The circle of her followers tightens, and I feel the weight of their stares like needles pricking my skin. The woman with the dagger tilts her head, her painted face twisting into a grin as she twirls the blade with a casual dexterity that speaks of violence simmering just beneath the surface. Her gaze flicks between Lilith and me, waiting, anticipating the blood that she seems certain will be spilled.
One of the men inches closer, his mouth twisted in a sneer, and his eyes filled with something almost feral. I keep my grip on Lilith, every muscle tensed, but I don’t break my focus, don’t show the apprehension simmering beneath my skin. If I’m going to make it out of here, I’ll need to keep my wits sharp.
“Lilith, enough games,” I mutter, though I know it’s futile to reason with her. She lives for moments like this, for the thrillof holding someone’s life in her hands, of watching them squirm under the weight of her control.
She raises a finger and runs it slowly down my chest, eyes alight with that same sick amusement. “Oh, Ash, you don’t get to call the shots here. Not in my world.”
Another man steps forward, the giant with the spikes on his fists, his breath coming in slow, heavy exhales that remind me of a predator catching the scent of blood. He lets out a low, animalistic growl, his eyes locked on me as if sizing up a meal. His shoulders roll back, muscles flexing under the taut straps of his harness, and I can see that he’s itching for Lilith’s command, ready to unleash the violence simmering in him.
I glance around, assessing each figure. They’re not just henchmen—they’re addicts, every one of them hooked on Lilith’s darkness, feeding off her twisted charisma like she’s the very air they breathe. There’s a loyalty here, yes, but it’s poisoned, warped, the kind born from shared trauma and obsession.
Lilith tilts her head, drawing her face close to mine, her voice dropping to a whisper only I can hear. “You thought you could cage me once, Ash. Thought you’d outgrown me, moved on. But you never really did, did you?” Her fingers trace the edge of my jaw, nails grazing my skin just enough to sting. “You may be here for your little pet now, but I know you better than anyone. You’ll never really escape me.”
She’s taunting me, testing every boundary I have. And she’s right about one thing—I’d be lying if I said some dark part of me wasn’t drawn to her chaos. But this isn’t her show anymore. Not this time.
Ignoring the circus freaks circling like vultures, I grip her wrist and pull her in close, letting her see that my patience is razor thin. “If you lay one finger on Dove, if you even thinkabout touching her,” I hiss, my voice like iron, “I’ll burn this entire circus to the ground. And I’ll start with you.”
Lilith’s eyes widen for a fraction of a second—a flicker of surprise, perhaps even intrigue. But it vanishes just as quickly, replaced by a smile that twists into something dark, something sinister. She takes a step back, holding her arms out to her loyal pack, almost theatrically.
“Fine, Ash. Play your little game,” she says, her voice a dark lullaby. She flicks her fingers, and the surrounding circle begins to break, her followers stepping back into the shadows with an eerie, synchronized obedience. But I know her better than to think she’ll let me walk away without some twisted parting gift.
“Until next time, then,” she purrs, her gaze slipping back into something unreadable, something almost feral. “Give my regards to your little pet.”
And just like that, the darkness swallows her entourage one by one, the flickering lights and low laughter fading into the distance as they vanish back into the shadows, leaving nothing but the faint echo of their presence and the sickly sweet smell of circus greasepaint lingering in the air.
I stand there feelingthe thick of the silence surrounding me, annoyed that I hadn’t found a resolution for the impending dangers that surrounded me.
She hadn’t mentioned Bentley James, only that her obsession with the asylum was growing, and that wasn’t the news I was hoping to hear.
That was the only thing keeping her here—that damnasylum and I still wasn’t sure what the fascination was that kept her here.
Trudging back through the woods, my head is filled with panic for my little bird. I knew I shouldn’t have taken her, but each day I had seen her, the intensity to have her had grown.
I needed her like I needed air to fucking breathe, but if keeping her put her in danger, I wasn’t sure I could do it.
God dammit, I just wanted her to fucking love me. I wanted her to choose to stay because she wanted to stay and I wasn’t sure if I’d broken through her walls and climbed into her pure, innocent little heart.
I was running out of time.
The walls were closing in. Lilith was an inconvenience, but Bentley James was a threat I needed to get rid of and I couldn’t have Dove around when that happened. Maybe it would be best if I did just let her go—for now.
I’d come back for her. I could never fully let her go, not now, but maybe I needed to let go while I fixed the world around her.
My body feels heavy as I get closer to the house. It feels like the darkness has wrapped its talons around my body and it won’t let go.
I needed to say goodbye to my little bird, let her fly and if she didn’t come back, I’d find her and show her that what I feel for her is real, that what we had built here it was all real.
I would never go back on my word. I did want to keep her. She was mine, but I needed to burn the world around her to keep her safe.
She was all that mattered.
My sweet little dove.
19
DOVE
Ashton moves around the kitchen with a quiet ease, the air rich with the scent of rosemary and garlic as he chops, sautés, and stirs, fully immersed in each step. I’m seated at the counter, my wrists free from the shackles for the first time in days, and even though I know better than to think it’s an act of mercy, I can’t help but feel the small thrill of freedom in the unbound feeling.
