moan, something, but all I hear are soft mumbles and
laughter. I storm down the stairs as I follow the sounds.
The red painted walls, the old couch against the wall and a foosball table
in the center.
“Hey sis, you’re home early.” My sister walks closer with a sweet smile
on her lips.
I don’t think, I won’t let myself think before I lash out. My fist connects
with her jaw and she tumbles back until she hits the wall.
Greg yells at me, anger radiates from him as he comes closer. Blood fills
my mouth as he punches me, but all I can do is laugh. I hate him. I hate him
with everything I have.
He doesn’t have any power over me anymore. He lost it once he decided
to touch our daughter. My daughter.
Another hit comes, and I fall back.
My sister tries to call him off, but he won’t listen.
He never listens.
“You dirty fuck! You touched her. You hurt my little girl and broke her
arm!” I lunge and grab him.
I’m weak, and I know it. I can never truly win, but I will try. I will fight
for once. Show him and my daughter you have to fight back.
No one is allowed to touch you, hurt you.
I made that mistake. I gave up. I forgot what my father always told you.
If they hit you, you hit them back, again and again until they can’t get up.
No one touches you.
And that is what I do. In a blinded rage, I throw punch after punch as
screams leave me. Everything I held back comes out. Until I feel arms
around me, pulling me back from my prey.
“Let me go!” I screech, kicking in the air, but the grip around me won’t
falter.
Greg doesn’t come closer, and it takes me a moment to realize why. The
scent of burned wood and ashes fills my nose and his silky voice follows.
My shadow stands behind me, holding me back. “What did he do, little
mouse?”
My chest is heaving. “He hurt my daughter.”
He hisses, “What do you want?”
Taking a shaky breath, I say my darkest thoughts, “I want him dead.”
He groans behind me. “Close your eyes.” And I do. Clenching them shut.
 I don’t know why I don’t struggle. Maybe it’s because at this moment I
feel safer with my shadow than my husband.
Screams follow as I remain frozen to the spot. Pained whimpers, muffled
cries, and then nothing. Some soft shuffling, but nothing more.
I peek through my lashes, fresh blood coats the ground and walls, but
there are no bodies. I blink, scanning around until I turn to stare at my
shadow.
He wears a tight fitted suit, his face shielded from me with a black mask,
shark hors curve up and I swallow thickly.
His lips curves as he inches closer. “They’re not dead yet. Let’s see just
how deep your thorns cut.”

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 Chapter Thirty

I
’m not done, not even close. Nothing can stop this anger boiling inside
me. Not even as Lucy leans against me while we sit in the back of a
black SUV. It reminds me of the one Ezekiel has, but I know it’s not the
same one. His has a scratch on the back of the driver’s seat, whereas this
one is spotless.
“Where are we going, Mommy?” Lucy whispers beside me, her voice
tinged with fear of the unknown.
I hold her closer to me. “I don’t know yet.”
I have to be honest, I know this is stupid. I went willingly. I got in the car
with Lucy. But I have to believe he’s not the monster Greg is.
If he wanted to hurt me, truly hurt me, he already would have.
He had plenty of opportunities. He watched me sleep, he was in my bed.
He had all the time in the world.
And yet he didn’t do anything.
I don’t know when I dozed off, but the sound of gravel lures me awake,
and my eyes slowly flutter open. Just in time to see where we’re headed.
 Holy shit.
This man is more powerful than I could have ever imagined.
A pitch-black Victorian mansion awaits us. The big steel gates open
without a sound, and I take it all in.
The grass is mowed to perfection. We crest a slight hill, and then at the
center is a massive villa of darkness. Only a few lights are on, but that isn’t
what lures my attention.
It is the thick iron chains I see lying in the grass to my left. An open collar
at the end, a size that is much too big for a dog. What kind of pets does he
have?
I don’t see my shadow anymore, as someone I never met opens the door
and gestures me to get out. His bulky frame towers over me as I grip Lucy
tighter.
“Eyes down,” the big bulky man says, and I oblige, following in his
footsteps over the gravel path.
The front door opens, and a woodsy scent wafts my way. I peek up as we
step inside, my steps don’t make a sound on the dark marble floors and I
glance at the covered paintings. It seems all the paintings on the walls have
been shielded from prying eyes with flimsy white linens.
My lips curve into a smile as I can already guess what is behind them.
This place is flawless, and the only thing out of place are the blankets,
shielding the face of my shadow. I’m sure of it.
He made sure that I wouldn’t find out who he is. And that’s okay.
Do I even want to know who it is?
I snort and the man in front of me comes to a stop.
“Nothing,” I mumble. But it isn’t nothing. Of course, I want to know who
my shadow is, who my lurking friend is. My mind takes me back to
Ezekiel, and I don’t know why.
Maybe it’s because of the vibe this place gives.
Luxury, old money. Status. Wealth.
Power.
True power.
This place is a maze, and I can’t even remember how to get back to the
front door.
“Here it is.” The man gestures to the open door on my right, and I
hesitantly take a step inside with my sleeping girl in my arms.
The first thing I notice is the bouquet of black roses on the table in the
center.
“Don’t leave the room. It won’t be appreciated,” is all I get before the
door closes. But as I turn, I see it. I see a familiar face standing in the hall.
Fucking Johnny.
What does it mean that he’s here? Does this mean this is Ezekiel’s house?
Are my thought correct?
I tuck Lucy in bed and begin to pace around the room. Well, it looks more
like a damn apartment. A kitchen, large bathroom, living area, and a huge
bedroom. I don’t want to leave Lucy alone, but I still try to open the door.
It unlocks without problems, but I remain rooted to the spot.
I won’t leave, but I can take a peek.
Slowly, I open the door and scan the dark, empty hallway. I wait for that
familiar feeling of my shadow watching, but it doesn’t come. He isn’t here.
That sixth sense of mine has been off since that weird day, the day I was
late, and Ezekiel had to pick me up because I started crying without reason.
Ever since that day, my senses have been off.
 And my stalker had left me, or at least I thought. But it seems he still
watched me; I just didn’t notice. And he saved me… saved us…
“Rose.” I jump when Johnny’s voice comes from my right.
“Fuck,” I curse and turn to see him. “How long have you been standing
there?”
“Since you went inside.” He chuckles and by the way he stands by my
door I wonder…
“Are you guarding the door?”
“No,” he says, sounding offended.
I raise a brow. “Are you watching me like a creep?”
“No, I’m—”
“Guarding the door.”
He groans and leans against the doorframe. “Like you did with the phone.
We all have our jobs.”
I laugh. “I don’t know why, but I didn’t see you as a door guarder.”
His jaw clenches, and I can’t stop the smile that curls my lips.
“Stop, Rose.”
“What, stop teasing? You never stopped.”
I don’t know why I’m so calm with all this, but I am. “Why didn’t you
ever tell?”
“What?”
“That you needed help.”
I sigh as I know he’s talking about Greg, my sister and my daughter. “It
wasn’t your problem to solve.”
His eyes are soft as he shifts on his feet. “Things might have been
different if you told me.”
 “I thought you all had a knack for reading my mind.” My brows arch,
eager to lighten the mood.
“Only when you think hard enough,” he taunts.
I shrug. “Still, it was my problem.”
“No, it wasn’t. You were never supposed to be w—” Heavy footsteps
come our way, and Johnny swallows his words.
I glance into the darkness, waiting for whoever it is to reveal themselves,
but no one shows. Still, I know he’s there, not because I feel him watching
but because of how Johnny keeps his mouth shut.
“Get some rest, Rose,” Johnny says as he ushers me inside and closes the
door.
The turmoil and confusion in my mind won’t silence as I realize what he
was saying. And it has to be true, that Ezekiel and my shadow are the same
person.
I curl beside Lucy and focus on her peaceful breathing. Not daring to look
at the roses or out the window.
I don’t want to see him, not when my anger rises up again, feeling this
sense of betrayal coming with it. I turn on my back, and I see a nick in the
headboard of the bed. Familiarity washes through me, and Esmeralda’s
words echo within me.
“When moments feel familiar it is because they happened before. You just
forgot.”
I move slow, not wanting to wake up Lucy as I crawl closer. Something is
carved into the wood, but without a light I can’t see what.
I brush my fingers over it, and it feels like four numbers.
0419
And then I feel more.
 Lower.
0416
What do these mean?
My breathing changes as I feel two letters carved beside it, like initials.
My heart stammers in my chest as I reach for my phone, the harsh screen
light makes me squint, and I turn it.
Everything shatters inside me when I see my own initials staring back at
me.
RW
Have I been here before?
Quickly I type a text to Johnny, hoping he will finally answer me truly.
ME: Why don’t I remember?
I wait in angst; my fingers shake as the text bubbles appear.
JOHNNY: Don’t ask questions you don’t want the answers to.
Holy shit.
My phone falls from my fingers as I recite the numbers in my head. Are
they indicators of the time? But why would that matter?
Oh no, dates.
Dates I have been here, kept here.
April 16th, April 19th…
That was just a few days ago, two days before I had my breakdown.
Oh my god.
What has he done to me?

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 Chapter Thirty-One

Ezekiel

S
he is here again; she isn’t supposed to be. But just as I thought, I can’t
stay away. I broke her on purpose. And now all I want is to make it
better.
Can I? Can I fix it?
Will it make her feel better to see her beloved husband hanging in my
basement? Groaning and pleading for his life as the chains on his wrists cut
his skin?
We will find out, and maybe then I can make it better. By setting her truly
free.
I can make her forget, like I have done plenty of times before. It will be as
if I never existed, neither her husband nor her bitch of a sister.
She will have what she wants. I thought it was death, but she wants more.
She told me so many times.
More, more, more.
I never understood it, but now, I do.
 I hoped with the tether between us shattered, she would feel better. That I
would feel better.
But all I feel is empty. There is no life without her, no light. I never knew
I needed it. I lived in the darkness for too long. But now as I’ve had a taste
of that sweetness, I crave more.
She fell for me, her creepy shadow and her boss, never knowing we were
two sides of the same coin. And I haven’t been able to feed after her. Every
time I try, I can’t keep it down.
My body begs for her blood, only hers. And it’s maddening.
My gaze drifts to her daughter sleeping peacefully in her arms. She is the
spitting image of her mother, and I don’t know if I can protect her.
Children, well, they don’t have a purpose for us. Nothing other than to
grow up and be used for whatever we please.
She stirs, her heartbeat changes, and I realize she is waking up. I don’t
stop it; not like I have plenty of times before.
Ensuring no one caught me, stopped me from reaching my prey.
“Are you going to help Mommy?” the little girl asks, rubbing her eyes.
I tilt my head. “And how can I help her?”
“Mommy always says we need someone to be there for us. Mommy is
that for me. Will you be that for her?”
Yes.
That is the response that comes to mind, but she doesn’t want me, not the
real me. I already told her I’m no hero.
I’m the villain in every story.
“Your mommy doesn’t need me.”
A yawn forces her to crawl back against Rose, but before she dozes off,
she whispers, “She does.”
 I step back, fading into the shadows as the words echo inside me.
She does.

“You had to hurt her and reject her?” Johnny snarls as he paces in my
home office.
“Johnny,” I warn. Rose might have talked back to me, but I don’t accept it
from my right hand.
“She loves you.”
I shake my head. “She doesn’t.” I would have known; I would have seen
it. The thoughts. They aren’t there. She liked my plays; she liked my touch.
But that was it.
“She kept it from us, how her husband treated her. She knew how to
shield her mind from us.”
I nearly scoff. I saw the bruises, yet I did nothing. I healed her by putting
some drops in the hot chocolate I made, but that was it.
“I knew,” I say, ashamed I didn’t kill her husband sooner. I’m an idiot. I
was so blinded by my goals that I pushed everything else aside.
He glares at me. His jaw clenches, but he doesn’t speak up, knowing I
won’t stand for it.
“There is no love between us, Johnny. I will help her with this, but that is
it.”
His shoulder slumps. “She remembers.”
“What do you mean? That’s impossible.” I stare at him.
“Yet somehow, she does. It might have something to do with the fact she
is supposed to be our queen.”
 I groan. “She can never be queen. We can’t turn her. You know what will
happen.”
“I can turn her.”
I chuckle. “And have her loyal to you? Don’t forget I know the plans you
had for her before I claimed her.”
He huffs and takes a seat. “She would have liked it,” he mumbles.
“Sure, she would.” I shake my head, taking another sip of my whisky to
keep my hunger down. I have to feed; I’m getting weaker. But I can’t feed
on her. Because if I do, I can’t control what will happen next.
Johnny levels me with a glare. “Give her a choice, Ezekiel.”
“There is no choice to give.”
“Maybe she wants to stay,” he insists.
“And then I have to watch her grow old and die because she is a weak
human.” She would have a target on her back, and so would her daughter.
She would never forgive me if anything happened to her.
Johnny sighs. “Or you can clean her mind and set her free. I can help with
yours.”
Help with mine? Shield the memories I have from her? Impossible.
“You’re not strong enough to touch mine.”
“Perhaps if you’re too heartbroken after she leaves, I can help you.” He
grins like the bastard he is.
“Watch it,” I snarl. Heartbroken? I don’t love her.
I don’t.
Gulping down the remainder of my drink, I rise. “Take her downstairs.
Let’s see how wicked our queen can be.”
OceanofPDF.com
 Rose

There is this weight that faded, this panic that has left me. The hollowness
within me has shrunk, and I no longer fear what comes next.
Lucy doesn’t mind being here; the fridge is stuffed with food; there are
enough sweets for an entire month; puzzles, games, everything she’s ever
wanted fill this room.
But she wants to go outside, and I can’t blame her. The only thing is, I
don’t think I’m ready. Not yet.
“Look, Mommy!” she squeals, standing on the balcony.
She doesn’t have the same fear as I do, and it’s beautiful. I didn’t dare to
take a look or step outside, but her, she’s fierce. I don’t know who she got it
from, but I couldn’t be prouder.
As I step beside her, I hear chains rattle from below and follow Lucy’s
gaze.
“Aren’t they pretty?” she beams.
“Honey, let’s take a step back, I don’t want you falling over,” I say with
caution as my eyes remain fixed on the two crocodiles in the grass.
So, that’s what those collars were for. He has crocodiles as pets, fucking
crocodiles. And somehow, it doesn’t surprise me in the least.
It should shock me, I know that. Any sane person would be freaked out by
this, but as the two big green monsters glare up at me, baring their teeth, I
wonder how much it would hurt if they bit you.
“Rose?” a familiar voice says.
 I quickly turn, pulling Lucy behind me. “Johnny.”
He flashes a polite smile. “I’m here to take you downstairs.”
“I’m not leaving my daughter here alone.”
His eyes change as he glares at her, and without warning her eyes close as
her body leans against my leg, and soft snores fall from her lips.
“What did you do?!” I sneer.
“She’s sleeping. She can’t come with us.”
I sputter, “You can’t do this.”
“Rose, she will be fine,” he insists, growing exasperated. “Don’t make me
repeat myself, we have to go.”
I glare at him and lift Lucy to the bed, tucking her in with her bunny as
she continues to sleep peacefully.
“She will wake up in a few hours,” Johnny reassures me, resting his hand
on my shoulder.
I jerk away, give Lucy a soft kiss on her forehead, and then we exit the
room. It feels wrong to leave her behind, but it doesn’t seem I have a
choice.
With a heavy heart, I close the door behind me, following Johnny down
the same hallway as I came in. The maze starts, and the paintings on the
wall are still shielded with white linen sheets.
I’m almost sure about Ezekiel and my shadow, so why bother? Why try to
hide it?
Maybe I could accidentally take one—
“No,” Johnny warns.
My jaw clenches, and my gaze narrows. How does he do that?
Perhaps I can still do it, who says he’s fast enough to—
“I am fast enough. Now stop stalling.”
 I huff and pick up my pace. We head down the stairs, and I recognize
where we are, but we don’t stay here as he takes us down another stairway.
The air around us changes. This coldness, this chill, rakes through my
body.
Johnny gestures to the end of the hall, but I remain rooted to the spot
when I see iron bars filling both sides of the corridor. When I hear a groan
coming from the darkness at the end, I recognize it.
That’s Greg. It has to be. Shit.
Keeping my eyes on Johnny, I cautiously step past him, walking toward
the sound of my husband in pain. It should make me feel something, right?
Worry? Just something.
But now, I want to hear more. I want to hear him beg for once, as he made
me beg, again and again.
Beg him to stop hitting me, to go back to who he used to be. Were we
happy before? No, I don’t believe we were. But it was better than what I
have now.
I turn the corner to see him hanging from the ceiling, chains locked
around his wrists and blood dripping down his arms with every move he
makes.
I want to hurt him.
Punish him for touching me, for touching Lucy.
“Ro-Rose, get me down,” he whispers, his eyes wide, urging me to help
him.

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 Chapter Thirty-Two

I
stand still, knowing I will never help him.
“Rose, come on. Before he gets back.”
He?
My eyes rake over Greg’s body, noticing the bruises and the cuts, but they
don’t seem fresh. It looks like they were from yesterday.
The only fresh blood I see comes from his hands. My gaze travels up, and
I gulp as I realize he has no fingers left.
“Why?” I ask Greg.
“What do you mean why? I’m your husband!” he sputters.
I snort. My eyes snap to his, and a smile tugs at my lips. “A husband. You
think you were that to me?”
He writhes against his restraints. “Yes, I am, now get me the fuck down!”
“A true husband shouldn’t cheat on his wife with her sister!” I yell, my
hands balling into fists.
“What? No, no, that’s not what was happening—”
 “I knew, Greg. I knew all this time that you were fucking her!” I snap, my
body shaking with anger.
He snorts. “What do you care anyway? You never let me touch you!”
“Maybe that was because every time you did I got a new bruise!”
He laughs, blood dripping in his mouth. “I never hit you that hard. I
might’ve lost it a few times, but you have no idea how insufferable you can
be!”
“Me? Insufferable?” I laugh this time, my eyes falling on the silver and
wooden instruments hanging on the wall to his left.
I have no idea what to do as I let my fingers graze over them all.
“Rose, what are you doing?” he asks with a slight tremor in his voice.
One I never heard before.
In the corner stands a bat, and I can’t help but grin. I lift it and pat it on
my other hand, old blood stains cover the wood.
“I’m taking back what you took from me,” I say as I stand before him,
tapping the bat on my thigh.
“Took from you? I never took anything from you.”
“My strength. You made me believe I was weak!” I fling the bat, hitting
him in the stomach.
He coughs and gasps. Words gurgle in his mouth, but I don’t wait. The bat
connects again, and again. All the rage, the heartbreak, the fear, the worry—
everything he made me feel pours out.
His skin reddens and breaks. Fresh blood layers on the bat, my hands, and
I can feel it dripping down my face. Slathering across my skin.
“You.”
I hit him in the face, his head snapping to the side as he groans in pain.
“Don’t.”
 His shoulder.
“Deserve.”
His leg.
“Me!”
Then I turn the bat to hit him where it truly hurts. His balls. He cries out
as I’m panting, wheezing for air, and hit him one last time. Watching his
teeth scatter to the ground as I hear something break. His jaw hangs loosely
and his head falls forward as he loses his consciousness. I peel my fingers
from the bad, dropping it to the ground. My body shakes as I have nothing
left to give.
And then, I feel it. For the first time since that weird ass day.
That small tingle in the back of my neck telling me that my shadow is
near.
“What now?” I ask, my voice breathless.
“Your choice.” He sounds different than usual, more recognizable.
Ezekiel.
“What are my options?”
He laughs and moves closer. “A quick death or a painful one.”
“I don’t know what you did, but you hurt me.”
He’s behind me, and his breath dances over my neck as he whispers, “I
know.”
I want to lean back, I want to go back to how I was, but I can’t. Not as my
husband’s body hangs unconscious in front of me.
“What about my sister?”
“Do you want a go at her?”
“No, you can decide. I don’t ever want to see her again.”
 He hums as I wait for him to move beside me, something to show his
face, to stop this game he has played with me.
I fell for both sides of him, but now I don’t know what to do with it. I
don’t know what I want anymore. This emptiness remains, the same
emptiness he said would become easier to deal with.
But it hasn’t. I don’t know if it ever will.
“Fix me,” I whisper.
“There is nothing to fix. You are perfect.” He pauses, resting his head on
mine. “Now answer my question, what death does he deserve?”
I gulp, hating that I let my anger get the upper hand, knowing that
someday I might regret this.
“A painful one.”
He inhales sharply. “My little devil.”
His nickname has changed, but what hurts me the most is his first word.
“I’m not yours.”
“Sadly, not anymore.”
“Why?” I hold back tears.
I shouldn’t feel this way. This shouldn’t feel like home as his arms wrap
around me and I feel his heartbeat pounding in his chest.
This shouldn’t feel okay as my husband hangs before us, blood dripping
down his body, bruised and beaten. I should feel remorse for what I did. I
should feel scared. But it doesn’t come.
“It’s for your own protection.”
“Bullshit,” I mumble, and his chest rumbles with a deep chuckle.
“You’re my weakness, Rose, and I can’t have you by my side. I can’t have
them hurt you for being with me.”
I snort. “That’s an easy way to say you don’t want me.”
 “That’s not true, and you know it. You might not remember everything
that happened between us, but you can feel it. I can never take that away.”
“I want to remember,” I whisper, relaxing in his hold, giving into this
moment.
“You don’t and you won’t remember this.”
“What do you mean?” I try to turn, but he holds me tighter.
“I have to set you free, but I will always take care of you. I want you to be
happy.”
“Don’t, Ezekiel, please.” I can sense it, that weird buzzing in my mind as
my sight changes, and Greg slowly vanishes as if he were never there at all.
The stone walls fade, and my own living room comes into sight.
“You will be happier without me. Let me take care of you, Rose.”
“But who will take care of you?” My question fills the room and with a
blink I stand here, alone. My shadow is gone.
Lucy is playing with her bunny on the couch, as I wonder what I was
doing.
I glance at my hand, expecting to see something, but there is nothing
there.
Greg. Why am I thinking about him? We broke up years ago, shortly after
Lucy was born. I have never seen him since.
But still, it feels as if I’m missing something.
Something important.

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 Chapter Thirty-Three

Ezekiel

I
had no choice; I can’t have her by my side. This is the only way to
protect her from my world. To protect her from me.
“Take them down,” I order my men, ready to bring Greg to my pets.
They will enjoy his decrepit flesh, as foul as it may be.
My little devil wanted it to hurt, and hurt it will.
“What about the female?” Johnny says quietly, the other men waiting.
“Take her to the witch.” As Rose was my mate, having a soul that is open
to the supernatural, perhaps her sister can be used in my side project.
“You actually did it,” Johnny says as the guards begin to take down
Greg’s body, as well as leave to fetch the woman. “She would be a great
queen, you know that.”
I move from the shadow, stepping through the dimly lit wall and up the
stairs. The damp ground and walls, the stains of blood, and the stench of
death fills me just before the door opens and I step into the foyer of my
house.
 Not a spot to be seen as the sun filters between the thick burgundy
curtains, flowing over the floor.
I sigh as my men drag Greg past me, heading outside and their foul scents
wafts my way, my nose scrunching in disgust.
“I wasn’t going to turn her,” I say to Johnny as he steps beside me. We
keep having the same conversation over and over again.
“You look like shit,” Johnny spits, his expression souring.
I know I do. Still, I can’t keep anything down. She is all I crave.
Even after my first mate, I never felt like this. Never felt as if my soul was
tearing to pieces, taking me down. But we didn’t have the same bond me
and Rose had. Even before I knew we were mates, I was already falling for
her.
I wonder if it weren’t for the mate bond stopping me from my kill,
whether I would actually have killed her.
We will never know.
I follow after my men as I watch Greg stir in their grasp, struggling to
break free. My lip curls as I know he will never touch her again. Hurt her.
He’s weak for hitting his woman. He broke her. But she won’t remember
him and the pain he inflicted; I made sure of that.
“Let me go!” He fights and screams until he sees them. Basking in the
sunlight, my sweet pets. Then his screams stop, and he fights harder when
he sees the blood-stained grass.
I edge past them, petting my precious Lady as she tilts her head up. Her
scales are cold under my touch as she leans closer.
“I hope you are hungry,” I muse as my other pet crawls closer. He’s a
jealous bastard, even tried to kill Lady a few times because of it, but she is a
tough bitch to kill. Her body is covered in scars.
 Dom on the other hand is missing a piece of his tail, courtesy of Lady.
“Cut him loose,” I order my men as I remove the collars on Lady and
Dom. My men don’t necessary like my pets, seeing I use them on those who
dare disrespect me.
Greg scampers away, and Lady locks her eyes on him. I step back and
watch the game play out.
Greg has nowhere to go. He limps with a slow pace as Lady crawls closer.
She likes to taunt her prey, play with them a little bit before she bites down,
just like me.
One of my men speaks, “Sire, Ky Moreno has sent a representative.”
Here we go.
A deafening scream erupts from Greg. Music to my ears. Lady holds onto
his leg tightly, readying herself for her death roll. Now, Greg has no way of
escaping anymore, not with her jaws locked. She rolls until I hear his bone
crack; he isn’t strong enough for this attack.
His leg rips free from his body, and Dom takes this opportunity to strike,
biting down on his shoulders. The screams don’t stop, his heart raging in his
chest, his blood painting the grass in a fresh splatter of red.
Dom does the same, a rapid roll until the screams stop, Greg’s heart
finally giving in. His body goes limp in Dom’s jaws, his body no more than
a corpse in pieces.
There is something pure and beautiful in a kill like this. I cannot help but
admire the gore, the pain that must have accompanied the blood that now
decorates my lawn.
I brush my fingers on the scar on my lower arm, remembering the first
time Lady bit me and tried to kill me. Little did she know that she wasn’t on
the top of the food chain here. But my pets know now.
 With Greg’s remains being eaten, I head back inside, already knowing
what Ky wants. He can’t say no to his mate; they want Valentina and
Xander back.
It should surprise me that it has taken years for them to try to get them
back.
The thick wood doors open as I step into my office. Essex green colored
walls, the scent of freshly plucked roses. A sense of tranquility comes as my
fingers graze over the bookshelves as I walk to my desk. Almost identical
to the one at my city office. Thick mahogany wood, a red chair waiting for
me to take.
Only one thing is out of place.
“Speak,” I sneer as I take my seat.
A Beta wolf glares at me, his black hair tousled back, and his blue eyes
stare me down as his nostril’s flares. Smelling the fresh blood on me. I have
no doubt he heard the screams and now, he’s just trying his best not to show
fear.
But as his swallows thickly, as he wrings his hands together, I already
know the fear that moves inside him, telling him to get out and never come
back.
“T-t-the King and Queen of the Wolves believe it’s time for Valentina and
Xander to be set free.” He breathes sharply, relieved he spit out those words
as I see the tension in his shoulder drop.
My eyes fall on the black roses on my desk and I lean closer, taking one
from the bouquet and roll the stem between my fingers. The thorns cutting
into my skin, but before a drop of blood can fall, the marks heal.
“No,” I say simply.
 It seems he was expecting that, as he nods. “King Ezekiel, we know the
agreement, but we want to open negotiations again.”
I repeat my answer. “No.”
The Beta’s jaw ticks, his eyes shifting around the room and I stare at him,
focusing on his pupils as I try to enter his mind. A buzzing sound rings in
my ears as I can’t get further, louder and louder it becomes until I blink.
I’m blocked it seems.
I chuckle, realizing Ky Moreno is here. He is the only one who can stop
my mind games and play a few of his own.
I close my eyes and lean back in my seat. There is a possibility Ky is here,
walking around without anyone knowing. But he can’t reach my chained
wolves; the witch made sure of that. She spelled the walls so that no wolf
could enter or escape.
Rose isn’t here anymore, otherwise he would have taken her. I don’t know
if Aurora spilled that secret of mine; I can’t be sure.
As I open my eyes again, Johnny comes in the room.
“Go check on Rose.” My words fill his mind, unable to be heard by
another.
“Yes, sire.”
I signal to my guard to take the Beta out. He struggles slightly, not
wanting to leave, knowing he has failed. But I need to find Ky.
I’m sure he’s here. Lurking.
He has the power of the Old Bloods running through him, gifted by
Aurora herself when he was younger. She didn’t know what she did at the
time, that she was creating the monster of the century.
But love changed him.
Weakling.
 “I’m not weak, Ezekiel,” he grumbles.
Slowly, my vision slightly blurs and he appears before me, leaning back
in the chair across from me.
“Nice spells you have.” He laughs as he stares at me, one eye blue and the
other a piercing green.
I shrug. “We had a deal.”
“You know how women can be. I can’t say no to her.”
I hum and shake my head. “We helped you in the war. This was my
payment.”
He sighs and gets up. “We know, and we are grateful for your assistance,
but it’s time we get our pack members back.”
Assistance? I saved them, fucking ungrateful dogs.
I’d wanted to let them die, but I couldn’t have the witches keep Ky’s
powers. They would be unstoppable. That’s at least what I tell myself, when
I know Aurora forced me to help without anyone knowing.
“And still, our deal stands.”
My men walk inside, ready to take Ky past our borders.
A smile curves, and his gaze darkens. This sense of dread consumes me,
and I know Ky has something up his sleeve. He always does, otherwise he
wouldn’t have come.

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 Chapter Thirty-Four

Rose

A
s I’m preparing dinner, the tension in my shoulders refuses to drop.
“Rose.”
I jump and turn. I should scream, I should fear this man but I’m frozen.
“Do I know you?”
He sighs and puts a vial on my kitchen counter. “Yes, you do.”
He edges closer as I remain rooted to the spot. His cold hand gently cups
my face, his thumb brushing over my cheek.
“He was stupid for sending you away. I will make it better,” he whispers,
his lips hovering over my forehead.
My breath is shaky as he presses a kiss on my skin, and his touch fades.
“Take it. It will help you remember. It will help you.”
My eyes go wide. “Remember?”
“Just don’t die. We don’t want you to change.” He grazes his finger over
the vial and steps into the hall, leaving me with my confusion.
What the hell just happened?
 As I hear the front door opening and closing, I don’t dare to wonder why I
didn’t hear him come in.
I grab the vial and open it. A sweet scent fills my nose as I swirl the thick
red liquid.
You should never take something a stranger offers, I know that. I paid
attention to the lectures my mother gave me, but not all of course.
Lifting the vial to my lips, I dip my tongue inside, wanting to know how it
tastes. Because what can one drop do? Sweetness dances over my tongue,
my body tingling, and warmth spreads inside me, coiling low in my
stomach.
Fuck, that tastes good.
“Mommy!” Lucy yells in panic from upstairs. Quickly, I close the vial
and put it in my pocket.
I run to her room as she screams again, almost falling through her door
when I see a woman holding onto my daughter. Her hand is wrapped
around Lucy’s throat as my girl cries, trembling in fear.
“Let her go!” I yell, trying to get closer, but when her grip tightens, I take
a step back.
“Now, now, Rose, don’t do anything stupid,” the woman taunts.
“Who—”
Wait, I know her. I’ve seen her before. And then her name comes up,
Esmeralda.
“I have someone who is dying to meet you. Now play nice, and let’s go
downstairs, before…” she pauses, her grip on Lucy’s throat tightens, and
my daughter wheezes for air.
“I’m coming! Please don’t hurt her.”
 “Good human,” she says sweetly, ushering me to lead the way and so I do.
Walking back down the stairs, and through the front door.
Three cars wait for us outside, all black SUVs. One of them opens, and
my eyes fall on the nick in the leather of the front seat. I have been in this
car before, I’m sure of it.
Esmeralda holds onto my daughter as she sits beside me. I wait for her to
speak, but even now as the cars take off, nothing is said.
Lucy is calm throughout this entire ordeal. The fear I witnessed upstairs
has faded, and now she glances out the window as if nothing important is
happening.
“What is going to happen with us?” I ask Esmeralda.
“Don’t know and don’t care. As long as I get paid.” She laughs and
tightens her grip on Lucy.
“Have I been in this car before?” I’m trying to get more information,
hoping she is willing to share something with me.
“Yes, a few times.”
I lean back, my hand resting on the vial in my pocket.
Perhaps I need to drink it all to know what I missed, what has happened to
me.
We keep heading south, taking some backroads through the forest. I have
never been here before. Never dared to. They say these woods are haunted,
and anyone who steps inside will be lost forever.
When I was little there were these kids, trying to be all brave and stupid.
They went camping, I think, and never came back. I don’t believe anyone
ever searched for them. It was on the news for a little while and then
nothing more.
 Maybe I will meet the one who took those kids, or see who haunts these
woods. As long as my little girl is going to be okay, they can haunt me all
they want. Just don’t touch my daughter.
A few hours pass, and we arrive what almost looks like a fairytale castle.
Large trees surround it, shielding it from prying eyes.
I never knew it was here, had never heard about it.
I don’t have time to take it in as Esmeralda steps out the car with my
daughter. I quickly go after her but am pushed back.
“No!” I scream and fight, trying to get through the man who’s holding me.
Esmeralda glances at me, a smirk plastered on her face as she carries a
sleeping Lucy in her arms. “Don’t, please!”
My head snaps to the side, and I cough from the force of the blow. The
man hit me. He fucking hit me.
“You have to better than that.” I laugh and jump on him, clawing at his
face as I try to get the upper hand. But how can I? I don’t have any fighting
skills; all I have now is rage. “Take me to my daughter!” I hit as hard as I
can. He groans and flings me to the ground, my skin breaking from the
impact with the gravel. I whimper as I try to get up, but he grabs my hair
and lifts me up no matter how much I protest.
“Feisty one.” He grins. His eyes change, a redness swirls through them
and a calmness washes over me. “Behave. I’m not allowed to hurt you too
much.”
My body goes limp, and he tosses me over his shoulder. I can’t fight; I
don’t do anything but hang there as he takes me inside. The scent of vanilla
and strawberries hit me as I gaze around. The high ceilings, the golden
chandelier, the velvet drapes framing the tall windows, all leaving me
mesmerized as the man takes me up the wide spiral stairs.
 The soft creme carpet ensures he doesn’t make a sound as he walks
toward one of the double doors at the end of the hall. The doors open
without a single touch and he steps inside, tossing me on the king sized bed.
“Play nice, or your daughter pays the price,” he warns.
I silently nod and watch him leave. My eyes burn with tears, and I wipe
them away. There is no time to cry, not when they have my daughter.
I gaze around, as my fingers rake over the thick fabric beneath me. The
large windows giving a perfect view to the forest around us and scamper up,
moving closer to get a better look. My hands rest on the cold glass and I
peek down, expecting to see something more. But there is nothing there,
nothing other than the flowerbeds and the small pond in the center.
A sharp pain emerges behind my eyes and images fill me, the man’s eyes
from before reminding me of someone else.
A man I don’t know the name of. Not yet.
I need to remember—I have to try everything I can. I grab the vial from
my back pocket and take another sip, the same warmth spreads inside me,
and the pain in my head and body fade as if it were never there at all.
A man fills my mind, fangs rubbing over his lip as he smiles at me. My
shadow, Ezekiel, Johnny; it is all slowly coming back.
Yet still, it doesn’t feel like all. There is more there, I know there is.
I’m human and they are not. That is what I know. I have no idea what
their plan is, but as Johnny warned me not to die with this red liquid in my
system, an idea comes to mind.
An idea that would level the playing field and make sure no one can touch
my daughter.
OceanofPDF.com
 Ezekiel

The letter I received from Ky rests in my hand, and I stall. I fear what
might be inside, but I already know what’s inside. It’s about Rose.
Even though Johnny checked on her and said she was fine, I can feel it.
They have her.
I was wrong. I should have kept her here. I thought I was doing the right
thing, giving her freedom back. But now her freedom would mean her
death.
It was always my plan, but that has changed. She needs more than death;
she needs to be by my side. She wanted it, to stay with me, and I pushed her
away.
I didn’t want what happened with my first mate to happen again. I didn’t
want to be weak, not again. I cared for my first mate. I loved her. We built a
family, had a little girl. And then, she betrayed me. Conspired with the
Faction to overthrow me, believing I was weak. Because I only had eyes for
our daughter, I did everything I could to ensure her happiness.
However, my daughter was never happy. She believes she deserves the
throne, to be the Queen of the Strix. She has the same ideas her mother had,
and even for me they are too much.
There is this balance we need to maintain, and she doesn’t want that.
She was furious when she found out about Rose, and she saw it sooner
than I did. The same with Aurora. She knew Rose was my second chance.
A chance I never asked for.
 I rip the letter open; two simple sentences fill the page.
Give us Alpha Xander and Luna Valentina back, unharmed, and we will
give you Rose and her daughter, Lucy.
Unharmed.
That’s the thing.
I can’t.
I can’t give them back.
Even if I do, and they see what Xander and Valentina have become, they
will kill Rose and Lucy to hurt me.
“Sire?” My witch’s voice snaps my eyes up. Her hair a sharp blue,
wrapped up, the color is different than the last time I saw her. But if I recall
correctly, she changes her appearance quiet often. Perhaps it’s giving her a
sense of control, seeing she is not allowed to leave this place.
This place we created in our dungeons, behind our cells.
“They are awake?”
She nods and smiles. “And thriving.”
I sigh. I knew what this would mean, but I never meant to get Rose stuck
in the middle of all this. That was the reason I sent her away.
I didn’t want her to be collateral damage in a war that we could never
have stopped.
But ever so slowly, my lips curl. “Good.” As I know Ky won’t win this
little game.

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 Chapter Thirty-Five

Rose

M
y head rings as I’m about to do something stupid, but there is no
one to stop me. I have no idea how one becomes a vampire, but I do
know what Johnny said, and I know that the red liquid I tasted is blood.
My shadow’s blood.
I don’t have all the pieces yet, but this is it. Maybe it’s reckless, I know it
is. Maybe I will leave my daughter behind, but there is only one way to find
out.
I’m done being weak, I’m done being a target. I don’t want to be that
person anymore. I have to become more.
I don’t want to doubt my own thoughts, even if I can’t trust them fully
anymore.
As I look out the open window, glancing down one more time. As if I’m
expecting to see something there. But there is nothing, nothing but a gravel
path leading to the flower beds, filled with red roses.
I take the vial out of my pocket, fearing it might break. It needs more
padding. My lips curve, as I know just the place.
 Pushing it down my shirt, I put it in my bra, hoping the vial would survive
the fall like this.
I’m putting too much faith in the vampire shows I watch, but if Johnny
hadn’t warned me not to die, I wouldn’t be doing this.
“All or nothing,” I tell myself, turn and fall back through the large
window.
You know that feeling you have when you’re going down in a
rollercoaster? It’s worse than that. You go faster now, and you know
nothing will catch you. You know this is going to hurt, and you try to brace
yourself by holding your breath, but nothing will prepare you for it. The air
is slammed out of my lungs as I hit the ground, the gravel cuts through me
and blood pours.
There is a moment of peace, clarity as my heart races. My body twitches
as my heartbeat slows until I don’t feel it anymore.
Shadow, darkness, and that same sense of peace.
I lie here, not knowing how much time has passed. I’m not alive, but I’m
still here. Waiting.
Footsteps approach, and I realize I’m not dead, but I don’t feel pain. Just
weak.
“Mothers do everything for their children, do they not?”
Is that question for me?
“You need to drink the rest.”
My eyes slowly flutter open. My head throbs, and I brush my fingers
through my wet hair as I sit up.
I blink away the fuzziness, pulling the gravel from my bloodstained hair.
I’m not dead it seems, but did it work?
“Drink, Rose. To finish the transition.”
 “Get out of my head,” I whisper, taking out the vial.
A soft chuckle lures my attention, and I glance up, meeting the gaze of a
tall dark-haired man, one eye a sea-blue and the other a forest-green.
“Who are you?”
He laughs and shakes his head. “Ky Moreno.”
I pinch the bridge of my nose. “What are you?”
“Werewolf, and you are almost a vampire.” He eyes the vial and nods for
me to take it. “You died with it in your system and now you have to drink
from the one that sired you.”
My breath is shaky as I realize what I’ve done. But there is no going back
and I empty the vial, drinking the sweet red liquid. Strength rises beneath
my skin, my body trembles slightly from it. The pain in my head fades, and
everything becomes clearer.
“You have my daughter?” I ask as I rise to my feet, stuffing the empty vial
in my pocket.
“Yes, but she is safe.”
“I need her back, Ky!”
He smiles. “I’ve never seen it, a transition. I thought more would
happen.”
“You’re disappointed?” My brows rise as my fingers twitch.
He shrugs. “A little bit, but I do believe you are going to be a great ally.”
“Ally? How could you even think that?” I ball my fist, stopping my
trembles.
“We are both parents, both leaders of our species.”
Leader?
“I’m not a—”
 He tsks, “Not yet. He rejected you, but it is your destiny, and I know a
thing or two about that.”
Ezekiel and me. He didn’t want me, he played with me. Pretended to care.
I should have known, seeing I’m a master at pretending. “I only want my
daughter.”
“And I want my pack members back. He didn’t want to give them up for
you.”
My ribs tighten, squeezing my lungs as his words cut me.
“Ezekiel has two of my friends, and we offered a trade. You for them, and
he said no.”
My ribs tighten further as my heart stammers. It was truly just a game,
and it became more because of our mate bond. A bond he never asked for.
He broke it the day after he knew, and he destroyed me.
I swallow. “And now you want me to get them for you?”
He tilts his head knowingly. “For your daughter.”
“A parent wouldn’t do this to another parent,” I accuse, scanning my
surroundings. Sounds become louder, and my eyesight sharpens. Something
shifts inside me, swirling, strengthening my body.
“They have a son, you know. He deserves his parents.”
I’m not here for them, or their son, I only want my daughter back. “And if
I don’t?” I challenge.
“Then you will never see Lucy again, and you will remain in the cells for
the rest of your life.”
“But will she be safe?”
“A human amongst werewolves and vampires…” he pauses, then smiles.
“Never.”
 I grit my teeth and slowly nod. I don’t have a choice. I will do everything
for her even though there is this voice in the back of my head, telling me to
run.
“Your species is selfish by nature. They never care about their offspring.
Your human side wants to be there for her, but your new side, wants her
gone. Knowing she will be a weakness you can’t have,” Ky explains.
“I would never want her gone,” I snap, my fingers digging into my palms.
“Hold onto that feeling,” he says as he glances at my hands.
My jaw ticks. “What is the plan?”
He gestures for me to follow, and with a slight hesitation, I do.
I knew my life would change drastically when I let myself fall, but was I
ready for it?

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 Chapter Thirty-Six

M
y body weighs me down, every bone pains me as I sulk in my
room. I try to keep moving, hoping I feel better, ignoring the blood
stains on the carpet, the curtains that are scattered around.
My scalp prickles as I keep hearing voices, luring me closer to do
unspeakable things.
And they won, once already.
I tried to stop when this sweet little woman came inside to give me my
feedings. But they didn’t realize I was starving, needing so much more than
that simple glass I was given. Every hour, one glass to keep me in check.
Every time I gulped the contained down, a few minutes later it rose up,
and I hurled the contains in the toilet.
Perhaps, I should have told them but the voices, the voices kept me quiet.
“Just wait,” the voices echo around me. “Take her, take her.” They
become louder and louder until I couldn’t control myself anymore and
ripped that sweet woman to pieces, drinking her dry.
It wasn’t enough. I still need more.
 And now, her lifeless body lies a few feet from me as I wait for the next.
When that door opens, I run and kill them all.
My skin itches, a red rash covering my arms as my teeth burn. Rubbing
my tongue over them, I feel the sharpness, the fangs that want to show
themselves.
Footsteps approach from the hall, and I run to the door. My chest heaving,
my sighs blurs as hunger coils within. A hunger I never felt before.
The door slowly creeks open and I leap without thinking or looking who it
is. Strong hands throw me through the room, my back hitting the wall,
feeling it crumble on impact. I hiss, my gaze snapping up to see Ky glaring
at me, claws replaced his fingernails as he waits for my next move.
“Control yourself, Rose!” he growls, but I don’t listen and lunge again.
My hands and legs wrap around him as his claws puncture my side. I don’t
feel the pain as my fangs rip into his neck, his blood gushing out and I feed.
He grabs my hair, pulling my head from the crook of his neck and snaps
mine.
My body falling lifeless on the ground as I’m unable to move.
“This won’t kill you, but it gives me some time.” He sighs as my vision
dots further, until I see nothing but darkness.

My eyes slowly flutter open as I try to move. Chains rattle, keeping me in

place as the scent of damp ground fills me. My head pounds as I hear the
dark whispers again.
“This is why Ezekiel never turns anyone, they become rabid dogs.” Wait,
I know that voice. I’ve heard it before. That’s Johnny.
 I blink, waiting as my vision sharpens. My gaze travels over the stone
ceiling, water droplets hang from it, falling slowly to the floor.
“We tried different types of blood, even from other creatures it won’t
work.”
I swallow, my throat dry as I flex my fingers.
“When did it start?” Johnny asks, concerns lacing his words.
Ky pauses as I hear him move around. “Second day, why?”
“How was she the first day?” The other footsteps follow as I move my
head, my eyes fixed on Ky.
He shrugs. “Normal.”
Johnny mumbles something under his breath and Ky curses in respond.
“How can we keep that up? You can’t keep that from him!”
“We have to try!” Johnny seethes tossing him a vial, one that looks the
same as the one he gave me.
Wait. Ezekiel’s blood.
“Give it,” I groan. Their eye snap at mine and Ky slowly moves closer.
Blood stains cover his shirt and a scar paints his skin. I grin, knowing I did
that to him as he opens the vial.
I part my dry lips and wait for the red liquid to drip down my throat. That
same sweetness comes, dancing over my tongue and this warmth spreads.
My sore body, the pain within fades and the pressure on my skull, the dark
voices leave.
Clarity comes, realization hitting me that I killed someone.
Tears prickle my eyes as I swallow tickly. “I’m sorry.” My voice a mere
whisper as they glare at me, watching me closely to see how my body
responds to Ezekiel’s blood.
“Told you it would work,” Johnny jokes as he smiles at me.
 Fucking ass, he knew I was taken, he is in on this. Helping them keep me
here and from my daughter. My hands ball into fist, as anger spikes.
“Rose, breathe,” Ky warns.
“You fucking knew they would take me,” I seethe.
Johnny scratches the back of his neck, his eyes drifting to Ky. “I have my
own reasons, Rose. I will explain it once you’re back home.”
Home? What the hell does he think? “And where is my home?”
“With your species,” he mumbles, diverting his eyes from me.
Ky rummages with the shackles and my chains loosens. I sit up, rubbing
my wrists as my glare won’t leave Johnny.
“I can never live with him, not after he broke me like that. He pushed me
away as if I meant nothing.”
He shakes his head. “You mean every—”
“That’s enough,” Ky interrupts. “Johnny, we need more of these vials.”
Johnny’s jaw clenches and he stiffly nods as he turns on his heel, walking
away from us toward the tight stairs in the corner of this dimly lit room.
Ky cups my face, staring into my eyes. My head buzzes as I know he’s
sneaking inside. A second passes and he smiles, showing the slight dimples
in his cheeks.
“That fucker was right.” He laughs. “It seems this might work after all.”
“Might? I killed someone.” My ribs tighten at the reminder, and I blink
away the threatening tears.
Ky just shrugs. “It’s sad, it really is. But we can’t change it now.”
The woman’s death means nothing to him as he looks down at me without
a simple care in the world. The only thing he wants is his plan to succeed,
his idea to get the wolves back to work. It doesn’t matter who dies to get
what he wants. As long as he gets his precious wolves.
 “Don’t look at me like that, I know you’re new to this world but it’s better
to not let yourself get dragged down by these small matters.”
My heart beat slows to a steady pace, my face stoic, without any emotion
I nod. Knowing all too well he has a point, but he forgets one thing.
I won’t forget. I won’t forget the woman I killed and I won’t forget the
words he said.
Patience is what is going to help me, as I know that one day I will make
him remember this, turn the tables and use him for what I want.
“Good, now play nice. Train with us, and I promise you will see your
daughter as much as possible.”
I nod silently again, following along. As I know that is all I can do.
For now.

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 Chapter Thirty-Seven

K
y kept his word; he let me see Lucy every day as long as I trained
with the wolves, getting better at fighting, and every evening I had to
train with him personally.
He can control minds, just like Ezekiel can. It feels different, though. He
tried to explain it as Ezekiel was created having his powers, a demon of the
Goddess of Death and Darkness, but he was gifted the power when he was a
kid.
“Why did you call Ezekiel a demon?” I ask again as we sit on the floor in
this empty room. Not a single piece of furniture, or decoration on the walls.
It’s just him and me.
Ky sighs and glares at me. “It doesn’t matter. You have to focus, Rose.”
“But how can I be a vampire?” I protest, still not understanding.
He pinches the bridge of his nose, a thing he does when he’s annoyed with
me. “You would have to ask him. There isn’t much information about the
beginning of all our species. I just know he’s more than a vampire.”
 Thinking back to what Ezekiel told me when he rejected me. He worked
for some goddess; one he wanted dead.
“Rose, focus,” Ky snaps, and I narrow my eyes at him.
It’s a dance; he snaps at me, eventually threatens to keep my daughter
away, and then I threaten to tell his mate what he’s doing behind her back.
She’s kind to me. Ky made her think I was here willingly to help with the
wolves Ezekiel has. Her sweetness almost makes me forget what a monster
Ky is, almost.
But I know she doesn’t believe a word he says. She knows. A woman
always knows.
“Close your eyes, and try to block yourself from me,” Ky says, urging me
to listen.
He believes if I can keep him out, I can keep Ezekiel out. Let’s hope it
works. But what he fails to realize is that I don’t need his teachings
anymore. With a grin, I rise from the ground as I hear the kids play outside.
Ky doesn’t notice, staring straight ahead as if I am still seated there.
I tiptoe out of our training room and silently close the door behind me.
“Done with training?” Elizabeth’s voice startles me. I quickly turn and
bare my neck.
Elizabeth, Queen of the Wolves. Granddaughter of Aurora. Mated to both
Ky and Izaiah.
The king I haven’t met yet.
She’s stronger than Ky. He might think she’s not, but I believe it’s a
façade, that she wants him to think he’s stronger.
“I think so. Ky doesn’t.” I smile, and she returns one, knowing exactly
what I did.
“Just be back before he notices,” she whispers as she moves past me.
 “I will.” I turn toward the gardens, wanting to take a peek at my daughter.
But as I see her sitting by the window alone, my heart breaks. I sit beside
her, watching the kids play, some in their wolf forms and other in their
human form.
“Why are you sitting here?” I murmur.
She frowns. “I liked it better at Ezekiel’s house.”
How could she like it better there? We were only there for two days, and
she was asleep for most of the time thanks to Johnny’s tricks.
“How’s that, sweetie?”
She shrugs. “It felt like home.”
“We have a home, and we will go back there.”
“I don’t want to go back there!” she yells, surprising me with her outburst.
Ky told me Ezekiel made sure she doesn’t remember what happened in all
those years with me and Greg, and I can’t change that. I can’t change the
tricks he played on her mind. But I do know how it feels, the confusion, the
doubts.
You might not remember, but he can’t change the way you feel. And deep
down, somewhere you know what has happened.
But she does remember Ezekiel’s home, somehow.
“Then we find a new home, Lucy.”
“I don’t like wolves,” she grumbles, and I laugh.
There is no way to keep everything from her, especially since Ky’s kids
like to shift as much as possible.
And I’m sure Lucy will feel like the odd one out as five kids can shift into
wolves and she is the only one who’s human.
“You like Caleb, right?” He’s Ky’s oldest son. The one that keeps staring
at Lucy from a distance.
 He doesn’t say much, but I see them together, and I know he let her sit on
his back once when in wolf form.
She makes a face. “Maybe.”
I smile, grateful that she has at least one friend.
“Good,” I whisper, tugging her closer as I wrap my arm around her.
I sit by her, watching the small wolves play, as I go over my little plan in
my head. It should work; it has to if I ever want to be free and live my life
with Lucy beside me.
“It’s time.” Ky’s voice snaps me out of my stare. Shit, he found out about
my little play on his mind.
I rise and meet his disturbing eyes. I will never get used to them; the
different colors give me the creeps.
I bite my lip. “Are you sure?”
“Seeing as I have been staring at an empty space for the last fifteen
minutes, I will think so,” he retorts.
From the corner of my eye, I see Elizabeth coming closer. I’m sure she
snapped him out of it. That has to be it.
“Don’t let him feed from you,” she warns.
I sigh, hearing the same warning I’ve been getting these last days. “I
know.”
“No, you don’t. The last time he fed on you, you were already on a high.
You never notice how addicting it can become,” Ky says.
“Speaking from experience?” I taunt, and his gaze changes, his wolf
showing itself beneath the surface.
Elizabeth chuckles, taking his hand. “I’m sure he knows how it feels.”
She tugs on his hand, urging his wolf to back down.
 I want to have that someday, the way they look at each other, the love they
have. It’s unbreakable;
I was supposed to have that, I know that now. And maybe when I find my
second-chance mate, I will. For every part of my life, I have been trapped
by a man. This is no different, and I’m ready to break free, ready to do what
I want for once.
After I manage to trick the one who was supposed to be my soulmate. The
one who rejected me.
Ezekiel.

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 Chapter Thirty-Eight

I
know I have to do this. This is the only way out but even now as Ky
stands beside me, just outside of Ezekiel’s lands, I can’t help but feel
nervous. My hands wring together as my breathing shallows.
“It’s simple, Rose. Just text me when he lets the wolves out and I will
grab them.”
“And then I get my daughter back?”
He grabs my trembling hands and my eyes snap to his. “The wolves for
your daughter.”
As he stares into my soul I weakly nod and peel my hands from his.
“It is a thirty minutes’ walk from here, keep heading north.” Are the last
words he says before he steps away and shifts into his wolf form. The sound
of bones breaking follow and his human body morphs into this massive
beast.
I gasp, edging back as the beast glares at me, baring his canines while a
soft breeze moves through his brown fur. I never seen a full-grown wolf
before but I now know for sure to keep Lucy away from these monsters.
 He snarls again and leaves, running back as I feel the ground beneath me
rumble. I watch him disappear in the distance and turn to head north.
In some simple jeans and sneakers, a black shirt with a leather jacket and
my hair loose, I start walking with my small bag clutched in my hand.
The grass scrunches beneath my sneakers, the sun burning my skin as
every step I take has my doubt fading.
There aren’t as many trees here than around Ky’s place, or better said,
packhouse. That is how they call it, while we all know it’s a freaking castle.
I chuckle softly as I see the iron gates in the distance on top of the slight
hill. The gravel path reminding me of the first time I got here, and as if I
belong here the gates slowly open.
My hands flex at my sides as my gaze travels over the black Victorian
house, waiting for me. The tall windows, the black birds flying above it. My
eyes snap to my left as I hear the snapping of jaws—Ezekiel’s pets.
Not going that way. I shake my head and continue towards the front door.
My breath catches as my insides coil, goosebumps rise on my skin and the
sound of heavy footsteps come closer from behind me.
“Little devil,” Ezekiel whispers, the warmth of his body seeping into mine
and I don’t move, not daring to lean back even as that is all my body craves.
He steps around me, his gaze raking over my body. His hair is styled back
as some tendrils hang before his features. His lips tilts in a smile as he
stands before me, his teeth rubbing over his bottom lip.
I used to do everything to make him smile, to get him to look at me in the
way he’s doing now. But I can’t give in; I have to stick to my plan.
His eyes change, and I grin as I feel him trying to get into my mind, but it
won’t work. It will never work again.
“Sire,” I say flatly.
 He edges closer, and I hear chains rattle, his pets crawling closer. I
absentmindedly rub my wrist, knowing how it felt to have shackles keeping
me in place.
“Careful now, you don’t want to give me a way in,” he teases, his eyes
fixed on my wrists.
This is going to be harder than I thought it was going to be.
“You sent me away,” I say stiffly, instantly regretting my words. I’m not
here to talk it out, I’m only here for one reason. My daughter.
His hand tenses at his hip, a move I have seen him do plenty of times
before, only when he has the need to touch me.
“I had to.”
“You didn’t choose me.”
He looks down and sighs. “True.”
Swallowing the sting, I keep my head up. “I’m not weak anymore.”
He tilts his head, his eyes softening. “You were never weak to me.”
I blink, not daring to believe his words. “Then why?”
“I didn’t want this for you.” His eyes drift over my body, and I inch back.
“I never wanted you to be like me. You deserve more than that.”
I shake my head, not daring to hold his gaze. I have to stay mad; I can’t
have him lure me in again. I can’t be that easily persuaded. My eyes fall
behind him, watching Johnny coming toward us.
“Who sired you?” he asks.
“You did,” I mumble.
His eyes widen and he steps back. “Impossible, I didn’t turn you.”
I don’t know whether I should tell him the truth about who gave it to me. I
don’t want Johnny to get in trouble or worse, but I have—
 “I gave her one of your vials, sire,” Johnny says as he stands behind
Ezekiel.
“You know what will happen to her now,” Ezekiel sighs, his expression
darkening.
“She needed to know what you did, and I’d hoped she would come back. I
didn’t know she would use it to turn herself.”
Ezekiel shakes his head, his hands balling into fists. “Our game might’ve
started with the intent to kill you, but I never could. Even before I knew you
were my mate, Rose. And now, Johnny made sure you will die.”
I blink, my confusion rising. Why does he sound like he cares? “I won’t
die. I can’t.”
Ezekiel sighs again. “My blood can’t be used to turn humans.”
“And still, it worked.”
“In the first day, your mind will change. Your actions will become
unpredictable and on the third day, you will di—”
“I turned over two weeks ago,” I say, interrupting him.
His face falls. “That can’t be,” he mumbles.
“And yet, here I am.” He doesn’t need to know that the only thing keeping
me sane is that I can only feed on his blood.
Because if I don’t, I change into this unstoppable monster.
I tried and failed.
And I don’t want any more blood on my hands.
Ezekiel doesn’t believe me; I can see it in his eyes. He is still trying to
worm himself inside my head, wanting to see for himself. But I can’t let
him in. I can’t show him what I’m here for and how I’m planning to get it.
But I also can’t hide everything from him. I need to show him something,
give him something so he steps back.
 I want him to know what we could have been, what he destroyed.
Showing what I thought of him when we worked together, the respect and
interest. The crush, the warmth that spread under my skin when he glared at
me when he thought I didn’t notice.
How I craved his touch, even when I didn’t know that the two men I was
falling for were one and the same.
That my twisted mind, my fucked-up desires wanted his punishment,
wanted so much more than he gave me.
He smiles at me, and my brows knit. “What?” I ask.
“Perfect,” he whispers.
I stammer and move back, dropping my bag as he steps closer.
He cups my face, forcing me to a stop. “My little devil.”
“Not a mouse.” Shit. My walls are crumbling, and it takes every bit of
strength within me to keep myself from breaking.
Lucy, she is all I have to think about. I have a deal to uphold, and I can’t
melt so quickly. Showing him what we were wasn’t supposed to backfire
like this. I wanted him to feel guilty and needed him to trust me.
I’m not here to get back together with Ezekiel. I’m here to get those two
wolves he has tied up. That’s it.
And then, I disappear.
“I was wrong, you were never a mouse. You’re a force.”
“Stop, please just stop.” Another wall breaks, and I tear myself from his
touch.
His hands fall, and so does his smile. “What do you want, if it’s not me?”
I breathe, grateful for his words. I need a distance between us, something
to keep myself in check.
“They took my daughter; they took Lucy because of you.”
 “And what do you think I can change about that?”
His words cut deeper than they should, and I push back the pain, blocking
it out. “They want the two wolves you have.”
“I don’t have any wolves of theirs.”
I blink, my eyes snapping to Johnny and back to Ezekiel. I don’t know if
he’s lying; it doesn’t feel like he’s lying but why would the wolf leaders go
through all this trouble? It doesn’t make any sense.
“You do have them,” I insist. The corner of his lips twitch, and my gaze
narrows. I add, “They told me you did experiments on them?”
He amends, “I had two wolves, but not anymore.”
No, he succeeded. He isn’t lying; they are no longer just wolves.
“You did it?”
He crawls closer, and his hand snakes around my neck, forcing me in
place.
“They send you to get them, thinking I will be gentler because you used to
be mine.” He pushes me back and heads toward the front door without a
second glance.
“I’m not lying about Lucy. They want you to trade. I don’t care that your
plan with them worked. I only want her!” I yell.
But he doesn’t stop, he walks on without a care in the world.
He never cared for me, never.
My hands ball into fists, my teeth burn. Something is changing. This
anger, rage, it ignites beneath my skin. An inferno ready to break free and
take whoever stands nearby.
I run after him, wanting him to be on the receiving end of my fury. Johnny
steps between us, trying to grab me. He fails, as I dodge his hands and turn
behind him with my arms around his neck.
 I have learned a few things with Ky, and one of the most important things
is how to get rid of a vampire, at least for a moment.
His neck snaps in my grip, and I lunge for Ezekiel.
He glares at me with a smirk, but he doesn’t dodge me. He catches me,
and I groan when he doesn’t move an inch.
I break free from his hold and try to hit him. He catches my fist, along
with the next. With a simple move, I’m pressed against the wall, his body
leaning against mine as he looks down, holding my hands above my head.
My chest rises and falls rapidly as I pant for air. But it isn’t because of my
attack, it’s because of him. My body and soul react to him, and it seems I’m
not the only one as his gaze darkens, his fang rubbing over his bottom lip.
“Don’t push me,” he warns, voice dark.
The strength in my legs fade, and he is the one keeping me up.
“Or what?” I taunt.
He grabs my hair with his other hand and pulls me aside. He inches
closer, his breath dancing over my skin as he runs his nose from my ear to
my neck.
My lips part, and a breathy moan lets loose.
“Good girl,” he muses, and then I feel his fangs puncture my skin, edging
deeper until his lips latch around me.
He releases my hands and hair, his arms snaking around me, tugging me
closer as pleasure courses through me.
They warned me about his bite, they sai—
“Fuck,” I moan, my hips bucking against him as my legs tug around his,
needing him closer.
My clit throbs, and my walls clench around nothing. That need rises, coils
within me, an orgasm ready to break free.
 Everything weakens, my anger, my hate, my rage. All that remains is him
and me.
Being one.
I can’t give in; I can’t forget why I’m here.
“No, no.” I push on his chest. “Please stop,” I whisper as tears brim my
eyes.
His fangs retreat, and he slowly edges back. His lips painted with my
blood as he stares at me.
A tear rolls down my cheek, and he gently wipes it away with his thumb.
“Stay,” he pleads.
“I-I do—
“Stay here with me,” he repeats. “We will get your daughter back, I
promise.”
Promise?
He’s made promises before, ones he never broke. But still, I don’t know if
I can trust him.
Hesitantly, I finally answer, “Okay.” I nod, and he takes my hand.
“I’ll show you where you can stay.”
“Not the same room as usual,” I joke, and a slight smile forms on his lips.
“No, little devil. You are staying with me.”
Oh crap.

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 Chapter Thirty-Nine

J
ohnny glares at me from afar as I unpack the small bag I brought. I can
feel his anger from here, rage that I snapped his neck earlier. But I can’t
help but smile.
I defeated him, got the better of him. Maybe it wasn’t a fair fight but still,
it makes me feel good. Feels as if I’m taking something back.
“You should be nice to me if you want to feed,” he taunts, and my brows
furrow.
“And why is that?” I don’t know how Johnny got those vials, what kind of
deal he made.
He tosses me a vial, one I quickly catch
He sighs. “I didn’t meant for you to turn like that.”
“Then how?”
He shrugs and inches closer. “I would have turned you, if you had asked.”
I stare at him, trying to crawl inside to read his intentions. His hand wraps
around my throat quicker than I can blink.
“You want to have a look, want to see what I want and desire,” he hisses.
 I struggle for my next breath as his grip tightens.
“Take a look, Rose. Do it,” he sneers, his pupils dilating, opening the door
for me.
I don’t want to, but he traps me in, leaving me no escape as I see his
dreams, his ideas. What he desires most, his intentions, all leading to one
outcome.
One person.
I rip myself free. “What the hell, Johnny?”
“I wanted you first, and he rejected you. Why do you want to try again?”
he yells.
“You wanted to drink me dry!” I shout back.
“That was the idea, and then you fucked me up. Why did you do it,
Rose?”
“I didn’t do shit!” I never thought about Johnny like that.
At first, I thought he was a bit flirtatious, but quickly I saw it was just a
play for him, easy to act in a certain way. But that all changed when Ezekiel
marked me with his black rose.
“And what are you going to do now? Live here, sleep in his bed, pretend
he hasn’t hurt you?” he demands.
“Fuck off, Johnny!” I shove him back.
He lets me win; he lets me push him away. He doesn’t want to fight, a
fight he has already lost. He wanted to vent, tell me, show me that even
though Ezekiel hurt me, I hurt Johnny.
I never meant for that to happen. I am grateful for the person he is, but
I’m not the one he wants, I can never be what he wants.
Johnny shakes his head. “You can’t trick him; he’s the master, your sire.
You can never beat him at his own game, the one he created.”
 “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
He tosses his hands up. “Have it your way, Rose. But the more you let
him feed on you, the harder it’s going to be.”
I grit my teeth. “I won’t let him, not again.”
“But you can’t stop him. He needs to feed.”
I snort, crossing my arms. “He can grab someone else for it.”
“You haven’t heard yet, haven’t heard the whispers.” He’s baiting me,
trying to get me to show him something I shouldn’t. Show him that I care
about Ezekiel, or him.
My brows furrow. “What?”
“After he found out you were mates, he is unable to feed on another. He’s
getting weaker, for the first time in centuries.”
Weaker? That could help me, right?
Johnny chuckles. “Why do you think they grabbed you, let you turn
yourself, ensuring you could never die and be his blood bank for eternity?”
I shake my head, not wanting to hear his lies.
“You didn’t feel that slight ringing, that buzz as Ky tricked you into
turning. Letting you believe it was your idea,” he says.
“No, it was mine.”
“How could a simple human figure out to turn herself?” He tilts his head
to the side.
I grit my teeth. “Well, it wasn’t that hard to begin with. Almost die or die
with vampire blood your system and then finish the transition by drinking
the same blood again. It’s not fucking rocked science.” With my last word I
slam the door shut in his face.
I don’t want to believe it, I don’t want him to be right, but deep down, I
wonder. I sigh, thinking back to when I let myself fall out the window, how
I felt that slight ringing in my head. Fuck.
I’m just a pawn in his big plans. Even if I can’t get the wolves back, he
will make sure Ezekiel gives them up if he takes me away, but first he
wants Ezekiel to feed again, ensuring he knows how good it tastes before he
snatches me up again.
Fucking men.
I keep falling into the same traps, truly believing this was the only way.
Maybe I should make a ploy for myself, but how can I if Ky has my
daughter and Ezekiel is the one who ensures I keep my sanity?
I’m stuck.
I’m fucking stuck.
They all think they can use me for their own plans, but I’m not weak. Not
anymore.
I stick to my plan, and once I have them all in one place, I get Lucy.
I won’t let them turn me into a blood bank to keep their claws in Ezekiel.
I won’t let them use me like that.
What will become of my daughter if they have me locked up and used as
Ezekiel pleases?
Fuck, how could I have been this stupid? Johnny’s is right, now I know
for sure. I glare at my hands as they tremble slightly.
Tears brim my eyes; my breathing shallows, and I don’t know what to do
next.
Suddenly, warm hands take mine, and I peek up, meeting Ezekiel’s gaze
as he stares down at me.
“We will get her back,” he promises, tugging me closer until my body is
flush against him.
“Don’t feed on me,” I whisper, my voice breaking.
 “I shouldn’t have. I’m sorry, Rose. For everything.”
Don’t break, don’t break.
Remember, he’s an ass, a master manipulator, and he only wanted me for
his sick games.
Clenching my eyes shut, I repeat my thoughts, building that wall back up,
brick by brick, knowing that will be the only thing that keeps me sane in all
this.
Or at least, I hope it does.
“Is it true?” I ask, not daring to look into his eyes.
“What is?” Ezekiel rests his head on mine as his fingers brush soothingly
over my back.
“You can only feed on me?” Perhaps I shouldn’t ask, because I already
have this inkling that Johnny spoke the truth, so maybe I ask because I want
Ezekiel to know that I know.
“Sort of.” He laughs softly. “I think it’s my soul punishing me for hurting
you.” He pauses, his grip tightening. “But you shouldn’t forgive me, Rose.”
My eyes widen. “Why?”
“Because I will never deserve it.”
“You already told me you weren’t the hero but the bad guy.”
He sighs. “A monster.”
“I’m one too now.”
“No, Rose, we aren’t the same. We can’t be.”

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 Chapter Forty

A
s I lie in his big king size bed, a red fluffy duvet covering my body, I
can see it staring at me. Lying on the chair by the window, teasing
me.
One of his horned masks. Did he go out? Find a new woman to play with?
The thought leaves a foul taste in my mouth, one I try to erase by turning on
my other side. I don’t want to see it; I don’t want anything to hurt me.
I haven’t left this room since Johnny brought me here, even after Ezekiel
told me I could wander around if I wanted to, that I wasn’t a prisoner. A
plaything he kept locked up.
And still, it feels like that.
I don’t feel like myself here, or maybe this is who I am, and I don’t
recognize myself.
I believe I’m strong enough not to let anyone play tricks on my mind
again, but I don’t have a way to be sure.
And besides all that, I’m hungry.
Not for food.
 For blood.
I’m getting weaker. My hands tingle, and my fangs sting, urging me to get
some red. As I try to push away my needs, I clench my eyes shut, hoping
sleep will take me before my hunger wins.
The hairs on my arms raise, and I sit up, my eyes falling on the chair, now
without a mask.
My breath quivers as I feel him. “Ezekiel?” I whisper, wondering what
he’s doing.
I step out of bed and grab the robe, wrapping it tightly around my body.
I shouldn’t want to know; I should just let it be. Let him have his plays,
even if they aren’t with me anymore.
And yet, my curiosity is winning as I quietly open the door and step into
the hall. I don’t pay attention too much, not wanting to come across as a spy
or something, but what I do notice are the paintings. The ones that were
previously shielded with white linen sheets last time are now free.
Hanging in plain sight for everyone to see.
I tiptoe through the hall, careful where I put my foot down. The old
wooden floor easily make noise.
A gasp leaves me as I see the first—I don’t know what to make of it, it
almost looks like a wing, a very large wing.
As I take it in, my eyes drift lower, until I see who signed it.
EA.
“Do you like it?”
My body tenses as he stands behind me, and I slowly nod. “I’ve never
seen anything like it.”
“They don’t exist anymore.” He sighs and edges back.
 I follow his shadow and try to contain my smile as I see the mask in his
hand.
“Are you going to explain the horns?”
He glances over his shoulder. “You already asked that before.”
“And I want a better answer,” I snap.
He turns, the moonlight filtering through the window casts a light hue
over his face, just enough to see some of his features.
I hate that it’s him, the one I fell for.
On both his sides, the shadow and my boss. Both sides of the same coin.
“I told you my species have different names. But—”
“You lied?” I ask, not surprised.
“I never lied to you, Rose. I never will.” He inches closer, enough for me
to move back. I need the distance, something to keep my walls up.
“You said demons and vampires.”
“Yes, and you’re a vampire created by my blood. What shouldn’t be
possible, because I wasn’t created as a vampire.”
“So, you’re not a vampire.”
“I am now, but I wasn’t born like that. I was something more, not one of
the Old Bloods. I was always a servant to darkness.”
“And you had horns?” I ask as I watch his fingers rub over the mask.
“In many ways I am the same as any vampire, more powerful, yes of
course. But besides that, I could wield gifted powers, the same Ky is gifted
his, I can have them too.”
I nod thoughtfully. “You wanted more.”
He grins, nodding. “Don’t we all?” But then he sighs and glances at the
painting behind me. “To ensure I couldn’t be gifted anything, they took
them away.”
 “They clipped your horns?” My eyes drift to his hair. Shouldn’t I have felt
something, anything?
He chuckles. “They didn’t clip me like a fucking goat, Rose. They used
witches for it, and I can never have them back without one of the Old
Bloods granting me a piece of their power.”
“And that can’t happen?” He’s a man that schemes, makes deals, tricks
people. Surely, he can make it happen.
“They are all tucked away from prying eyes.”
Right, he said that before. They are all gone. Except for one. “Is that why
you want to kill the one who holds the darkness?”
“So, you did pay attention?” He lifts his brow, and the corner of my lip
twitches.
“As long as you don’t make me forget, I can be very observant.” I lift my
chin, pushing him slightly. He kept me in the dark for too long; he shouldn’t
have wiped my memories every time we talked. It didn’t keep me safe. In
fact, quite the opposite.
“So, it seems,” he muses.
“Why paint wings?” I ask as I see more painted, differently colored,
sometimes a part of the beast it was attached to.
“Mates were created to stop the fights, the wars between species. I was
one of the first and mated to a woman who could shift into a Tarragon.”
“What is a Tarragon?”
“A winged creature, like a small dragon.”
What? Dragon? How could all this be real? This entire world living
alongside humans without us knowing.
I murmur, “They don’t exist anymore?”
 He shakes his head. “No, just as the Old Bloods, they are imprisoned.
Kept away from our world.”
I hum and brush my fingers over the frame. A smile tugs on my lips when
I realize there is not a speck of dust to see. Just as in the office.
“Do you know where they are?” I ask.
“No, I don’t. No one does.” He takes my hand, intertwining his fingers
with mine, and I don’t dare to move.
“But I know they will come back. No one can keep that kind of power
imprisoned for eternity.” He pauses, gently pulling me closer. “Enough
about what has happened and what is inevitable in the future. Let me show
you everything.”
I quirk a brow. “Everything?”
“Even the wolves you are here for.” He grins at me, taunting me, and I try
to keep a straight face, not giving anything away, and still, it feels like I’m
losing.
I know I’m losing.
The wolves don’t exist anymore, they have changed, and I wonder what
that will do to my agreement with Ky.
“Why?” I ask. He knows why I’m here, yet he plays along as if he doesn’t
care about what I’m trying to do.
“Because you have a choice to make, one that will decide your future.”
There is no future with him. Surely, he must realize that. Or maybe he
doesn’t. Maybe he’s falling quicker than I thought.
Perhaps he does care.
“Ezekiel, I only want my daughter.”
“And you will, but you can have so much more; you can have everything
you ever wanted.” His words cut deep as I know what he’s aiming at.
 My stupid thoughts, my ideas for my life when I started working for him.
That I wanted everything.
A love that consumes you.
Be respected and powerful.
But it all comes down to one thing.
Freedom.
Free to love, free to do whatever I want without anyone standing in my
way.
“I will, someday,” I say. Maybe I should aim higher, maybe I should
demand more.
“And I will be there.” He smiles at me as I shake my head.
The idea was that he would fall for me again, and here we are. Staring at
each other’s soul, while I’m the one caving first.
“I don’t need to see them.” I fold as my my heart stammers, and I’m
hesitant. I’m doubting myself; I’m doubting everything again.
“Just walk with me,” he whispers.
Taking a shaky breath, I know I’m choosing wrong, and yet… I do it
anyway.
“Okay,” I breathe.

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 Chapter Forty-One

I
don’t want to say it, I don’t want to think it or feel it. But I do. I enjoyed
the time Ezekiel and I spent last night a little too much.
I’m so screwed.
How can he worm his way in that quickly? How can I be so easily
persuaded? I should hate him, curse him for eternity, but with my time in
this world, the one thing I feel is…
Understanding.
I understand why he pushed me away, and I hate that I believe he thought
he was doing the right thing to try to keep me out of this sick and twisted
world.
He thought he gave me freedom, the one thing I always craved and
desired. And yet, here I am. Trapped.
Stuck between my feelings for him and the deal I made.
So even now, as I watch Ezekiel work from the balustrade, I’m waiting.
Waiting for that moment of clarity because I know it will only become
harder.
 I need something to make it easier.
My jaw ticks when I spot the one who took me and my daughter, who
tossed me to Ky.
Esmeralda.
That bitch.
My gaze narrows, and my fingers dig into the wooden banister. Crushing
it beneath my palm.
I can’t lose it; I can’t do what I want. Not yet.
She speaks to Ezekiel, her hand resting on his lower arm, and my ribs
clench around my lungs, struggling to catch my next breath as her fingers
brush over his skin.
I shouldn’t feel jealous, as there is nothing between us. Nothing other than
some unresolved feelings. There isn’t a mate bond forcing me to feel this
way. It’s all me.
“You don’t like her,” Johnny notes as he comes closer.
“No, never did,” I grit, unable to keep my anger from my words.
“You can’t kill her,” he warns.
“I wasn’t going to.”
He huffs. “It doesn’t look that way.”
“And why can’t I kill her?” I thought our species could do whatever they
liked. As long as it doesn’t trigger a war between species. Who would miss
Esmeralda?
Johnny doesn’t speak, and I meet his gaze, finding he’s watching me, a
grin plastered on his face. I hate what he pushes my thoughts to. It shouldn’t
matter; it should make things easier.
Wanting to see Ezekiel for the monster he is, for the man that hurt me,
broke me, but I can’t.
 It doesn’t matter how hard I try; I want to be the one standing beside him,
brushing my fingers over his bare arms. I should be the only one touching
him. I don’t share, and I never will.
I push myself off the wooden railing and take the stairs as my eyes remain
glued to Esmeralda.
Even as I move closer, she stays beside him.
I do what I shouldn’t. I try to make my way inside her, and as I do, her
back straightens. Fuck, she felt it.
I thought I was getting better at this. I managed to trick Ky, or was that
him toying with me?
I shake my head, not wanting to go down the rabbit hole.
“Ezekiel,” I say, and his gaze snaps to mine. The emotionless expression
he had changes. A softness fills his dark eyes, and the corner of his lip pulls
up. My stupid jealousy fades.
“Little devil,” he whispers.
Esmeralda backs away as she glances at me up and down with a snort.
Ezekiel hears, and his soft smile falters. He moves fast, my eyes tracking
him as he cuts through the air and grabs her, not enough to hurt her, but
enough to make her whimper.
“Behave,” he sneers, and she weakly nods. He shoves her away, with her
refusing to look at me again.
I want to say something, but nothing nice will come out if I speak, so I
keep my lips sealed as I watch Ezekiel straightening his suit, brushing
invisible dust of his sleeves.
“Who is she to you?” I need to know; I don’t want to be squeezed into
some love triangle.
He sighs as he turns to me, and the softness is back. “She’s my daughter.”
 Holy shit.
It doesn’t make sense, nothing does. Why would she want me gone? She
is the one who grabbed me. Does Ezekiel know?
I shake my head, pushing away the confusing thoughts. “Why does she
—”
“Hate you?” he laughs.
“Well, yes.”
“Because you’re not her mother. She has the same ideas as her, ones I
don’t stand behind.”
“And why is that? Why don’t you two want the same things?”
“I made a deal many years ago, one I can’t get rid of. And she believes I
can, but I already tried, and it has cost me.” He rakes his fingers through his
hair and I wonder if this has something to do with his clipped horns.
There are some things he doesn’t want to share, and I don’t blame him.
And besides that, what would it matter if I knew everything? Would that
change anything?
It would make it easier if he kept me out of the loop. If he helps to build
this distance between us.
“You will tell me if she does anything, right?” he asks.
“Like what?” Why did I ask that?
“No one is allowed to touch you.” He glares at me, almost as if he can see
my soul cowering down.
My breath comes out shaky, as I’ve heard those words before. “I know,” I
breathe.
“Good.” The tension in his body fades, and he gently tucks a stray hair
behind my ear. His hand hovers by my neck, his gaze locking on it. “I want
to touch you,” he whispers.
 I know I should move back out of his grasp, but I don’t. “I don’t know,” I
say honestly.
“I do.” He pauses, his hand falling to his side. “I destroyed us.”
He doesn’t wait, he doesn’t look at me as he strides past me, leaving me
alone with my shattered heart, the one I thought was healed and ready.
But I’m not.
I hate what I want.
I hate that I want…
Fuck, I’m so screwed.
Him. I want him.

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 Chapter Forty-Two

Ezekiel

I
do the best I can. I let her see my world. I don’t hide, not anymore. But
I don’t know if I can keep doing this.
She is so close, right within my grasp, and still, I’ve never felt more
distance between us than now. Even with our bond shattered, it’s still there.
Confusing both of us, torturing us slowly until we cave.
And I want to cave. I am caving.
Her lips are parted slightly, as she breathes slowly. The pillow clutched in
her hand, but the blanket is bunched at her waist.
She probably didn’t mean to lay her like this, with the white t-shirt
inching up, revealing her delicious skin.
I know how it tastes, I know how she tastes.
And fuck, I need it.
I need it all.
My cock rubs against my zipper painfully as I brush my cold fingers over
her heated skin. A soft, delicate moan pours from her lips, and I grin.
“Good girl,” I whisper.
 My fingers tremble as my weakness is becoming a problem. I have to
feed, but I can’t. I can’t do that to her.
I want her to want it. I won’t force anything on her.
Not anymore.
“You’re killing me, little devil.” I tilt closer, my lips teasing over her skin,
and I softly kiss her.
She might not want it, but she needs me as much as I need her.
We are inevitable.
“Sire?” Johnny’s voice echoes through the dark room, and I stand up to
meet his gaze.
“What?” I snap back.
How dare he come inside here? Where she rests?
“She is waiting for you.”
I glance at Rose one more time before I leave her alone while all I want is
to sleep beside her as she curls against me.
She tries to hide it, and I pretend I don’t notice. But every morning, she
wakes up in my arms, lying half on top of me.
And I love it.
Love, a word I hated and feared, but not anymore.
Not when it comes to her.
I follow Johnny to my office as I stare at my phone. Reading the last
messages I sent Rose. Sometimes, I wish I could go back to that moment
and try again.
The last message I sent. Are you hiding from me?
One she never replied to.
With my thumbs hovering over the screen, I reach out. Hoping this will
help.
 ME: Never hide from me.
I know she won’t read it until tomorrow, and I probably shouldn’t have
sent it, but I don’t know what else to do.
Johnny clears his throat, and my eyes snap up, seeing Esmeralda waiting
in my office.
“Why was I summoned here?” She crosses her arms, her eyes narrowing.
I sigh, signaling for Johnny to close the door. I want him to see this; I
want him to know.
“You touched her.” My words are simple, but the meaning isn’t.
She gulps, her gaze flickering between me and Johnny as if he might help
her. The anger, the impatience she had, immediately fades.
“She makes you weak,” she sneers, putting up a façade.
But I can already see through it; I can read her like a book.
She’s scared.
And she should be.
“She doesn’t. But your actions do. You took her to Ky.”
She slowly nods, well aware that I will know when she lies.
“Es, behave for once.”
“Why won’t you listen? We can get her ba—”
“No,” I snap. “I can’t bring your mother back. Stop trying.”
Tears well her eyes as she stomps past me.
She holds onto the past too much. And believes nothing is impossible, but
some things shouldn’t happen.
And even though her mother was my first mate, that doesn’t mean we
were meant to be together. But with Rose…
It’s real.
 Esmeralda pushes me, testing and baiting me, and yet I can’t punish her
like I can another. She’s my blood, my daughter.
Even though we don’t have the same bond Rose has with hers, with Lucy.
I won’t hurt my child.
“Make her pack her bags and send her up north to work at the Landrey
estate.”
Johnny hesitates. “Sire, she—”
“I know she won’t like it!” I yell. “But she needs to know that Rose is
here to stay. I won’t lose her again.”
He stiffly nods and turns to leave.
“And Johnny, I won’t forget you let Rose be taken.”
He pauses at the door, his shoulders tensing, and then he leaves.
I don’t know why he worked with Esmeralda, why he let Rose be taken.
I can’t have Rose feeling jealous or angry. I admit, it makes me feel good,
seeing it as something positive. But I want her to feel good.
My phone buzzes, and I take it out of my pocket. My lips curl, as I can’t
contain the smile that lifts.
ROSE: I’m trying.
She is trying. I sigh in relief. That is all I’m asking for, to give me a
chance. To prove I’m hers, only hers, I know what I have to do. I know I
have to bring my hybrids out.

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 Rose

It shouldn’t be my problem. I know I shouldn’t focus on this, but I have to

know. I have to see for myself. I just need him to tell me it was all a
mistake, that he doesn’t care. That he’s still playing with me.
But this heat that courses through me, begging me to let him play with
me, is nerve-wracking.
I’ve tried to avoid him for days now, but I can’t anymore.
I feel it when he sleeps beside me, as he kisses me goodnight when he
thinks I’m already asleep.
I can’t take it anymore. I can’t.
It’s killing me.
Slowly and painfully.
So now, I wait. I wait for him to come here as I stare at my phone.
Regretting what I send.
It should be a lie; it should help with my plan, but it isn’t.
I’m telling the truth.
I’m trying something that I shouldn’t.
The door creaks open, and I don’t dare to look, knowing it’s him.
My shadow, my Ezekiel.
The one I want but shouldn’t.
The one who broke me, shattered me to pieces.
Yet still, I need him.
“Come,” he says as he moves to the large wooden panels on the wall.
 I hadn’t looked; I tried, but it was locked. And now he wants to show me.
Are there torture devices behind it? But why keep it in his bedroom? Oh…
What if these are his toys? Like, sex toys?
My cheeks burn as I fix my night attire, tugging my shirt down, not
wanting to show any skin.
He takes out a single key from his pocket and opens the panels. He meets
my gaze and with a soft smile, pushing them open.
“I’m trying, too,” he says as a soft light flickers on.
I gasp, and my legs tremble. My eyes rake over all the masks he has, the
ones he used on me.
Cautiously, I edge closer and brush my fingers over them, feeling the
thick leather layered on the horns. The tips are dull, not as sharpened as
some, and I caress them. Wondering if it would hurt.
“That one is my favorite,” he says.
“You said…” I swallow my words. I shouldn’t say it. Shouldn’t repeat the
words he said to me.
He chuckles softly. “The offer still stands, little devil.” His arm snakes
around my waist as he inches closer. Until I feel his warm breath over my
neck.
I close my eyes and shamelessly lean into his touch. Doing what I
shouldn’t.
But the comfort, the warmth he brings, is something I need more than
anything right now.
“It will be okay.” His voice is low, and it sends a shiver down my spine. “I
promise.”

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 Chapter Forty-Three

“I
t’s time, little devil,” Ezekiel says as he pulls me to the foyer. “We’re
letting our Hybrids out to play.”
I stammer with my words, almost tripping over my own feet as he drags
me down the stairs.
Shit. Shit. Shit.
The sense of panic grips me tightly as I realize I have to text Ky. My body
trembles, my breath quivers, and I keep wondering if telling him is the right
choice. If giving Ezekiel up is the right thing to do.
As Ezekiel hand peels from mine, I slip my phone from my pocket. With
a stammering heart, I scroll through my contacts and shoot Ky a message.
ROSE: It’s today
My phone buzzes immediately and I stare down.
KY: Where?
ROSE: I don’t know yet.
Quickly, sliding the phone back in my back pocket I search for Ezekiel.
Following his men as they hurry outside.
 I freeze on the front steps, my eyes raking through those before me.
Xander and Valentina standing in the center, talking with Johnny. Probably
going over the plan for today.
I gasp as strong arms wrap around me. His lips trail over my neck, and I
lean into his touch.
It feels too good, and I’m not strong enough to keep this distance between
us. The distance I needed from the start. The one I lost very, very quickly.
“You don’t have to come,” he whispers, his breath fanning over my skin,
goosebumps rising in its wake as we both stare at the front lawn of his
house, watching how his men gather around his hybrids.
“I want to… I want to see how they fight,” I lie. I don’t want to come, but
I have no choice. This is the moment Ky will get his hybrids, and I get my
daughter back.
“I hope to see you fight.” His arms tighten, and he pushes my hips back,
making sure I feel his cock.
“You want to fight me?” I tease.
“Oh, we will battle, and you will lose.”
I laugh gently. “Or I win.”
“No, little devil. We both know you can’t say no to me, to what I can give
you.”
My breath trembles as I know he’s right. He is the one person in my life
who has ever made me feel strong, who has given me a sense of freedom
even in this trapped plan. Who’s made sure I knew my worth.
I suck at this. I suck at games and tricks. I can’t lie; I’m not good enough.
And I know he doesn’t believe me, but somehow, he still chooses to do so.
It doesn’t make sense.
 His men move and we slowly follow as Ezekiel doesn’t leave my side.
Every step I take is becoming harder as I know, deep down, I’m making a
mistake.
The iron gates slowly open, his men filtering through, followed by the
two hybrids.
“Stop,” I whisper, loud enough for Ezekiel to hear and muster up the
courage to speak the truth. His eyes search mine as I blink away the
forming tears.
“We can’t go,” I say, not wanting to lose Ezekiel.
The corner of his lips curls and he tilts his head.
“I’m not joking. They know, Ezekiel. They know where we’re going!”
They might not know exactly, but I’m sure Ky will have his way. And
Ezekiel isn’t going to give his hybrids, it’s not going to be a simple trade.
I can’t lose him; I need them both in my life. I can’t believe I made this
choice, that I’m willing to jeopardize my daughter’s safety, but with what
Johnny told me, Ky was never going to be done using me. And that means
he will never leave me and Lucy alone.
There isn’t a change in Ezekiel’s expression, no anger, no rage or
disappointment. Nothing other than his usual look. One I can only explain
as love, his kind of love.
My brow furrows. “Aren’t you supposed to be mad at me?”
He cups my face, his thumb brushing over my cheek. “I already knew,
Rose, right from the start.”
My eyes widen as I grip his hands. “You knew all this time, and you’re
willingly walking into a trap?”
“Yes.” He nods.
 “Why?” I rip myself free from his touch, edging back as I wonder if he
tricked me into something more.
“Because I love you more than I care for myself. And I could never make
right what I did to you. What I made you feel.”
I swallow over the rising lump in my throat, not wanting to crumble, to
jump into his arms. “They will kill you.”
He weighs my words. “Perhaps, but you will have your daughter back. I
promised I would help you, and I never break a promise.”
“They won’t give her back.” I shake my head, my hands trembling, not
knowing what my next move is.
“I know. But we will take her back.”
He waits for me, luring me closer as I realize he has a plan. A real plan.
Not those things I try to make and fail in every time.
“You never failed, little devil. You did your part perfectly.”
Fuck. He can still get inside my head.
“I never stood a chance?”
“You have me wrapped around your finger, and you don’t even realize.”
I blink, my brows knit.
“I will keep telling you how much I need you in my life. And it isn’t for
your blood or your beauty. It’s your presence, your smile, your mind.”
A blush creeps on my cheeks. “I’m not forgiving you.” My self-control is
wavering, but I don’t want to cave. Well, I do. I really, really do. It will
make it so much easier.
But he has already broken my heart, and I don’t know if I can handle that
again. I have to be cautious. I have to protect myself, even from the one I
love.
“I don’t expect any less.”
 “What about your hybrids?”
He chuckles. “The wolves might want them back, but who says my toys
want to go back?”
Oh, he’s good. Fuck, how could I ever think I could win?
“You did win, Rose.” He grabs my hand, leading me away from the
others. As they move west and we head south. “Come on, let’s get your
daughter.”
I stammer, hesitating as he pulls me with him. Unsure what his plan is and
if I get screwed over somehow, hurting my daughter in the process.
“I’m not sure,” I mumble.
He stops and turns, his eyes searching mine for an answer I don’t have.
He closes in, cups my face, and I am afraid I might break if he stares at me
any longer.
He kisses me.
Oh my, his lips. He’s kissing me. He’s never kissed me before; he told me
I wasn’t allowed. That it wasn’t…
But it is now.
He loves me.
I close my eyes, the tension in my body fades, and my lips follow his lead
as he parts his.
It’s slow, sensual, a dance while the world spins faster. His hand glides
lower to my back, and he forces my body against his. Wrapped in his scent,
his frame and protection.
All I wanted from him is now here.
All the doubts fade.
Our lips slowly part, and he leans his forehead against mine. “Be mine,”
he whispers, “and I will give you the world.”
 I smile as tears brim in my eyes. “I don’t need the world, only my little
girl,” I breathe sharply, building up the courage because I know I can’t
come back from this. “And you.”
He mirrors my smile. “Now, let’s get our little girl.”
My heart swells. Warmth spreads beneath my skin, but I know I can’t
make that choice.
“It will be her decision,” I whisper. I cannot ask her to be okay with
everything. She has a say; she has to choose if she is willing to accept our
new life.
I will never take her choice away; I will never make her feel trapped like I
was.
“I think she will like me.” He has a knowing look on his face, one that
makes my eyes narrow.
“How so?”
“Just a feeling.” He isn’t telling me everything; I can see it in that smug
smile of his, but I let him have it, knowing he won’t hurt me or my
daughter.
I trust him.
I didn’t want to before, but I do now.

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 Chapter Forty-Four

O
ur steps are without sound as we sneak up to the castle-like building.
The one that kept me prisoner for two weeks as the wolves tricked
me into being their puppet.
As Ezekiel thought, there aren’t enough guards to stop us, most probably
with Ky to fight Ezekiel’s troops and get the wolves back. Well, hybrids.
I wonder what Ezekiel has up his sleeve, because he sounded sure when
he said they won’t want to go back.
Wait. They have a kid.
“You’re grabbing their son?” I ask, coming to a stop.
Is he going to do the same thing Ky did to me?
“Rose, it’s not like that. They can’t go back to their old lives.” He grabs
my hands, ensuring I don’t run away.
I don’t want to be the one taking someone’s kid to blackmail them. I can’t
be that person.
“Look in my head, search for the conversation I had with Xander, the
male hybrid. I can’t compel or trick them.”
 His pupils dilate, the same as with Johnny, but this time I don’t hesitate. I
want to see; I want to know.
Everything.
I crawl through the thick mist, the shielded parts of his past, memories
waiting to resurface while I push through, focusing on the ones I need.
It’s hard though, hard when fire lures me closer, sounds of mystical
creatures roar around me, and I wonder if those are his dreams and fantasies
or reality. And then I see it, the thick mist parts, showing the slick stone
walls of Ezekiel’s underground facility. The atmosphere reminding me of
the cells Greg was held in. The damp air, the lack of windows.
The scent of herbs and blood fills my senses and I am there, inside his
memory. Seeing what has happened as if I was there all along.
You might think you can change the memory, and you can, but you will
only change the reality of the one who holds the memory, not the reality of
what has happened.
The same as Ezekiel did to me, changing what I went through, what I saw.
But he could never change what I felt. No one can.
Not even that wolf, Ky Moreno.
I watch as the two hybrids’ eyes glaze over, showing they are
communicating with each other, trying to keep Ezekiel out of it.
But no one can trick him, even now as he stands next to his witch, going
over the procedure and what kind of wolf they need to target next. He
listens to his toys.
“We can never go back, not with what we became.” I hear the woman’s
voice; I think Valentina is her name. Her hair is long and brown, dirty from
her stay here as he hollowed cheeks make my eyes prickle. Her boney
hands grip the man’s shoulder.
 “I know.” His dark tightly curled hair bounces slightly, as it weighs on his
shoulders. Knotted in some places, as he shows the same malnourishment
on his features.
Ezekiel told me they were mates, but they don’t look like it. I can see the
hurt in her eyes when she looks at him, and he is drowning in guilt.
I blink away thoughts and focus back on what they said. Ezekiel created
them with his—
Blood.
It’s the same as with me; they need him to survive.
They are trapped.
Xander eyes Ezekiel and speaks up. “Where will we live?”
He’s smarter than he looks; he knew Ezekiel listened in.
“Upstairs. You two will have your own place as long as you work for
me.”
Xander huffs, and I understand why. Ezekiel pretends they have a choice,
while really they don’t.
“We want our son. He has to stay here with us,” Xander says.
“You will have him in two days.”
Xander stiffly nods and sits back beside Valentina. Wrapping his arm
around her, tugging her close.
The scene before me covers back up with mist as I move back, too fast to
see anything else until I’m staring back at Ezekiel.
“Okay,” I mumble. Perhaps we can’t give them their freedom, they will
always be tied to Ezekiel and so will I. But we can bring their son back.
Bring him here to stay with his parents.
“I never lie to you; I won’t trick you.”
My brow lifts as I tilt my head. Sure he won’t.
 “Not to harm you,” he whispers.
I know the person I fell for; he isn’t a saint. He isn’t a hero. He is
something dark and twisted. But that doesn’t push me away, it doesn’t make
me hide. Even know I know it should.
He makes me feel safe and desired. All I wanted, he is offering.
And I take it.
I take it all with both hands, gripping it tightly, because I fear that if I
don’t, it will slip through my fingers.
“I will hurt you if you lie to me.” I can’t stand liars or cheats.
“I hope you do.” He smirks at me as he brushes his knuckles over my jaw,
and I shiver beneath his touch.
Suddenly, His brows knit as a painful groan leaves him. He blinks rapidly
and edges back, scanning our surroundings, checking his own body.
My eyes widen, as I wonder what I did. “What’s wrong?” I ask, moving
closer, but he stops me as he holds up his hand with a quick shake of his
head. “Ezekiel, you’re scaring me,” I say, trying to find what is wrong.
He whimpers, and the scent of burned flesh wafts off him.
“You have to go,” he croaks out. “He’s here.”
Who is?
Ezekiel falls to the ground. Thick black smoke wafts from under his
pants, and I jump back in shock.
“Aurora?” I ask, knowing what he told me about the darkness, a darkness
that can bring down a nation.
He shakes his head as the smoke moves up his bare arm, leaving a trail of
burned red marks on his skin as he screeches in pain and the smell
intensifies.
 A harsh sting grows in my chest, a pain I felt when he rejected me. I know
I’m losing him when he fights against the pain.
A tall man comes out of hiding, his eyes never leaving Ezekiel. The man
lifts his arm, and so does Ezekiel, moving in the air, slowly with the
darkness engulfing him.
“Nooo, let him go. Please let him go!” I beg.
I’ve never seen this man before, and I thought Aurora was the only one
who could control the darkness. At least, that was what Ezekiel said.
“Please,” I sob as I try to break free. “We only want our daughter. Please
let him go.”
The man glares at me, and then I feel it. The prickle starts at my ankle,
burning its way up.
I fall to the ground, my hands trembling as the burns expand.
“I made a deal with Ky. He gets the wolves, and I get my daughter!” I
yell, I scream, losing this fight. An unfair one.
Until everything stops.
The pain.
The burn.
The screams.
Ezekiel stumbles to the ground, the dark smoke retreating.
“Ky?” the man asks.
I cough, blood spurting to the ground, and I slowly rise with trembling
legs.
“I lived here for two weeks; he kept my daughter, and I could only get her
back if the two wolves were returned.” I nod.
The man’s eyes snap to Ezekiel. “Is this true?”
 Ezekiel wheezes, his skin covered in burns; Not a word leaves his lips as
he stares at the man.
“I don’t know who you are, and I know we shouldn’t be here, but I need
her back. I knew Ky wouldn’t keep his end of the deal when he saw what
the wolves had turned into.”
He shakes his head, mumbling something so soft I can’t even hear.
“And still it was a trap,” he says.
My eyes widen. “A trap?”
“They are fighting them as we speak.”
“Because they don’t want to come back,” I breathe, knowing my words
aren’t the full truth, but it’s all I can give him. “They aren’t under his
control; hybrids can’t be tricked.” That’s the truth. I’m sure Ezekiel tried,
but as I saw his memory, the conversation he had with Xander, I know he
failed in tricking them.
“Xander doesn’t want to come back?” His voice is softer than before, as if
this knowledge pains him.
I shake my head. “I don’t know why, but I do know he feels guilty for
something.”
His lips tug into a small smile. “Fine.”
His eyes change, glazing over and the doors in the distance open. Guards
filter through and I hesitantly move back, until I see her. Running between
the guards, trying to push them aside as she picks up her pace.
Lucy.
“You’re giving her back?” I ask, fearing the man is only doing this to trick
me into yet another scheme.
“I’m not that complicated. I don’t work like Ky or Ezekiel. That’s why Ky
did this neat little show when I was up north, because he knew I would stop
him,” he says.
I don’t wait, I don’t stall. I run without a second glance at who stands
around us. I have her, I have my daughter back.
My arms wrap around her, lifting her up in the air as tears roll down my
cheeks. “I’m so sorry I left you, sweetie.”
She hugs me tightly with her bunny clasped in her hand.
I stare at the man, and inhale deeply. His scent tells me he has a wolf, a
powerful one. “Who are you?” I ask the man.
“Izaiah,” he answers.
With Lucy in my arms, I move closer and extend my hand. “I’m Rose.”
His eyes changing to pitch-black as a smile tugs on his lips, and then he
takes my hand.
“I heard you are going to be Queen of the Vampires.” He watches me
closely.
I scoff, “I’m not the queen.”
“I’m sure Aurora doesn’t make mistakes about that.” He pauses, and his
gaze drifts to Ezekiel. “He needs some blood to recover, but he’ll be fine.”
“We won’t come back,” I say. “I promise.”
I hear Ezekiel grunt in agreement behind me; he doesn’t agree with my
promise. But like him, I will never break one.
“I will keep Ky in check.” Izaiah bites the inside of his cheek with a grin.
“And Elizabeth,” he adds with a laugh.
“Thank you.”
As Ezekiel scampers up, groaning with every move my eyes are fixed on
the boy stepping through the doors. He moves with caution as he stares at
Izaiah. His dark curly hair and plump lips remind me of Xander.
Izaiah stops him, pulling him in for a hug. “Tell your father I’m sorry.”
 The boy nods and joins me.
Izaiah offers us all one last look, sorrow glints through his eyes before he
heads back to his home.
With a shaky breath, I’m going back to mine. With my new family.

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 Chapter Forty-Five

A
s I stare at Ezekiel behind his desk, unable to hold back the smile on
my lips. My daughter sits on my lap, talking about the crocodiles she
can see from her room.
“You’re staring, Rose,” Ezekiel says, glancing up from his computer.
“Oh, you like it,” I tease.
A soft knock on the door makes Lucy jump off my lap. “That’s Noah,”
she exclaims before running toward the door and out the room.
I should be grateful they’re getting along, that she has someone to play
with. But I can’t help but be wary about it. I know he hasn’t seen his parents
since Ezekiel took them, well, since Ky gave them up to safe his own mate.
But Noah fears his mother. He hides from her, never daring to be with her
alone.
I don’t know what happened all those years ago, and I probably shouldn’t
ask. Perhaps one day I know it all, but for now I want to focus on the
present. And live my life with daughter and mate.
 Izaiah held up his end of the bargain, and Ky left without a word. I didn’t
even see him, to be honest. But Xander said the fighting just stopped. And
that Ky was pretty annoyed when he had to leave without the wolves. Or
better said, hybrids.
No one spoke about Elizabeth. I had to wonder if she was even there, or
maybe watching from a distance.
Ezekiel reaches for me over his desk and takes my hand. “Little devil,” he
muses.
“Do you want to play?” I tease, brushing my fingers over his arm, trailing
up as I sneak over his desk.
He pulls me closer, tugging me onto his lap.
“No,” he says simply.
My brows knit when I feel his hard cock pressing on my pussy. “What do
you want?”
“I want to fuck you until you beg me to stop.”
I chuckle softly, knowing I would never ask him to stop. “That won’t
happen.”
He grins at me. “I know.”

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 Ezekiel

My sweet devil, tied to the bedposts just like our first time together. The
room is dimly lit by warm candles that offer a soft orange hue.
My gaze rakes over her flustered naked body. Her chest moves quickly, as
her breath is short and sharp.
Her nipples perk up, needy for attention, but as she spreads her thighs,
revealing what I crave the most, my dick twitches.
With my mask in hand, I brush the cold leather over her heated skin.
Starting at her ankle, slowly trailing up.
Her leg trembles, her eyes fixed on me.
I graze the tip of the horn over her clit, and she flinches slightly, fearing I
might hurt her. The tips are too dull for pain, and I would never hurt her like
that, not if it doesn’t attribute to her pleasure.
Our pleasure.
“Are you scared?” I taunt, rubbing the curved side of the horn over her
clit.
“No,” she lies, as her heart skips a beat.
I shake my head as I click my tongue and roll the metal on the lighter I
have in my other hand, warning her of what’s to come if she lies; if she
doesn’t show me her true self.
“Yes,” she corrects herself, and I can’t deny the slight disappointment
because this need to punish her, push her limits moves inside me.
 “Good girl,” I praise, and her legs relax further, revealing her dripping
pussy. “Can you take us both?” I move the horn lower and gently, oh so
gently, slide it inside her.
Her back arches, and her eyes close as she moans and tugs on her
restraints. I push further until the dull tip is pressed against her sweet spot
and the other horn curves over her clit and mound.
“How does that feel, little devil?” I don’t punish her for looking away,
knowing how overwhelming this must be.
I feel the mask tremble, moving slightly as her pussy works around it, and
I help her. Shaking it gently and watch her wither from pleasure.
“Oh fuck,” she moans, her hips bucking against the mask, riding to her
release.
“Finish yourself, ride it,” I urge her and free my cock.
Fuck, the sight is too much.
My cock is killing me.
She cries, the chains rattling harshly, and then I hear it.
“More,” she moans.
Oh, my sweet, sweet devil. I will give you everything.
Her juices spill, coating the mask, and I lick my lips, wanting to taste her,
but I need to be inside her first.
I turn her around, the chains rattle, and I tug her hips up as she cries out.
My hand whips out to slap her ass, and I crawl behind her, leaning my body
over hers, wanting to feel us much skin as possible, even though it will
never feel enough.
“Are you going to be a good girl for me?” I whisper as my lips graze over
her ear and my hand kneads her ass.
 “Yes.” Her voice breaks and she rubs her ass against me. “Please,” she
begs, and I grin.
My fingers tease between her ass cheeks and gently stretch her for me.
She is soaked, her pussy continuing to gush with the horn inside her and
one rubbing over her clit.
“Tell me, has anyone fucked you in the ass?” I groan as I rub my pierced
tip over her juices.
She shakes her head, and my hands respond quicker than my tongue. A
harsh slap follows, and a moan spills from her lips as she jerks forward.
“Words,” I snarl, while I inwardly beg her to keep quiet, wanting to spank
her again. And again.
Oh, and she knows. She smiles, and not a word follows.
I spank her again, her skin blooming red beneath my touch, and I knead it
tenderly as my body starts to tremble. I’m losing control.
“No one touches me like you,” she whispers and tilts her hips, forcing my
tip to touch her ass.
She needs me, and who am I to say no to my little devil?
My future queen.
I inch inside her, gradually, as I don’t want to hurt her. Not in this way.
She curses, clutching the sheets beneath her and closing her eyes. But I
click my tongue and slap her.
“Look at me,” I order, and she glances back over her shoulder, not even
daring to blink. “Good girl.”
The praise relaxes her, and then I’m fully inside her, my balls pressing
against the mask, and I tilt my hips, forcing her to feel everything.
“Do you like this, to be this filled?” I groan as she tightens around me.
“Y-yes,” she breathes, and I edge back.
 “Can you take it all? Can you take to be fucked by me, pushed beyond
your limits?” I wait, my tip remaining inside her as her the mask trembles in
her pulsating pussy.
“Fuck me. Please do everything.”
My grip intensifies on her ass, and I slam inside her, listening to her
scream and cry as I do it again, and again, and again.
Fuck.
I hold onto her ass, my fingers bruising her skin as I lean back. Fuck, this
feels so good.
She lowers her head as she tries to glance back at me. I grab her arm,
releasing her chains, and tug her arm behind her back, giving her a delicate
nudge, needing to hear her whimper.
And then she says it again.
“More.”
I could never get enough of her. She wants all that I want, wanting to be
destroyed. Craves it, even.
I grab one of the candles behind me and smile when I see her eyes widen.
“Do you trust me?” I ask, tilting my head to the side as I maintain my
steady pace, thrusting.
“Yes,” she says quickly.
Tilting the candle, a single drop of wax falls on her ass, and she flinches
from the burn. I rub my hand over it, soothing it slightly before doing so
again.
“Such a good, good girl,” I praise and drip the wax on her ass, above my
pumping cock.
The heat searches lower, and I hiss.
 Another drop falls, now on her hip, and she moans for more. Her body
and soul are completely at my mercy, and the feeling is overwhelming.
I tilt the candle further as a continuous stream of hot wax pours over her
back.
She screams, her back arching further, and her pussy pulses as another
orgasm crashes through her.
Blowing out the candle, I toss it away, watching the wax dry on her back.
My pace increases as my cock begs for its release, my balls drawn up
almost painfully, but I push through as I peel the now cooled wax off her
body, feeling her tremble and wither.
I crawl over her, my body flush against hers as I chase my release. My
lips hover over her ear, and my fangs elongate, grazing her skin.
She tilts her head to the side and begs, “Please, Ezekiel, please.”
I move quick, my hunger taking over as my fangs puncture her heated
skin, and her sweet blood pours inside me, dancing over my tongue as she
crashes beneath me, reaching her euphoric high.
Her body twitches, milking my cock for every bit of cum as her orgasm
shatters her.
I pull back and whisper, “I want to mark you, make you my queen.”
Basking in the high of her orgasm, she nods. “I want to be yours forever.”
Brushing my tongue over the marks, I move lower, feeling her shiver as I
find her marking spot. It won’t be the same as feeding on her, and it won’t
give the same pleasure. But it will repair our broken bond,
I destroyed us, shattered our bond, and for the rest of our lives I will make
it up to her, treat her like the queen she is.
My fangs push through her skin, further, until they graze her bone,
claiming all of her to be mine. She withers beneath me as soft moans pour
from her lips.
The fragmented bond intertwines, healing all that was broken, all I ruined.
Gently, I retreat my fangs, delicately pressing my lips on the bite as I
move my hips, pulling my cock from her tight ass.
She whimpers, and her hand curls around my neck.
“Never leave me,” she whispers, a single drop of blood rolling down her
skin.
My hand trails lower, gripping the mask. “I will never leave you, I
promise.”
Tenderly pulling the mask from her pussy, she falls to the bed, her body
and soul exhausted, but that soft smile on her lips. The love I feel through
our bond and then those small sparks ignite as I brush the palm of my hand
over her skin.
“Little devil, you have to mark me now,” I tease as she rolls on her back
and I edge over her.
She hums, her eyes fluttering open, and I help her up as I lean back.
“Can you feel it?” I ask, not daring to release my hold on her.
“Yes,” she breathes, “it feels amazing.”
Her fangs slowly slip out, and her eyes change, now displaying the
underlaying tone of red.
“Breathtaking,” I say as I take her in.
She inches closer, and her legs wrap around my waist until I feel her
dipping pussy on my cock. Her arms snake around my neck, and she tickles
my ear with her tongue. Teasing down until my cock twitches beneath when
she locates my marking spot.
“All mine,” she murmurs, and then her fangs puncture my skin. I groan
loudly as I feel them moving deeper and deeper until she hits bone.
 The bond between us seals, the sparks intensify, and she grinds her hips
against me. Finally, her fangs withdraw, and she seals her mark with her lips
before she rests her head on my shoulder.
“You want to sleep?” My fingers trail over her back, soothing her tired
body.
“Just a bit.”
I kiss the top of her head and move us to our sides as she snuggles closer
against me, not daring to leave any space between us.
The corner of my lip lifts as I brush my fingers over the mark on her neck.
All mine, for eternity.

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 Chapter Forty-Six

A
s she rests upstairs, I know who is waiting for me. I could feel it in
the change of air when I moved through my house.
I step into my office, and there he is.
Ky Moreno.
Nothing leaves me as I take my seat, watching him closely. I know he
can’t break Izaiah’s word; neither can he break the agreement Rose and
Izaiah came to.
But I’m sure he wants to.
Badly.
You can take the villain out of his dark layer, but you can’t take the bad
out of him. He will always remain the antihero, even if he lives in his fancy
place. He will always have this need to want more, crave more, scheme his
way into having it all.
He glares at me with his two-colored eyes, and I grin when he notices the
mark on my neck.
“She did it, I see.” His words are meant to be an insult, but they aren’t.
 I don’t believe Rose’s love makes me weak. I might have thought so at
some point, but I now know I was wrong.
She makes me stronger.
“The things we do for love,” I retort with a shrug.
Love changed him, made him leave behind his purpose in life, his need to
rule all and eradicate the last remnants of the Old Bloods, just for the bond
of his mate.
He sighs. “The things we do for love.” He pauses and leans back in his
seat.
All this started because he wanted to change our agreement, desiring to
please his mate to bring back her first love, who was also the old Beta to
king Izaiah, her other mate.
All this stemmed from love.
And because Aurora has continued her plan, pulling herself from this
word. If she was still around, Ky wouldn’t even have dared to carry out
these little schemes of his.
“Tell me, why didn’t you respond to the letter?” he asks.
Oh, the letter. The one that told me he had Rose. I open the drawer to my
left and toss the letter on my desk as my gaze remains on the other letter in
the drawer, the response letter I got from the ones who have Dawson.
My last ace.
One I would need once Aurora finds out I screwed her over.
“You didn’t care?” he asks as he grabs the letter.
I shake my head. “Ky, I don’t get tricked into doing something that isn’t
part of my plan.”
“You were willing to give her up?” His brows knit in confusion.
 “Never, but I knew you wouldn’t kill her because you know what I would
have done after that.” If he had hurt her in any way, I would have destroyed
everything he holds dear.
His beloved mate, Elizabeth and her other mate, Izaiah. His kids,
everyone would have burned if he hurt what is mine. I would have
destroyed every wolf to get my revenge.
“You couldn’t have known.” He snorts as he shakes his head.
“I’m a patient man, Ky. I know more than you ever could.” I existed
before him and will live on after he dies. Wolves aren’t blessed with
eternity like us.
He pushes himself up, his jaw ticking.
“Nicely played, Ezekiel. Nicely played,” are his last words before he
moves for the door.
I’m sure he will try again, try something to get under my skin. Hoping I
might start another war.
However, I will never let him take her from me again.
I won’t be as patient as this time.
I promise.
Ky glances back before leaving. “How did you make them want to stay
here?”
I grin. “A trickster never reveals all his tricks.”

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 Afterword

Hi guys!

So, our first peek into the world of The Old Bloods! I truly hope you
enjoyed this stalker romance!

In 2024 we will dive further into this world and I can't wait for you to read
them! Aurora, Ky, Elizabeth, Izaiah, they will all return in their own stories.
And I'm not completely sure if our sweet Rose can just forget and forgive
what Ky did to her…

If you want to know more about what is coming, you can sign up for my
newsletter or follow me on instagram.

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