Soft, yet assertive, dominant—that's the only way I can possibly describe my kiss with Void. It left a tingling sensation on my lips, a light buzz that wouldn't fade. Maybe it's because he pulled at my bottom lip before finally pulling away. I touch my mouth, and they feel a little swollen. For someone who wants to murder me, that was a very passionate kiss.
I look over at him. He's glaring at me again. I'm seated across from him in the car. Occasionally his knee brushes against mine, snapping me back to reality.
This man is a goddamn perverted psycho. Simple as that.
Him whispering, "I'll fucking kill you," and then proceeding to announce me as his bride? If that isn't mixed signals, I don't know what is.
"Why didn't you just stand still!" he growls suddenly, and I jump back, fear spiking through me. For a moment I think he might actually hit me.
"Look at what you made me do, Rose. Are you crazy? Don't you have any natural survival instinct!?"
"That was my survival instinct, dickhead!" I snap back without thinking.
In an instant, his hand is on my throat, pressing hard. My breath hitches as his golden eyes lock onto mine.
"Say that again," he threatens.
I claw at his arm, but I don't give in. "Fuck you," I rasp, no longer fearing death. Somewhere deep inside, I've realized that since I'm his bride—and his mother's necklace lies buried somewhere in my body—he can't kill me. I can use this. Work a plan around it. Maybe even free Rain.
Our eyes meet. His golden irises burn with lethal intent, but damn it, they stir something else inside me too. My gaze betrays me, drifting to his lips. The same lips that were pressed against mine earlier—warm, soft, delicious. God help me, I'm lusting after the man who wants me dead.
He releases me suddenly and leans back in his seat, as if nothing happened.
"Count your days, little human."
I scoff, rubbing my neck. It's definitely going to leave a mark. What an asshole.
The rest of the ride is silent. The driver has been nothing but a ghost this entire time—silent, obedient, as though he doesn't even exist. Occasionally, Void glances at his phone and frowns, looking stressed, like some millionaire who just lost to another millionaire in a business venture.
By the looks of it, we're driving out of the city. The Crystal City glitters behind us, breathtaking at night, its lights soft and gentle on the eyes. I smile to myself. For a fleeting second, I imagine being queen of it.
I chuckle at the thought, which earns me another glare from Void. I ignore him. Bride? Me? What about this Ayanda woman he's so desperately yearning for? I bet she's dangerous too. Hopefully rational. Hopefully she'll understand that I don't want her mentally ill boyfriend.
I rub my forehead. I'm in shit. Deep shit.
The car finally comes to a halt, and my stomach sinks.
We're in front of a cabin hidden deep in the safari. At first glance it looks normal, but my blood runs cold. The air here is wrong. Heavy. Suffocating. The windows are too dark, like dead eyes. The wooden walls loom as though they're soaked in secrets. For a terrifying moment, I swear I smell iron—old, dried blood.
This doesn't look like a king's hideout. It looks like a slaughterhouse.
Panic hits me. I grab the car handle and bolt, but I'm yanked back by my hair.
"Ahh!" I scream as I hit the ground. In one swift motion, he hauls me up again, pinning both my hands in one of his.
I growl. Actually growl. The sound rumbles out of me like an angry cat.
He freezes, surprised. Hell, even I'm surprised. I try again, but this time it's just my normal voice.
The driver holds back a laugh. I glare at him.
"Fuck you," I spit.
Void just shakes his head, throws me over his shoulder, and carries me inside. Fighting him is pointless. He'd catch me in an instant.
Inside, the cabin is nothing like the outside. It's cozy, warm. Shades of brown, black, and white. Soft amber lights. It almost feels… homey.
"This will be our hideout for a few days, while I figure things out," Void says casually, kicking off his shoes and loosening his tie like he owns the place. He pours himself water and takes a slow sip.
Then he looks at me. "Go take a shower. And don't try anything funny. I don't want to kill poor Rain."
I sigh in defeat and drag myself toward what I presume is the bathroom.
As soon as I close the door, I break down. My knees give out and I slide to the floor, sobs wracking my body.
This can't be real.
I've endangered Rain's life.
I'm turning into some kind of creature.
And worst of all, my mom was right—
I'm a fuck up.
I wipe my tears and start undressing, stepping into the shower. I clean myself of the last couple of days. The water feels good on my skin, refreshing. For a moment, I almost forget my troubles. Almost being the key word.
I finally finish my shower and step into the only room with clothes packed neatly. I unfold them—they're Void's. The clothes smell strongly of him. It's almost comforting.
These feelings that seem to grow for Void are not my own. They belong to the necklace that wants me to be with him, cling to him. But I barely know him, and so far, I've only seen his ugly side.
The strong smell of food makes my stomach growl, and I immediately make my way to the kitchen.
Void is busy dishing out takeout. He looks handsome under the dim light, his dark hair glistening. For a second, he looks like a normal human man. A sweet one, even.
He takes two plates to the living room, placing the food on the table and dragging one of the chairs so that they face each other. He glances at me and signals for me to sit.
I do as I'm told. I'm too hungry to argue.
I take my plate and immediately start eating. Void is polite and patient with his food, but I devour mine quickly.
Void stares at me calmly. He doesn't look angry. He looks… at peace. Definitely not happy, but at peace.
I freeze. "What?" I manage, barely above a whisper, wiping my mouth clean.
He smirks, and unease floods me. I tremble, bracing for the worst.
"You're mine now, Rose Steelberg."
"Wait—what?" I respond, shocked by his words. They aren't romantic. They sound like something a stubborn kid would say just to prove a point.
"You belong to me," he says, voice low and certain.