Page 33 of All The Darkest Truths (Second Sons Duet #2)

capable of. Not you. Not the rest of them.” I move again until we’re chest to chest. “I want this. I want you.”

He lunges forward, one hand tangling painfully in my hair while the other grips my throat.

His mouth crashes against mine with bruising force, nothing like the controlled kiss we shared moments ago.

This is hunger unleashed, primal and dominating.

I taste blood. Mine or his, I'm not sure, as his teeth catch my lower lip.

The weapons cabinet rattles behind me as he slams me against it, his body pinning mine, which leaves no room for escape. His fingers tighten around my throat, not enough to cut off air but enough to make my pulse thunder in my ears.

I should be afraid. I should push him away. Instead, I find myself responding with equal ferocity, dragging my nails down his back hard enough to leave marks even through his shirt.

“Is this what you want?” he demands. “To be at my mercy? To surrender everything to me?”

“Yes,” I breathe. The word hangs between us.

“I don't believe you,” he challenges me. “Words are easy. Prove it.”

His hands leave my hair and throat, moving to my hips as he spins me to face him again.

“On your knees,” he commands, his voice leaving no room for negotiation.

I hold his gaze for a heartbeat, making sure he knows this is my choice before I slowly sink to my knees on the cold concrete floor. The basement air prickles against my skin, but it's nothing compared to the heat building inside me.

Alex looks down at me, something shifting in his expression. “Good girl,” he says, the praise sending an unexpected shiver through me. His hand cups my cheek, thumb tracing my lower lip with surprising gentleness. “But, as I said, this isn’t the time."

Confusion washes over me as he steps back. "What?"

“Stand up," he says, offering his hand to help me up.

“No,” I answer, swatting it away before I shove myself off the floor on my own.

“You can't keep edging me like this, Alex.

You can't keep pulling me in and pushing me away.

Either you want this, want me, or you don't. I'm done with the mixed signals,” I continue, my chest heaving with anger.

“One minute you're pinning me against walls, the next you're acting like touching me would burn you. It's exhausting.”

“You think I'm playing games? That this is fun for me?”

“I don't know what this is for you! The second I show you that I might actually want it too, you shut me down. You’re giving me blue ovaries, Alex.”

“I am not a good man.” His voice scrapes like shattered glass. “I’ve spent my entire life learning how to destroy people from the inside out. Not just enemies—lovers, partners, anyone who dares to get too close.”

He stalks toward me with wicked grace, backing me against the cabinet once more. This time, there's no desire on his face, only a cold, brutal honesty that makes my breath catch.

“You think I'm holding back because I don't want you? I'm holding back because I've watched what happens when I don't. The last woman couldn't even form complete sentences by the time I was done with her. The man before that killed himself.”

I swallow hard but hold my ground. “I'm not them.”

“No, you're not. You're stronger, which makes it worse.” His fingers trace my jawline. “Because I could go further with you. Push harder. Take more.”

“Maybe I want that,” I challenge.

“No, you don't. You want the fantasy of it, the edge, the thrill. But what I need...” He shakes his head. “I don't just dominate in the bedroom, Vesper. I consume. I own. I remake people until they don't recognize themselves anymore.”

“You're trying to scare me away.”

“I'm trying to save you.” His palm flattens against my chest over my heart. “I've destroyed every person who's ever tried to love me. Turned them into fragments of who they once were.”

This is his truth—raw, jagged, and real. I realize now what he’s been hiding behind those walls. Not just shadows, but devastation.

“You think you're the only one with a destructive streak?” I seethe, refusing to back down. “I've got demons too, Alex.”

“Not like mine. The things I need...the things I’ve done.

..I’ve broken people, Vesper. Men and women who thought they could handle what I am.

” The confession falls between us like shattered glass.

“I’ve left them empty shells, hollow versions of themselves.

And I refuse—” His voice catches, revealing a crack of vulnerability.

“—I refuse to do that to you until I have better control of myself.”

The revelation hangs between us. This isn't just about desire or compatibility. This is about Alex believing he's fundamentally toxic to anyone who gets too close.

“You think you'll destroy me,” I say, not a question but an understanding.

“I know I will.” There's no arrogance in his voice, only certainty. “Shattering you will strip away that last piece of humanity inside of me. I can’t let that happen.”

I search his face, seeing beyond the cold exterior to the pain beneath. The fear.

“I don't think you give me enough credit,” I say quietly. “Or yourself.”

“This isn't about credit. It's about protection. Your protection.”

“From you? The man who's risking his life tomorrow to save my brother?”

His jaw tightens. “Those things don't erase what I am.”

“And what exactly are you, Alex? Because from where I'm standing, you're a man terrified of his own desires. A man who's convinced himself he's some kind of monster because that's easier than facing the possibility you might actually be worthy of a connection.”

“You don't know what you're talking about.”

"Don't I? You think you're the only one who's afraid of what they're capable of?

" I step closer, refusing to let him retreat.

"I've fantasized about killing The Collector.

Not just killing him, making him suffer.

Making him experience every moment of pain he's inflicted on others. Does that make me a monster?”

“I’m worse than a monster. I’ve tried to bury it.

Starve it out. For years, Vesper. I did everything I could to lock this part of me away.

The part she created.” His mother. His first kill.

The decaying root of the darkness inside of him.

“That part of me? It never left. It’s always there.

Right under the surface. Just one thread away from snapping loose.

And if it does…” His voice drops. “There’s no putting it back. ”

“I’ve seen that side of you, Alex. It doesn’t scare me. Do you think I’d love you any less for embracing that side of you?”

“You should be. I’ve let myself get close to someone, thinking that maybe this time things would be different, but voices are still there. That night you shared my bed? The voices begged me to mark your skin.”

My chest tightens, but I stand my ground.

Alex thinks he’s so unredeemable because of what his mother trained him to be, but my own father did the same to my brother.

The same for Oscar, Zaire, and even Talon.

This world we live in doesn't allow for weakness. The families breed ruthlessness. It’s the only way we can survive.

“If you knew the kind of thoughts I have,” he goes quieter now, like it’s a confession meant for no one.

“The kind of things I fight every goddamn day just to keep from drowning in it. If you knew what I did to your uncle after you put that bullet in him...You’d run because it wasn’t justice, Vesper.

It was feeding the monster that I am, on your behalf.

That’s who I really am when no one is watching. ”

His words hit me like a physical blow, stopping me in my tracks. “What did you do to his corpse?”

Alex’s expression hardens, any trace of emotion slipping away behind a wall of detachment. “That’s not something I’ll ever tell you. Not now. Not ever.”

“You can't just drop something like that and then refuse to explain," I argue, frustration building in my chest. “You're using these vague confessions as another wall to keep me at a distance."

“It's not a wall. It's a boundary. One I won't cross. No matter how much I want to."

“For your sake or mine?"

“Both." His eyes are cold again, distant. “Some things are better left buried, Vesper. What I did...that's why I can't let myself get close to you. It's for your own good."

Anger flares hot and bright within me. Always the same excuse. Always deciding what's best for me without giving me any say in the matter.

“My own good?" I spit the words back at him. “You don't get to decide that. You don't get to use whatever this is between us like bait and then yank them away when I bite.”

“I'm not trying to?—"

“Save it," I cut him off, already turning toward the stairs. “I'm done with this conversation. Done with your cryptic half-truths and self-imposed martyr complex. If you want to push me away, just say so. Stop playing games, Alex.”

I turn and storm toward the basement stairs, frustration and hurt burning like acid in my chest.

“Do you know why I am going tomorrow instead of Oscar or Zaire? Because I’m the one you can live without. If it comes down to a choice tomorrow," Alex's voice cuts through the basement, stopping me at the foot of the stairs, “if it's between Talon coming back or me, I'll make sure it's him."

I freeze. The words hit me like a physical blow, knocking the air from my lungs.

“I'll make sure Talon comes back to you," Alex repeats, his voice flat and certain.

“No!" I lunge back down the stairs, crossing the distance between us in seconds. "You don't get to make that call. That's not your choice to make."

Alex's face remains impassive, as if he's already resigned himself to this fate. "It is my choice. The only one that makes sense."

“The hell it is!" I grab his shirt, bunching the fabric in my fists. "You don't get to decide who's worth saving and who isn't."

“I'm being practical.” His voice is maddeningly calm. "You need Talon. You need the twins. They ground you, protect you, give you what you need."

“And you don't?”

“I'm the expendable one, Vesper.” He gently pries my fingers from his shirt. "The one who doesn't fit. The one who's already broken beyond repair."

“Stop it. Just stop.”

“It's the truth. I've made my peace with it. If something goes wrong tomorrow, I need to know you'll be okay. And for that, you need them.”

“I need all of you. Especially you.”

He shakes his head. "Vesper?—"

“Promise me, Alex. I need to hear you say it." He studies me for a long moment, something shifting in his expression.

"I'm sorry." His thumb brushes away a tear. "I can't make that promise."

"Then I'm coming with you," I declare, my voice steadier than I feel. "If you won't promise to come back, I'll make sure of it myself."

Alex's jaw clenches. "We've already been through this."

"And we'll keep going through it until you understand. I refuse to send you off like some sacrificial lamb."

"It's not a sacrifice if it's a choice."

"It's not just your choice to make!" The words burst from me, echoing off the concrete walls. "You think your life belongs only to you? That what happens to you doesn't affect the rest of us? Affect me?"

"I don't understand why you're fighting so hard for this," he says quietly. "For me."

The vulnerability in his voice cuts deeper than any of his earlier confessions. This is the real Alex, I realize—not the calculating mastermind or ruthless hacker, but the man beneath it all who truly can’t understand why anyone would fight for him.

"Because you matter to me," I say simply.

Alex stares at me, something shifting in his expression—disbelief warring with a desperate need to believe.

"You don't mean that.”

"I do. I've lost too much already. I won't lose you, too."

He closes his eyes, breath shuddering between us. For a moment, we stay like that, heartbeats syncing in the quiet of the basement.

"I'll try," he finally says. "That's all I can promise. I'll try to come back."

It's not the absolute guarantee I wanted, but it's honest. More honest than he's been about anything else.