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“You’re staring,” I say, taking a sip of my coffee.

“Am I?” he asks.

I’m staring too. It’s hard not to. The bruises on his neck, his smooth skin. I want to devour him all over again. Mark his entire body with my hands and mouth.

God, I need to calm down.

“What are you thinking?” I ask.

“Last night,” he says carefully, placing his mug on the counter. “I guess I’m just wondering where it leaves us.”

“Where do you want it to leave us?” I ask.

From the time I could think for myself, I’ve always known what I want. There was never a single doubt as I relentlessly pursued becoming The Head of The Snake, following my mother wherever she’d let me follow, sitting in on meetings with The Keepers, collecting secrets and handing out favours and patiently sitting through my first serpent tattoo already envisioning the second one.

When I first met Alex, I convinced myself that I didn’t want him, even when it was embarrassingly obvious, even when I didn’t kill him for what he was about to do. I’m not that naïve anymore.

“I told you what I want,” I say, stepping into his space. He doesn’t back away, only looks up at me with a curious look on his face.

“I still work for the OCU.”

“And?” I lift my eyebrow.

“You will be Head of The Snake.”

I shrug. “Sounds like a power couple to me.”

He laughs, shaking his head. “You’re ridiculous.”

I hold his cheek and kiss him, “And you’re mine,” I tell him, caught by surprise each time I say it because of how much I mean it. Alex is mine, and I’ll make sure it remains that way.

Chapter Nineteen: Alex

Ispend the afternoon with Halle and it’s late when I return to my apartment. Her lawyer says it’s possible that the case could come up again, but without the Arnold family’s backing, Homicide has no reason to pursue it and waste department resources. She’s in the clear and I feel lighter than I’ve felt in months, maybe years.

I yawn, shuffling through my apartment, exhaustion from last night and this morning finally catching up to me. After I wash my face, I return to my living room, curling up on my couch with my favourite vanilla scented candle burning and a TV show I mindlessly watch playing in the background.

Rain falls outside, the soft tapping of water droplets hitting against the large windows. I stare at it for a moment, debating whether I should call Rowan or whether that just makes me look desperate. As new as this is, and as much as I don’t know what we’re doing, I still want to see him. I still want to be in his orbit—to be around him constantly. It feels just like the first time I fell for him, both thrilling and anxiety-inducing.

Is it too desperate to call him after I just saw him?

Maybe if this was a normal relationship, I’d resist the urge but there is nothing normal about Rowan and I. It’s a strange shift that has happened so quickly, yet naturally. Less than two weeks ago, he was close to slitting my throat and now, I’m throwing words out like relationship.

I swipe to his number, hesitating as my thumb hovers over the call button. My pulse thrums in my ears. The need to hear his voice outweighing every doubt. But just as I’m about to press it, an email notification slides down on the screen.

My stomach knots as I tap on the message, my hands trembling. The words stare back at me, sharp and accusing, the air in the room seeming to run out as my eyes read over the words.

Looks like you found another way to get your sister’s case dismissed. I thought we could trust each other, Alex…

I read the lines again, and again, until they blur together. My mouth goes dry, and my chest tightens with an uneasy rhythm.

Suddenly, my phone buzzes violently in my hand, startling me. An incoming call from an unknown number flashes on the screen. I flinch, and it slips from my hand.

“Shit.”

It clatters onto the tiled floor, the sound sharp and the screen cracking. It continues to vibrate, the sound grating in the silence of the room.

Then comes a knock.