“Liar,” I snap because I can’t stand the awful truth. Deep in my gut, I know what they are saying is true, but waves of doubt tangled with terror wash over me until I’m drowning in it.
“You’re ours.” Reaper’s voice curls around me like smoke, lined with possessiveness. His hand leaves my hair, and he cups my cheek, leaning down. Our gazes collide, and all the darkness that lives in him swirls, like he’s gathering it up, ready to pour it into me. “We told you we’d never let you go. Don’t you everdoubt that again. Never doubt me. You’ve been mine for so long, you’ve never belonged to anyone else.”
Reaper lets me go, and I press my face to the ground. “Just do it, already,” I grate. “Let’s get this over with. Take the belt to me. Punish me.”
Hurt me, so I don’t have to feel this gnawing yearning.
Fuck me. Ruin me.
Love me.
So much that they can’t stand it. So much that they never send me back or put me in harm’s way. Love Cora madly. Free her from Rune and bring her to me. Then we could all protect each other, and no darkness would ever touch us again.
Not Rune. Not Fallon.
Nothing.
A choked sob escapes. Tears spill onto the ground, soaking the dirt and leaves under my cheek, the weeks here flashing through my head, turning everything I thought I knew upside down.
Fallon made me doubt myself. Them. Everything. I finally accepted that this awful ache that grows every time they look at me, every time they touch me, glows too gently to be anything but love. It’s too bright and warm, and I can’t begin to unravel whether it stems from whatever games they’ve played with my head or if it’s from all the things I’ve learned about them.
I don’t think it matters.
It just is.
But Fallon just ripped it away, and I’m left once again wrapped in fear, hoping for the impossible. That all of this will be worth it.
That they aren’t just manipulating me.
That they are mine.
A palm slides across the back of my neck, warm and steadying. “Princess,” Striker says, voice low. “We’re not hurtingyou.” His hand squeezes, getting my attention. “Everything you feel right now? He’s going to use every bit against you, and you’ll break.”
But they’ve already broken me.
“Kitten.” Reaper's stern tone slides over me, heating my cold skin. “Eyes on me.”
Chapter 50
Delilah
Fireignitesinmycore. Viper lets go of my boot. Striker releases my other foot as Reaper unfurls his fingers from my wrists. Breaker eases me up onto my knees, crushing my back to his chest.
My gaze lands on Reaper, kneeling before me, and my chest cracks. Dusty dirt covers the fabric over his knees. His shirt. Shadows play over his powerful body; the fading light flickering through the canopy, turning him into just a massive shadow. The mask and melting skull hide every emotion and every feature. I have no idea what he looks like. No clue how many tattoos cover his flesh under his clothes.
The only thing I know is the feel of his body against mine. The heat and hardness of him moving into me. The taste of his mouth.
He’s confessed in subtle, earth-shattering ways that this dark, tangled up and confusing feeling that stretches between us isn’t one-sided. It’s lust and fear, and it pulses with a heat that makes me want to combust.
He’s everything I shouldn’t want but everything I crave.
Reaper’s dark eyes burn into me, black as midnight, devouring light, my sanity, and I know deep in my gut this man is my absolute undoing.
The words tear from his throat, rough and gravelly. “Keep looking at me like that, Delilah.”
A warning.
A promise.
