Page 2 of Malevolent Hearts
He leans forward in the armchair, and I note the claw marks along his neck. A flash of last night infiltrates my mind. Snapshots of my dress pushed up around my waist, back bowed over the classic seat of his 1964 Impala El Diablo. Memories of my lust-filled cries. Visions of his hand gripped around my throat while he trailed his tongue over my hardened nipples before feasting on my pussy as if it were his last supper. A wave of heat contracts between my thighs as I recall us tangled together, him worshipping my body with his fingers, his mouth, his dick. I may hate him now, but I loved every second he begged me to cry out his name. I always have.
Confusion settles along my brow… what happened between then and now? How the fuck did I go from the throes of pleasure to tied up in the watchtower of a lighthouse along the Ring of Kerry, three hours from home?
My gaze swings back to his, and I’m sure he can read the unspoken question running through my mind. Unfazed, he draws the crystal to his lips, swigging back a mouthful of amber before swiping his bottom lip with the tip of his ring-clad thumb. “Sorry about the ropes, Sleeping Beauty. But desperate times and all that.”
I may be tied to this bed like a torture victim, but there is one thing wrong with my future husband’s assessment. Fuck being the helpless princess in need of a prince. I may have trusted a wolf in sheep’s clothing, but there isn’t a chance in syndicate hell I’ll become his victim.
Fury like no other licks my skin as I fight against the restraints confining me to the four-poster bed at the top of Dingle’s cliffside lighthouse.
I tug on the ropes around my wrists, cutting him with a devious look of my own as I clamp down on my teeth. “Hello, Cadden.” My snark appears as my lips tip to the side, unwilling to give him a shred of satisfaction. “It seems you have my character arc a little twisted. Don’t insult me by making me appear weak. Aurora needed a man to save her. I can save myself.”
“S’pose you’re right, snowflake. You could never be the victim. You may be a Killybegs princess, but I know you better than that. Maybe Maleficent would be more fitting, am I right?”
“Betrayed by the one who she thought loved her, only to seek revenge by burning his kingdom to the ground? I dunno, Cadden… does that sound like something I would do?” Sarcasm drips past my lips as a new-found fire courses through my veins.
“You don’t know the half of it, and honestly, B, when you figure out how much damage has been done, I’d be shocked if you didn’t fight back. After all, your fire is what made me fall in love with you in the first place.”
“Don’t patronise me. This isn’t love, Cadden. It never was.”
“Lies.” His gaze bores into mine, and for a split second, I want to believe there is remorse shining back at me from the eyes I know so well. His free hand dives into the longer strands of hair on the top of his head, tugging with something that resembles frustration. “Loving you gave him the power to destroy me, and that’s exactly what he did. I was given a task, Mal, and I made a choice, even though I knew it would dismantle the one thing I would kill for.”
“What the fuck are you talkin’ about?”
“You’ll see. And when you do, you won’t need to pretend you hate me anymore. Those lies you tell yourself will be redundant. Hating me won’t be our twisted version of foreplay, instead, it will be our reality.”
Panic weaves its way up my throat, but instead of showing weakness, I do what I do best, I fight. Pulling on the restraints keeping me bound to the bed, I thrash, using every ounce of strength I have, but it’s no use. “Untie me, Cadden,” I hiss through clenched teeth.
He bows his head, muttering under his breath. “I wish I could, but it’s for your own good.”
This is my fault. I lowered my guard and allowed him to waltz right in, past the boundaries I use to keep myself safe. I have no idea why I am here, but I can guarantee whatever the reason, I won’t like it. Suddenly, I start to drift off again, and another memory from last night takes over.
Liam called my phone.
Worry laced his tone when he told me to stay home after I lied to him about my whereabouts.
“Just be careful. I have a bad feeling.”
“I’ll be fine, Liam. See you back at the house.”
“Love ya, B.”
“Love you too, brother.”
Every word he spoke was gritty, the gravel embedded in his authoritative tone before he hung up. He told me something was off. He was worried for my safety, and I told him a bald-faced lie. I should have heeded his warning. I should have told him the truth, maybe then I wouldn’t be fucking tied up against my will. Stupid fucking Beibhinn.
I recall the moment everything went black. Piece by piece, the puzzle forms.
I’d been standing on the side of the road, fixing my dress after Cadden had fucked me until I saw stars, screaming at him because he wouldn’t take me back to Kill Castle, to where my internal twin senses told me I needed to be.
Cadden paced frantically as he urged me to get back in the car.
I’d known something was wrong, but I didn’t know what. Then the sky exploded, and when I turned to find flames licking the horizon, my knees buckled beneath me as a roar ripped from my throat.
The memories all flood back now.
Cadden wrapping his arms around me, stopping me from falling to the asphalt as I prayed everyone I loved was safe from whatever caused that explosion. My back against his chest, he cradled me closer, before… ramming a needle into my neck, stealing my senses.
I’m snapped from the memory when realisation dawns. “You,” I start, but my words slur as sleep drags me under. “What did you…”