Take him down. Go into hiding—I knew how to exist in the shadows. Figure out where Rafe was and how to save Jordan. Get the fuck out of here.
Those were my tasks, the only reasons for my existence right now, and I would not stop until I was successful.
Just as I launched myself forward, the guard spun, wrapping his long arms around me before we both disappeared into a dark, shadowed spot behind a building. He moved so fast that it was a full few seconds before I even threw my first punch.
"Always with the violence, little Violence. You never learn."
Everything in my entire fucking body froze as I trembled against familiar muscles.
"Rafe?" I choked out.
I could still barely tell it was him—his military outfit hid him completely—and if it wasn't for those blue-as-fuck eyes staring down at me, I'd never have known.
My hands were shaking as I reached up and slowly pushed the mask from his face, freeing up his dark hair and his lips. "Fuck," I sobbed.
We stared at each other, and after my moment yesterday with Jordan, I was scared about who I might find in the place of the prince I loved. Rafe had always been more unpredictable. More volatile. I wondered if this experience had pushed him to a place so dark that he would tip over the line he walked.
"Have you been with the military the entire time?" I finally asked, desperate to know everything. "Have you seen Jordan?"
Rafe's face darkened, and if murder had a face, it would be his. The fury was almost palpable in the air around us. "I escaped after a week and left enough evidence so they'd think I took off to get help. I've tried to break Jordan out, multiple times, but he insists that by staying where he is, he's keeping you alive. The asshole won't leave."
I gasped, my hand pressed to my chest as it felt like my heart was shattering beneath my palm. The pain was so great I would have doubled over if Rafe weren't right there keeping me standing.
"He told me that he was done with me." I gasped over and over. "He pushed me away. But he's protecting me?"
Rafe's chuckle was dark. "Of course he fucking is. His part is Prince Charming. Mine is your darkest nightmare. We play our parts pretty well, don't you think?"
His asshole nature was enough to knock some sense into me. Briefly, in my grief, I'd forgotten that we were all in a very dangerous situation with a very dangerous man running the show.
"Are you supposed to be taking me somewhere?" I asked Rafe.
I would not allow him to go into a cage, not when he was free and we could work together, and that no doubt meant we had to play this game a little longer.
"Yes. You're due back in the reprogramming room. We should hurry."
He fixed his mask, and my heart ached at his beautiful face hidden away from me again. "When can we talk next?" I whispered as we set out on the path again. "We need to plan our escape."
Rafe just shook his head. "I need you to stay alive. I'm watching your back, but I'm also watching Jordan's and can't be in two places at once. Don't worry about the plan; something is in the works."
He refused to talk to me again, and afraid that we might be overheard, I kept my mouth shut and an annoyed expression on my face as I followed him. I was desperate, though, to reach out and touch his back. The movement of muscles beneath his shirt was all but mesmerizing.
Why didn't he kiss me?
Rafe might not have acted like Jordan—he seemed reasonably normal, actually—but there was a tension wrapped around him that I didn't like. And he'd barely touched me.
The building of my nightmares came into view, and I shuddered. Despite the fact it was all surrounded in well-manicured lawns with no potential for an ambush, I knew that what waited for me inside was way worse than any sort of random attack.
As we neared the back entrance, a scream died in my throat when Rafe jerked me into his arms, lifting and carrying me into the side alley, his grip biting and possessive.
"What—"
My words were cut off when he ripped his mask down and crashed his lips into mine. His tongue demanded entrance, stroking against mine in the same instant I gave it. He lowered one hand, slipping it down the front of my pants to rub me through the material.
Everything was a blur as I lost myself in that kiss, rocking against Rafe and his clever fingers that could bring me to the edge of an orgasm through my pants and in a situation like this.
The pressure and pleasure built, and I barely managed not to scream when I came, Rafe's mouth swallowing my moans. We must have set some sort of land-speed record with how fast it was, but that was just what Rafe did to me.
His touch was my fucking Kryptonite.
He lowered me to the ground, my knees like jelly as they locked back under me.
"I'll see you soon," he murmured, pulling his mask up over his lips and nose again.
I nodded, not even fucking sure what had just happened, but knowing I needed to get into the building right now. Stumbling off on shaky legs, I was almost out of the alley when he called back.
"Oh, and Violet?"
I turned.
"If Uriel gets into your bed one more time, I will go on a murder spree that will make the Monarch War seem like a children's program."
The air shimmered between us with a fucking lot. Anger, lust, pain, power, and... love.
It was there, even if Rafe never admitted it.
It was there.
Chapter 9
That brief encounter with Rafe gave me the strength I needed to survive the grueling day of reprogramming Uriel had planned for me. When the horrific, edited images swarmed the screen in front of my eyes, I switched off and pictured Rafe's eyes as he told me he'd see me soon. Those words, that touch of his lips... of his hand... that was what allowed me to hold my sanity.
More than anything, though, it was his reassurance that Jordan hadn't turned on me. The more I thought about it, the more I realized he was right. There was no way I could have made it out of the compound with Jordan that night. My plan had been flimsy at best, and it'd clearly been a test that Uriel had set up. He'd known I would take any opportunity presented to me and had probably gloated to Jordan about it.
If they were using Jordan's safety to keep me in line, I had no doubts they were doing the same to him with my safety. And my foolish Prince Charming wouldn't ever risk me, even though he knew I could handle it.
Those shining beacons of hope buoyed me and kept my head above water as Uriel increased the pressure over the next few days, but by the time our eight-day agreement had come to an end, I was losing faith.
Two things were clear. One, that Rafe's idea of soon was vastly different from my own. And two, that Uriel had no intention of honoring our agreement.
Day eight came and went, and my sensei gave no hint he even remembered our deal, let alone made any moves to free me. I couldn't speak up about it, either, or I'd completely ruin the small level of trust I'd rebuilt. My total compliance in his reprogramming had finally started to sway him, and the suspicion and anger was fading from his interactions with me.
Day nine, it all went to shit.
Uriel burst into my apartment before dawn, waking me up and setting my pulse racing. He was scruffy and smelled vaguely of whiskey and cigars, like he'd been up all night celebrating something.
"Uriel," I said cautiously, sitting up in bed and reaching for a sweater to put an extra layer of fabric protection between us. "What's going on?"
He crossed the room and yanked the sweater out of my hands, tossing it away before looming over me. "Don't presume to question me, Rose," he replied in a dark growl. His eyes were glassy and the alcohol on his breath was practically flammable.
Fear flashed through me as he climbed onto my bed, straddling my legs and pushing me back into the pillows with a rough hand. Sober Uriel was capable of some atrocious things, but he was predictable and with all my knowledge of how he worked, I could sometimes manipulate him.
Drunk Uriel? Capable of fucking anything. The last time I'd seen him intoxicated had been the night I'd stupidly thrown myself at him, believing my naive sixteen-year-old self in love. He'd used me, then tossed me aside with a few callous words about how I "wasn't ready" for him. At the time I'd thought he meant my lack of experience in bed, but now I knew better. He'd meant that I wasn't ready to fall into his plan to topple the monarchies.
"Uriel—" I started to say, but his hand wrapped around my throat, cutting off my voice.
"You think you're so fucking smart, don't you?" he snarled, his face twisting with anger as he tightened his grip around my throat. I was no stranger to being strangled by him and knew how to survive long enough for him to get over whatever had triggered his murderous rage. He always stopped eventually, even if I had passed out by that time.
Except this time something was different. His eyes glittered with darkness, and he was growing hard against me. His tightening fingers constricted against the veins of my neck, cutting off the blood supply to my brain as well as air to my lungs, and fear coursed through me at a million miles an hour. I couldn't panic, though. I couldn't show any reaction. He'd trained me better than that.
A commotion at my door pulled Uriel's alcohol-impaired attention, and his hand eased long enough for me to suck in a huge, gasping breath.
"I told you, no interruptions!" my sensei roared at whoever had just opened the door.
The guard—I assumed it was a guard—said something back, but I couldn't make out the words. My ears were whooshing with my thundering pulse as blood returned to my head and air into my lungs. Fucking Uriel. I'd forgotten how scary his rages could be.