Page 92 of Silk and Sirens

Told you he’d prefer me in the end.

I swallowed the sharp, bitter sting of jealousy. The emotion was visceral and entirely unwanted.

I hated it. I hated him for making me feel it.

Caden wasn’t mine. He was just a pawn in the game. One I planned to win.

My phone rang, and I answered it before it had a chance to wake Anton.

“What?” I hissed, keeping my voice low.

I peeked around the corner, checking Anton was still lying on his back, one arm draped across his eyes, breathing slow and heavy in the dark.

“I think I’ve given him too much,” Vivienne said with an annoyed sound. “He won’t wake up.”

My stomach dropped. “You can’t give him too much, it’s formulated with⁠—”

“No, I didn’t use your stupid vial,” she snapped. “I gave him something else.”

My heart slammed against my ribs. “Then what the fuck did you give him?”

“The guy I bought it from said it was safe. That it would make him super horny and … cooperative. Like he was in a dream or something.”

Oh God.

“Vivienne, what did you give him?”

“He’s not moving, Aeris. He’s just … lying there.”

Panic exploded in my chest like shattered glass. I didn’t care about waking Anton up, scrambling for my clothes as my hands shook so badly I nearly dropped the phone twice.

“Where are you?” I demanded, yanking my dress over my head as I bolted for the door. I ran down the hallway, barefoot, pulse roaring in my ears. “Is he breathing?”

“Ugh, I’ll just send you the pin.”

I knocked on the hotel door like a scorned wife, making enough noise to wake the dead.

Vivienne yanked the door open with an irritated scowl. “Jesus, calm down. He’s just asleep.”

I shoved past her, finding Caden sprawled on the bed, completely unconscious. His shirt lay discarded on the floor, jeans shoved halfway down his muscular thighs. He wasn’t wearing underwear, but that wasn’t what made my stomach plummet.

It was his skin. He looked deathly pale, almost grey while his chest rose and fell in shallow, uneven breaths.

Ice flooded my veins as pure terror seized me.

Oh God. No. No, no, no.

My legs moved on instinct, and I dropped to my knees beside the bed, hands shaking as I pressed my fingers to his neck, desperately searching for his pulse.

It was weak, but there.

“I don’t know if I should be glad he passed out … I don’t think I could take all of that thing,” she giggled. “He’d rip me in half.”

My hands trembled as I brushed damp hair off his forehead. He felt clammy. Too cold. The strong, dangerous man who’d fucked me against a bathroom sink only a few hours ago now looked terrifyingly fragile.

“Vivienne,” I choked out. “What the fuck did you give him?”

“It’s just GHB. It must have mixed weird with the wine.”