I did this to her.
I will keep doing this to her.
Because I can’t stop.
I’ll keep breaking her until there’s nothing left but what I want her to be. Until she hates me as much as I hate myself. And even then, I’ll never let her go. Because she’s the only thing that reminds me I survived hell, even if I came out of it a fucking monster.
The new bunkeris bigger and better stocked. I still hate it. Every inch of it. Every person inside it. Every fucking thing that keeps me trapped here.
“Where’s Arsen?” I ask as Sovereigns rush past, hauling in more gear and setting up comms.
“Arsen?” Raze raises a brow, slamming a crate of ammo onto the table. “Where the fuck have you been, stray? Arsen’s been gone for over a week.”
“What?” My stomach twists. Have I really been so drugged and out of it that I lost days? A whole week? “Where?”
He digs a cigarette out of his vest, tossing the pack to someone across the room.
“He’s off trying to get?—”
“He’ll be back soon,” Priest cuts in.
“That’s impossible.” My voice sharpens, loud enough to turn a few heads. “He’s been here. He—” My throat tightens. “He’s been leaving clothes on my bed. Refilling my pills…”
Raze snorts a laugh. “You seriously think that was Arsen?” He tips his chin toward Priest, grinning. “You’ve been wearinghis shit this whole time.” He laughs again, shaking his head as he walks out. “Fucking clueless.”
I blink, trying to process the words slamming into me.
It was him?
He’s been the one leaving his shirts. The one stocking the nightstand. The one?—
I look down. My fingers graze the hem of the black shirt draped over my skin. My cheeks burn.
“Are you—” My voice shakes as I snap my gaze to him. “Are you fucking serious? This is yours?”
He doesn’t even glance at me as he picks up a gun off the table, loading it.
“It doesn’t matter.”
“The hell it doesn’t. I don’t want your shit, Priest. Not your shirts. Not your pills. Not anything.”
I spin on my heel, storm down the hallway, and shove the door to my room open. The shirt comes off fast, ripped over my head and thrown into the trash can. Leaving me in a sports bra and leggings.
The cold air hits my bare skin, and for the first time in days, I don’t care about the ache crawling through my body. I’d rather freeze than have him anywhere near me.
The soft click of the door shutting makes me whip around.
Priest leans against the wall, watching me. His gaze slowly slides over my stomach, up to my chest.
“Sothisis your plan, kitten? Walk around half-naked?”
I cross my arms over my chest, but it doesn’t stop the burn of his stare. “Stop fucking calling me that. And get the hell out.”
“It’s been a while since I’ve reminded you what happens when you run that mouth.”
He steps closer, closing the distance between us until his heat burns into me, his chest brushing mine with every shallow breath.
“Get. Out.” My voice is sharp, but my pulse is a riot, traitorous and loud.
