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My blush deepens. “I don’t think I’ll ever go back to the OCU.”

He tilts his head. “That’s unfortunate. I was hoping to use you for inside intel.”

“Rowan—”

“I’m joking,” he says, his gaze softening.

I sigh, deciding it’s best I’m honest with him now. “I don’t want to be part of The Snake either. At least I don’t think I want that, but I want you and I know having you means being involved one way or another.”

He nods. “That’s fine. You don’t have to explain yourself. I’d have never asked that of you. I just want you here, and that’s the truth. I just love you.”

My heart squeezes. “I love you too,” I whisper, walking over to him and throwing my arms over his shoulders. My mouth finds his, my lips touching his softly as I deepen the kiss. Rowan’s hands travel down my back before resting just under my ass. He hoists me up in a quick swoop, placing me on the counter. A breathless laugh escapes me, but I don’t dare to stop kissing him.

Only, Rowan breaks away first, eyes gleaming. “Move in with me,” he says.

“What?” My eyes fly open.

“Please move in with me. I promise I’ll make sure the house is always stocked with as much cherry flavoured candy as possible.”

My breath catches, travelling to the first time I saw Rowan again in that bar. It’s only been two months, and with November closing out, it will be three, yet none of it seems too quick. It all feels right, like we’ve picked up right where we left off.

“Promise?” I ask.

He grins. “Promise.”

I shrug. “Then my answer is yes.”

He laughs, pulling me in again, sealing our promise with a kiss.

My hands sneak under his shirt, running against the hard muscle of his taut stomach. When I look at him, lust flares inside me in an unrelenting flame. He’s gorgeous, and he’s all mine. The thought of it makes me grin.

“Something amusing?” he asks.

I shake my head. “Just kiss me.”

He grins, his mouth smashing against mine again. “With pleasure.”

Chapter Thirty-One: Rowan

Iwalk through the twisting basement halls of the Serpentine. The air down here is cooler, stale, far removed from the modern sleek glass and metal upstairs. My father’s accommodations are tucked at the end of a dimly lit hallway, past guards with rifles in hand, who bow their chins or nod when I walk past them. We’ve kept my father here since The Choosing and his conditions are far nicer than what Key had in Sying. It’s more than he deserves.

The guards have made a make-shift cell: a single cot and a wooden table and chair. It almost looks domestic.

My father sits on the cot, dressed in grey, wrinkled cotton pants and a t-shirt. He’s unharmed—a little dishevelled, but that means Xander hasn’t gotten to him yet. His silver hair is dull, his eyes lacking their usually vibrant colour. I think I can count the number of times I’ve seen him without a suit. Seeing him like this, stripped of his power suit and expensive watch feels … wrong.

When I step into the room, he gives me a curious look, a smile dancing on his lips. “Hello, Son.” His voice is deceptively warm.

“Hello, Father.” The word feels like ash on my tongue. He’s not my father—not anymore. We may share blood, but that’s where the connection ends. He has my mother’s blood on his hands, and nothing will ever be the same because of it.

“Son.” He nods.

The air smells faintly of disinfectant, the buzz of the lights filling the space like the hum of an insect too close to the ear. My eyes fall on the lone chair, and I pull it closer to me. It scrapes on the floor, cutting through the strange silence.

“Tell me about Haze,” I say, sitting across from him. “Why did you do it when you knew it was going to kill people?

He tilts his head, a glint of amusement in his eyes. “Thinking of selling it yourself?”

I shake my head. “You know I have no interest in murdering kids.”