Page 30 of Revenant

Something drops over my head, plunging me into complete darkness. Before I can move, a strong arm wraps around me, pinning mine to my sides while a hand covers my mouth, muffling the scream that tears out of me. The scent of leather and tobacco floods my senses, and I struggle, instinct overriding everything else, uncaring that I’m as naked as the day I was born.

“Keep squirming like that, little spawn, and I’ll take you right here against the wall.” The voice skates over my skin like a dull razor blade—smooth, but with the adrenaline rush of the possibility of getting cut.

My body goes still. “Bastian?” I ask, the sound muffled until he drops his hand from my mouth.

“The one and only,” he muses, running the tip of his nose up the length of my neck, deeply inhaling my scent…and my fear. “Now be a good girl and come with me.”

Without warning, Bastian scoops me into his arms, cradling me bridal style. “If I see you so much as reach for that hood, spawn, I’ll make good on my intrusive thoughts. Do I make myself clear?”

“Where are you taking me?” I shriek, twisting against his hold. “At least let me put on my clothes!”

“Trust me, you’re better off without them.” His laugh rumbles against my spine—nothing like Pryce or Koen’s earlier warmth. His is lower, more sinister, and I have a sinking feeling if I don’t do what I’m told this could end very badly.

Against my better judgment, I nod, keeping my hands away from the fabric blocking my eyes. Trying to listen to any sort of clue as to where we are or where we’re going. But unfortunately, aside from Bastian’s footsteps and the pounding of my heart, any other sound gets lost to the wind and the chattering of my teeth.

I know he opened a door at some point and carried me down a short flight of stairs. But I can’t imagine we’re in the main part of the school. There’s no chatter, no snickering or whispered commentary about the fact that I’m still butt-ass naked.

Wherever we are, it’s isolated.

A breeze slips through the space, brushing over my skin like icy fingers. My breath catches, and my nipples pebble instantly. Feeling completely exposed, I instinctively bring my arms up to cover myself. His hands are startlingly warm against my bare skin, one splayed across my back, the other curved beneath my knees, and I hate myself for leaning into the heat of them.

An almost animalistic, low growl comes from Bastian, shaking my entire form. Unable to meet his gaze, I pull myself in tighter, hoping to conceal myself, and he stops moving.

“Wha—What are you doing?” I ask so quietly it almost feels like a thought instead of sound. He doesn’t answer, but we stay where we are. I can feel him watching me—analyzing—and every nerve ending hums painfully awake.

There’s something intoxicating about not being able to see him, only to feel his massive body holding mine—but I’m acutely aware of his breath, his proximity, the space he takes up around me. His breathing turns uneven as the seconds stretch on, and I get the sense that if this goes on much longer, I won’t be able to pretend this isn’t just tension. A part of me is intrigued by him. If he meant me harm, he had his chance in the shower. Still, the rational part of me knows I don’t actually know him.

Isn’t there a rule about never letting your attacker take you to a second location? This man gets me one sandwich, and I’ve already failed step one. I’m doomed.

Heat pools between my thighs, his scent becoming intoxicating. I press my knees together, hard enough I wouldn’t be surprised if there are bruises tomorrow. His grip tightens around me, as if he’s warring with himself, trying to talk himself out of doing something he might regret.

“Trust me, I wouldn’t regret it,” he whispers under his breath, like the thought escaped before he could stop it.

Every inch of my skin becomes hyperaware of where he’s touching me and where he’s not—and I don’t know which is worse.

11: Koen

“Where the bloody hell is Bastian?” I seethe, pacing back and forth, effectively wearing down the soles of my new Armani loafers. “He should’ve been here ages ago.”

“He gets carried away sometimes, you know this,” Elias comments, seemingly unbothered.

Annoyance edges my every word. “Not with her.”

“Can’t teach an old dog new tricks, Koen. And he’s a very old dog,” he notes, a subtle edge of condescension in his calmness. “I offered to do it.”

“Oh yeah, like Pryce was ever going to let that happen,” I deadpan. “Had you been left alone with her, she wouldn’t be breathing.”

“You don’t know that,” Elias snaps. “I never said I wanted her dead.”

“You didn’t have too.” I scoff, a laugh threatens to escape, but I bite it back. There hasn’t been enough time for Elias to understand or come to terms with our new reality. The bonfire was a setback, a misjudgment on all our parts. Alicent’s blow up—though not directed at Elias—surely dragged him back to before. I can’t deny my role in how much she was feeling—the anger, the animosity—they were already there. I just…amplified them a little.

Unsurprisingly, Pryce has been the most welcoming to her—not that I blame him. Once you get past the initial shock, it’s obvious she’s nothing like Veil. It’s hard to explain what Alicent does to a room, only that you feel lighter and more alert the second she’s in it. Veil wore her superiority like a crown, but Alicent needs no crown at all. She draws people in without ever seeming to try.

I’ve had to fight to keep my distance, but today I couldn’t help myself. Eryx didn’t actually need Pryce; I just wanted the opportunity to get her alone.

“Ah, so you’ve joined her ranks then? How very predictable.” Elias chuckles darkly, mocking me without mercy.

“Of course not,” I dismiss, cheeks warming. “But we were supposed to start…I don’t know…” I push my sleeve up just enough to check my watch. “Half an hour ago. And yet—where are they? There’s no Pryce, Bastian, or Alicent.”