A violent shudder passes through me. I’d kill myself before I let that happen. That Russian’s putrid flesh is the first and last violation I’ll ever have to endure.
I vow it to the Gods.
Getting off the floor, my head swims, it’s like a sauna in here.
“My brother is going to kill you," I tell Buzzcut, mopping the sweat off my face with the stained red top.
The man just grunts. I try to look at him with disdain, but it’s hard to ignore the landscape of his back. He’s heavily inked withdark, crude tattoos and what people call “ripped,” I guess? I’ve seen museum statues with less muscle definition. A strange, hot tingle zips down my spine, and my face starts to burn. This is so humiliating. I was nearly destroyed an hour ago, and now my body is deciding to be… interested?
No. Not curious. Gross. I’m being gross.
Fuck. Apparently, I’m just as basic and human as everyone else. Fantastic.
I’ve been locked away from anyone my own age—especiallyguyslike him—all my life, so it’s just a natural curiosity.
Though, it feels deeper than that.
Beneath the stink of blood and sweat, I can almost smell pine trees, wet earth. It settles my nerves in a way I hate.
What the fuck?
Snap out of it, Aurora. Seriously. He’s a criminal, you’re in a cage, and you are acting like a total weirdo.
“Cosmo will tear this place down brick by brick,” I growl, trying to find my footing and stop my stupid gawking. “And when he finds you, I’ll laugh as he slices you into pieces.”
“If the Dragon shows up to burn Quo Reformare to the ground, I’ll hand him the matches myself,” the man chuckles.
Dragon?
“I’m talking about my brother, Cosmo Drakeward.” Is this guy high? Or is he just trying to confuse me?
He rolls over, groaning slightly. The bruising on his cheek looks painful.
Good.
I study his face because I can’t look anywhere else. His hair is buzzed so short it’s just a dark shadow, but there’s this thick, golden-brown stubble along his jaw. He stares back with eyes the same color—warm, gold, and currently filled with a tired amusement that makes me want to scream.
“Fuck. You don’t even know, do you?” he scoffs.
Why is he speaking in riddles? And why is it so hard to breathe in here?
It’s the heat. Definitely.
I huff and turn my back on him. I refuse to ask, “know what?” even though I’m dying to. I won’t give him the satisfaction of seeing me struggle.
Ugh. I wish I had a fan.
The douchebag throws me a bone anyway. “I met your brother not long ago.”
Yeah, right. I let out a sharp laugh. “That seems unlikely. You don’t exactly run in the same circles. Unless Cosmo started hanging out in back alleys and I missed the memo.”
“Whatever you say, Princess. But it’s the only reason you’re on my block and, unfortunately, why you’re my responsibility. So simmer down and don’t cause trouble. I don’t want the Dragon breathing down my neck because his sister couldn’t keep her mouth shut.”
My mind is racing at a hundred miles an hour.
Could this Gravedigger know Cosmo?
AndTheDragon? What is it with the nickname? If Cosmo had an alternative identity, it would be Lord Darkness or something stupid like that.
