“I dare you to kiss me.” I want to be his first.
He says nothing. Does nothing. He just stares at me, jaw still ticking, body still tense and primed to bolt.
My stomach sinks deeper beneath the dirt the longer he stands there. Oh God, he doesn’t want to. I’ve made a mistake—misread all the signs that he saw something in me; that I could be worth more to him than just sex.
I open my mouth and spew whatever words come to mind to save face. “What? Too scared to do it? Think I’ll bite? Didn’t take you for a quitter?—”
Lynx grabs my face and presses his lips to mine. Time stops. The insects stop singing. The wind stops blowing. It isn’t hot or cold or anything between.
I’m not in my body anymore. Whatever or wherever I am, it seems to be lost on me until the barest, almost indiscernible groan rumbles from his chest. Then I come alight. And when my lips move, I swear I hear him whisper, “Finally.”
Every flicker of self-doubt, every ounce of rage, every time I’ve sat seething or crying without tears, it all disappears from my mind as I wrap my arms behind his neck and kiss him back like I’ll die all over again if I don’t—because that’s how he’s kissing me.
Like I’m the first drop of water and the very last, and his final act of survival. Our lips move together as if demons are pounding at the door and this is our last goodbye. He cups the base of my skull and wraps his arm around my back to pull me closer.
A thousand fireworks seem to go off all at once. I didn’t know anything could feel this way.
Lynx pulls away suddenly, stumbling back and glaring at me as he presses his fingers to his lips. I don’t know what’s worse: not being able to tell what he’s thinking, or telling myself he regrets what he did.
“This—” The rasp in his voice is just as sharp as his ragged breaths. “This was just a game.”
And with that, he turns and storms back through the door, taking my dignity and last shred of hope with him, leaving me outside alone in the cold.
He’s lying, I tell myself in the same breath I think that I should’ve never trusted a demon.
24
Lynx
Each page is the same as the last time I flicked through it. The words that make no sense. The rituals that could destroy mankind. The patterns on the leather that are rigid and worn. I trace the edges, wondering if giving myself a papercut with the book from Hell might wake me from this nightmare.
Not even being cursed to spend the rest of eternity in Hell was as bad as this. I eventually was able to handle it down there. Up here? Around her? Not knowing why I feel the way I do?Thatis my own personal version of Hell.
The heaviness of the grimoire in my hands rivals the anxiety in my chest right now.
Sable kissed me.
Her lips were on mine, and it just made everything worse. She should’ve stopped the game and ended this. We were getting along—learning about each other and on the path to possibly enduring each other’s presence for a little longer. Now, I thinkif I laid eyes on her, I’d materialize on that cliff again and hang myself from it.
I don’t like Sable. It would never work. And there would never be a world where she would even contemplate having feelings for me. We’ve fucked and messed around, yes, but I did those things in Hell and walked away with no emotions, so what’s so different now? Why do I want to kiss her again?
My brain has been my enemy all day. Full of thoughts of her regretting it, or even worse, wanting it to happen again.
My eyes scan the pages of the grimoire, but I’m not taking anything in. Because, I fear, a huge part of me isn’t ready to leave her.
I slam it shut and toss it onto the table, thebangechoing into the hall I march down.
If I find a way out of here, I’ll try to take her with me. The fact that a soul sucker already attacked her and more will likely come following its death means she’s in too much danger here. Not only that, but she’d be alone, in this house, forever.
My conscience won’t allow that to happen.
Fuck.
“Sable?” I ask, knocking twice on her door.
I sigh, leaning my shoulder against the wood, waiting ten seconds before knocking again and saying her name louder.
I can’t hear any movement, and I frown when I realize… I can’t sense her.
