Total pages in book: 102
Estimated words: 100493 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 502(@200wpm)___ 402(@250wpm)___ 335(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 100493 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 502(@200wpm)___ 402(@250wpm)___ 335(@300wpm)
What made you this way? Probably fucking me.
His pupils dilate as his grip loosens. In a flash, that softness is gone, jaw hardening. My legs turn to jelly and it takes all my concentration to not fucking drop.
“No.” His thumb circles the side of my cheek before he leans in, lips grazing mine. “You have to be safe, Venom.” This was the Asher I rem— “Only I get to kill you.”
Reality collapses around me as he walks away.
Only I get to kill you.
I had it twisted. Asher isn’t addictive because he’s a drug. The drug is dirty. It’s the part people don’t want. Asher is the high. He’s what makes you crawl back for more.
Of course he wouldn’t make this easy for me. Asher is young, but he’s not stupid. He’s years beyond his age.
And I’m a fucking idiot.
I push forward with Daniel trailing behind me. We hit the main foyer and I scan the room, wondering which door he went behind.
“Ivy…” Atlas calls out, but his voice dies in the background as my hand finds the handle of the door beside mine.
His body moves between me and my plan. “Wow! No, you don’t want to go in there.”
“Move, Atlas!” I shove his arm out of my way.
As if I could see worse than I already have.
His hand slips into mine briefly, taking my phone.
“Fine!” he yells from behind, and the door swings open as the words leave him. “I warned you…”
Asher flicks a pen across his desk, leaning back in his chair and zeroing in on me. “What now, Venom?”
“Listen.” Now that I’m here, I forgot why it was important.
Why was he in a rush to get away from me, anyway?
His gaze follows my movements, as if my presence doesn’t bother him the same way it keeps me up at night. He’s going to kill me anyway, may as well word vomit my way into the ground.
“I can’t miss this,” I repeat, lowering to the single sofa that faces him. It’s far enough to grab a weapon if he attacks, but close enough to catch every emotion.
He holds my stare. “You said that already.”
I could tell him. Tell him about our family tradition, but he won’t understand what it means if he doesn’t understand how it started in the first place.
This is bad.
Emeric is going to lose it. I can’t. Or… maybe he already knows? Since he seems to be privy to so much already.
Even if he doesn’t, I’m sure this whole situation is way out of L’Abattoir Codex. Surely the rules are moot at this point. I don’t remember a section of if kidnapped and being held against your will by a subject you thought you killed, who also happens to be the only man you’ve ever loved, here is what you are to do…
“I need to tell you something.” I hold my breath.
Twelve.
Twelve years old, I turned off the faucet that fed my emotions and swore never to allow it to open again. Clearly, I missed the times that Asher had slowly worked to loosen it.
He already knows what I do, but he doesn’t know the mechanics of it.
“Stop.” His lip curls, the edges of his stare darkening.
Even dressed casually, he fills the room with more power than anyone would in a suit.
How, after all the people I’ve been toe-to-toe with, is it him that brings me to my knees?
A groan distracts me from behind. “Ah, fuck. My bad...” Atlas murmurs, as Asher’s long legs eat up the space between us.
His words are for his twin but his focus never strays from me. “Get out.”
The door clicks closed as Asher rests against his desk, fingers wrapping around the edge. He squeezes so hard I swear I hear the wood splint before he releases the tension.
“Don’t.” His face stays hard as stone. “I already know.”
My mouth opens, needing him to elaborate but also fucking terrified if he’s right. “What?”
He drags his tongue across his lip, looking to the side briefly before a sarcastic chuckle leaves him. “I already know.”
My stomach bottoms out. “No, but…”
“But nothing,” he snaps, baring his teeth. “Don’t say another fucking word.”
A chill spreads through me, freezing me in place.
I fell in love with Asher because he was the opposite of the men I knew, the men I was around, the man I married. I loved him because he knew how to be gentle and funny, yet another side of him could be hard and protective. I saw it once and wanted more.
He’s a damn honey trap with pretty eyes.
We don’t say another word, but the world slows, failing at translating the silence that passes between us.
Finally, I shake my head. “Impossible. How long have you known?”
My chair scrapes against the floor before I realize I’m pushing away from him. “Who are you?”
How would he know exactly who we are? No one knows who we are but the people who are meant to know. Not a single intelligence in the world could scope us, so how could someone like him?