My throat tightens.
I don’t look away.
“I already did.” His chest convulses, a sharp, broken inhale. “I need to know what it means.”
“No.” His hand fists in my hair, dragging my head back with a force that’s desperate rather than cruel. “You don’t need to know.”
“Damien—”
His grip tightens.
His forehead presses to mine, his breath shuddering, his whole body vibrating with something jagged, something splintered beneath the skin.
“I won’t let him take you.” His voice fractures, too thin, too raw. “I won’t.” His other hand fists the chain on my ankle, tugging it, grounding himself with its weight. “I’ll lock you so tight he can’t fucking breathe near you.” His chest crashes against mine—desperate, dangerous, drowning. “I’ll bury you in me.”
And God—I want him to.
I think I want to be buried there, in the dark part of him, the part that’s breaking open like a wound.
Even if he’s breaking.
Even if he’s slipping.
Even if there’s a part of him I’m not allowed to see yet.
His thumb drags across my lip, slow, trembling.
“Say you’re mine.”
“I’m yours.”
“Say it louder.”
“I’m yours.”
“You’ll never leave.”
“I’ll never leave.”
“You’ll never believe him.”
“I’ll never believe him.”
His mouth crashes to mine—savage, filthy, frantic—like he’s trying to swallow the message, the memory, the fear. His grip drags me closer until I feel like I’m folding into him, sinking into him, disappearing inside the fracture line he’s been hiding.
The monitor buzzes again.
A final message blinks across the cracked screen.
Good.
Keep her locked up, little boy.
I like to watch you cage yourself.
Damien’s breath shudders.
His lips drag over mine.
