Twisted Together (Monsters in the Dark #3)(12)

The airplane tyres slammed against tarmac as we went from flying to charging down the runway. My heart had been left in the clouds, dancing with the knowledge that a man so loyal and amazing as Q loved me.

I'd gone from unwanted to idolized. The shift in my world was so earth-shattering, I didn't know how I stood or followed Q down the steps after we'd taxied to the airport. I existed in a bubble of awe as Q guided me into a sleek black limousine, and we pulled out of the airport. We hadn't spoken, too flayed open to risk admitting that his letter had done what words could not. It gave us hope.

Safely seated in the back of the limo, Q turned to me, asking softly, "Now, do you understand?"

My eyes shot to his, holding his tortured gaze. "Now, I understand."





We're altered, we're abnormal, our souls stained with each other's mark. Our souls are that of monsters born in the dark



Time was a fickle bitch.

It seemed only hours since I met Tess. Seconds since I touched her for the first time. Only moments since I hunted for her to take her home. All those blocks of twenty-four hours that built a wall from ever finding her had disintegrated, seeming to hurl me headlong into the future-the future I wanted so fucking bad.

My heart stopped as my mind filled with Rio. Seeing her like that-naked, tortured, bound-enraged me to the point of shedding all human fakery and turning savage. The metallic stench of death still coated my nostrils; the warmth of spilled blood steaming on my hands. Tess had looked like a corpse-a cracked out, mentally broken corpse. They'd infected her mind, her lungs, her very fucking soul, and I'd stolen her back only to lose her all over again. 

It seemed only a minute ago when Tess walked away from me, shutting herself off forever, inciting panic, causing me to free all my birds because I couldn't stomach the thought of ever caring for another life. It felt as if it were yesterday when I broke down and let her take my life-using me to spew all her internal blackness away.

I'd hoped it would be enough. I'd hoped I no longer needed to watch the hands of time, fearing Tess's state of mind.

But time liked to fuck with me.

Instead of Tess growing whole again and leaning on me to help, she lied.

Every lie she told whittled at my temper until I knew eventually I'd explode. I could only accept her tales for so long before I forced her to tell the truth.

For three weeks she healed. We spent time together as man and woman rather than master and slave. We became friends.

Friends who didn't tell each other anything.

I sat in the back of the limousine staring at the woman who owned my balls, body, and heart, but ultimately she was a ghost. An unknown riddle of human spirit who was too stubborn to burden me with any of it. Why couldn't I get her to accept me? Why didn't she trust me to help? She'd let me brand her. She wore my ring. I knew she was mine. But the knowledge meant jack-shit when she lied so blatantly.

Nothing would grant me peace because I knew she had no peace. It was elusive, evasive, and I was fucking tired.

Tess suddenly scooted across the seat, pressing against my side. Her blue-grey eyes connected with mine, looking so pure, so fucking ancient. Her soul was mangled and bruised and the light that'd always existed no longer glowed like the cosmos; now it flickered-spurting with blinding light only to be dimmed by sorrow. Sorrow she refused to talk about.

I'd tried to show her the depth of my feelings by sharing that ridiculous letter. I'd regretted giving it to her almost instantly-those were my chaotic thoughts, not for her to read. Scribbled in the dark while she thrashed with dreams.

But in a way, I was glad she'd glimpsed into my psyche. She owed me the same courtesy. I could force her to share hers-a trade.

Grabbing a handful of her silky blonde hair, I held her still. Threading my hands through the strands, I made my way till I cupped the back of her neck. Her cupid lips parted, sending a thrill through my stomach to my cock. I'd struggled the entire four hour journey with a massive hard-on. She'd kept her eyes closed most of the way, but I knew she wasn't asleep.

I knew because she wasn't drenched in sweat and screaming like the holocaust had come again.

"Let me fight them for you, esclave." My fingers tightened around the delicate cord of muscles. She felt so breakable, so damageable. It was a lie. Her body may bleed, her bones may break, but her mind? That was a fucking fortress.

And I wanted in.

I wanted to ram the gates, cross her moat, and send an entire army of artillery to massacre her nightmares. I needed to know what swirled and swelled behind her eyes. I needed to know how to help her.

"Just by being you, you're fighting them for me." She bowed her head beneath my hold, giving me her weaknesses, her vulnerability.

My mouth went dry at the thought of threatening her. Squeezing her throat until she spilled her unspoken secrets. Maybe then I'd find the truth.