Page 46 of Sinister

A tightness coils in my chest. Did I mean what I said? Maybe. I’m not sure. I just know I don’t like being toyed with. I won’t be controlled—not by another arrogant man I barely know. Our only connection is a handful of secret letters passed in the dark.

My heart races. I swallow hard. Am I already regretting this?

No. I can’t regret protecting myself. This is about my safety. My survival.

Just as the light breaks through the mouth of the alley, a hand grabs me.

I gasp.

He pulls me back with terrifying swiftness. I never even heard him move.

In an instant, he pushes me against the wall, his body close—too close.

“What did I tell you, Petra?” he says, voice low and dangerous. His expression is no longer gentle. There’s something unhinged in his eyes. “You do not threaten me with withholding yourself.”

Before I can react, before I can scream or protest, his hand rips at my veil. In a single motion, it’s torn from my head and falls to the ground.

I suck in a ragged breath. My lungs feel crushed.

He sees me. And yet—he doesn’t look surprised. If anything, there’s a sick satisfaction curling at the edge of his mouth.

He leans in, his breath warm against my skin. I turn my face away, eyes shut tight.

“Leave me alone,” I whisper.

He says nothing, just leans closer. His lips brush the side of my face, traveling up to my ear. Then, teeth—light and sharp—graze my earlobe. A shiver races down my spine.

I should be afraid. I am afraid. And yet . . . there’s something eerily familiar in his touch.

“Please,” I whisper again, weaker this time. “Leave me alone.”

“Sin,” he breathes. “My name is Sin.”

He steps back. He picks up my veil from the ground and gently places it back over my face, securing it.

“Sin,” I repeat. The name tastes bitter. “That’s . . . blasphemous.”

“Yes,” he replies, his smile crooked. “It is.”

“Why would someone name you that?”

I ask the question before I can stop myself, forgetting—if only for a moment—what he’s just done.

“Perhaps that’s a lesson for another day.”

“Another quid pro quo,” I scoff. “How is it an exchange when you take what you want anyway?”

His features darken. “That’s the first lesson, Petra. You cannot say no to me.”

Laughter bursts from my lips, sharp and bitter.

“Now I understand,” I say. “This is why they call you Sin. Because you sin with every word, every deed.”

Anger floods me, burning away any remnants of confusion or affection.

I step forward instead of shrinking back. I jab my finger into his chest.

“I see now why you kept your name from me. Because it’s as ugly as you are.”