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ELLA

I ceased the gentle swaying of the rocking chair and arched a questioning eyebrow at my husband. “Sebastian, is it really necessary to play ‘Eat Your Young’ while I’m trying to put Alaric down for his nap? If he doesn’t sleep soon, Verity will wake up, and I won’t have any time alone with you.”

A silly smile eased over his handsome face as he danced across our living room to the beat of Hozier’s song. He kissed my forehead before he gazed down at his sleepy, nine-month-old son.

He gently cupped my chin, gliding the pad of his thumb along my jawline, leaving goosebumps in its wake. “These are the moments that I’ll hold in my heart forever. I love you so much. You’re an amazing wife and mother.”

My eyes misted over, and I blinked the tears away.

“Baby, I didn’t mean to make you cry.” He placed his warm palm against my cheek, and I leaned into his touch.

“I’m fine. It’s just hormones.” I wasn’t sure if it was, but it would explain why I was so emotional. Besides, carrying twins for nine months had taken a toll on my petite frame. I’d spent the last four weeks of my pregnancy on bed rest, feeling bored and miserable. Thankfully, my best friend Cami visited for a week, providing much-needed company and distraction. Unfortunately, those long days had given me a considerable amount of time to think, and I worried that my husband would tire of my constant moods and insecurities about the changes in my body. Our babies had been delivered by C-section, which had left a scar, but it had started to fade. And not once had Sebastian made me feel any other way than beautiful.

Even though I hadn’t gotten many, I now had stretch marks on my sides and belly. I was self-conscious at first, but then Sebastian called them my “warrior stripes” and told me I should wear them with pride. When we finally had sex again, he lovingly traced each mark and kissed it tenderly, before he said, “I love this one … and this one.” His deep Australian accent made me weak in the knees and nearly sent me into a hormonal frenzy. I hadn’t realized how much I’d missed him until that moment.

Regardless of the exhaustion and changes in my body, witnessing what a wonderful father Sebastian was made me fall in love with him even more. I never thought it was possible to experience that level of happiness, and my heart swelled with an overwhelming sense of contentment and joy.

I glanced at his ring finger, noting he wasn’t wearing his wedding band. His headaches made him sensitive to jewelry and some days even clothes. He had let me know that on those days he put his ring in my jewelry box for safekeeping until he felt better.

Sebastian grunted and stepped away, reaching for the sides of his head. I’d learned to read the signs of a coming shift. It started with a headache and a slight tremor in his leg.

The headaches had persisted for over a week now, and I couldn’t help but worry about him.

“Are you all right?” I asked, my voice carefully neutral. But even as I spoke, I knew Sebastian would brush it off and try to convince me that everything was fine. But it was only a matter of time.

I stilled as my husband dropped to his knees. His handsome face twisted in agony as he held his cry in.

“It’s okay. I’m here, baby.” I quickly glanced at Alaric, who was still awake.

A sense of foreboding hung heavy in the stagnant air, and Alaric attempted to sit up and look around, his attention on his father. The bond between Sebastian and Alaric was strong, that much was clear. But as I watched them together, a cold fear crept into my mind. What if their connection wasn’t just familial, but something darker? The thought of Alaric or Verity being bound to Death on a level beyond comprehension terrified me. But then again, maybe it wasn’t just his father that he shared this deep connection with. Maybe it was …

My husband’s head slowly rose as if trying to orient himself to his surroundings. His once-piercing blue eyes faded into a cold, steely grey as he stared at me with a calculating and sinister gaze. But beneath the surface lurked a familiar hunger. A need to hunt. A need to claim—to claim me.

“There’s my queen.” His Australian accent disappeared while he stood and squared his shoulders.

“Hi.” I gave him a genuine smile. It had been three months since Death had appeared, and I’d missed him more than I could have imagined.

With a confident stride, he approached us, his jawline sharp and his stare intense. Tilting my chin up, he placed his lips over mine. His mouth was warm and commanding, making me moan softly as he tugged on my lower lip with his teeth. Sebastian was everything I could want in bed. He made me feel loved and sexy, which had helped me feel less insecure when Death had finally returned.

My tummy somersaulted as I recalled how Death had ravaged me the last time we were together. My body still tingled with the memory. Now that our children were older and I’d healed, I craved his demanding and sometimes brutal touch more than ever.

As if sensing my thoughts, Death’s hand moved to caress the front of my throat, his thumb gently stroking my sensitive skin. He looked down at our son, who was excitedly grinning and kicking his feet. It warmed my heart to see them like this.

“Son.” Death’s voice cracked. Every emotion possible was wrapped in that one word. “Come see your father.”

I held Alaric out to him, watching in awe how Death was a savage killer but so gentle with his family.

He held Alaric in his arms, lightly bouncing him while he walked the room. “Is it nap time for you, Alaric?” Death’s attention scanned the area before it landed on me again. “Where’s Verity?”

“She’s already down for her nap. I think this little guy was waiting for you.” I rose from the chair and approached them. “How are you?” I pushed up on my tiptoes and pressed a gentle kiss to his soft lips.

“Ready to bring my queen to her knees.” He flashed me a wicked grin, and my legs turned to jelly.

I bit my lower lip before I responded. “Then I guess you should focus on getting your son down. The nanny will be here around two this afternoon to take them to the park for a few hours.”

“Excellent. I need to handle some business, but I’ll be back after the kids are gone.”

I understood what he was hinting at, although he attempted to keep me away from his extracurricular activities. As a result, I didn’t bother asking for any details.

“While you’re spending time with Alaric, I’ll clean up.” I pointed to the baby spit-up that covered my lilac T-shirt. Eventually, I might be able to wear something nice again, but with the twins, there was no use in trying until they were older.

I hurried up the staircase, my feet light on each step. I paused as I reached the babies’ room and gently pushed open the door. The soft sounds of Verity’s breathing filled the air as she lay nestled in her crib, her tiny lips making small sucking noises as she slept soundly. My heart swelled with love as I watched her for a moment before continuing to my bathroom.

Ten minutes later, I was freshened up and wearing a black sundress with a pretty pattern of bright-colored flowers. My teeth were brushed, and I’d removed the hair tie, allowing my long, dark locks to tumble over my shoulders. Feeling a little more human, I strode down the hall and stopped at the twin’s room again. Death carefully bent over Alaric’s crib and lowered his son to the mattress. He covered him in his blue summer blanket, then turned to Verity’s bed. He remained still, watching her sleep.

My heart lodged in my throat with an onslaught of emotions—love, pride, fear, and excitement. Being married to Sebastian had its complications, but moments like these made me forget all my concerns. I had everything I could ever hope for: Sebastian, Death, kids, my parents, and friends. I lived in a beautiful home in upstate New York in the middle of nowhere, surrounded by the beauty of hardwood trees at the edge of the forest. It was quiet and peaceful. We also traveled whenever we wanted to. Sebastian’s private plane allowed us to pack up the babies and fly anywhere we dreamed of. The kids would be well versed in travel and different cultures, which made me happy that we were able to offer them those experiences.

As I stood alone in the quiet of my thoughts, I couldn’t shake off the feeling that something was missing. It wasn’t anyone else’s fault … it was my inner darkness that I had tried so hard to suppress after I’d killed John, the man who had repeatedly molested me and other children. But I had to push the forbidden craving away when I found out I was pregnant. My babies were more important than fueling that side of me. Even though I’d left my job at the lawyer’s office, where the adrenaline rush of dealing with dangerous men had been a constant presence in my life, I was now married to someone even more powerful and potentially dangerous. So what was it? The loss of adrenaline? Or had Death awakened something vile inside me? Were Alaric and I connected on a dark and twisted level? Was he more like me and craved the darkness? Stop! You’re a mother. You can’t entertain those kinds of feelings and memories of what you did to John anymore.

The barely audible sound of Death’s footsteps approached. His stormy grey eyes held a fleeting moment of sadness before they settled on me. I reached out and placed my hand on his chest, feeling the softness of his silk shirt beneath my palm.

“They have grown so much already,” he said, looking back at the sleeping twins.

“Yes, they do that. Grow up quickly,” I replied, trying to ease the tension apparent in his shoulders.

“How long do they normally nap?” he asked, shifting his weight from one foot to another.

“Usually a few hours. Once Lulu picks them up, we’ll have some alone time.” I peered at him through my dark eyelashes, already imagining him inside of me.

He grabbed my chin, digging his fingers into my jaw as he ravaged my mouth with a desperate hunger. His lips crushed against mine with a ferocity that made my head spin and my breath catch in my throat. The bruising pressure only heightened the intensity of our kiss, but I didn’t care. All I wanted was for him to return to me and never let go.

I stood at the edge of the porch and waved goodbye as Lulu drove away with the twins. When Sebastian had first mentioned a nanny, I’d objected. I wanted to raise our babies. As the months passed, we were so exhausted and couldn’t spend any time together, so I gave in. She only worked a limited number of hours and didn’t live with us, so it felt like a good decision. Plus, it helped when Death appeared.

I closed the front door and raced up the stairs, my pulse pounding so loudly I could barely hear my footsteps. Anticipation fueled me as I entered the bedroom, eager for Death’s return. But my enthusiasm died in my throat when I saw Death perched on the edge of the bed. He turned his hollow gaze toward me, the darkness in his eyes swallowing any trace of light in the room. I froze in place, the air thick with a chill that seeped into my bones.

My bedspread was littered with newspaper articles, the sight of each one halting the beat of my heart, and a sharp gasp escaped me.

“What are you doing?” My voice quivered with fear and astonishment. “How did you find that?” I pointed to the papers strewn across the mattress.

Fury rippled off him in waves as he swept away the contents, and I watched it all flutter to the floor as he stood to his full six-foot-two frame. His gaze narrowed as he shot off the bed and stormed closer before I could blink. Pushing me against the wall, Death wrapped his large hand around my wrist and dug his fingers into my skin.

Death’s lips brushed my ear, and then he dragged them down the side of my neck. “You know better, little lamb.” He fisted my hair and jerked my head back. “You thought you were keeping it a secret from me, didn’t you?”

My blood froze in my veins. “I don’t keep secrets from you.” The tremble in my voice betrayed me. How had he found the file? I’d taken painstaking measures to conceal any evidence from Sebastian and Death.

“The manila envelope hidden in the floor beneath the rug. The pictures, the articles, the news clippings,” he growled. “What part of no did you not understand when you asked if you could look into my past? Several years ago, when Kip and Dope wanted to dig into who killed my parents, I told them the same thing. It’s risky and could lead to me. If they get to me, they get to you, so what makes you think you can fucking go behind my back?”

My heart felt like it was being crushed under the weight of my fear and desire, each beat hammering against my chest. The air around us crackled with tension as Death spoke. The truth was, I couldn’t stop myself from digging. Death wasn’t just my lover or the father of my children. He was a force beyond human comprehension, and that terrified me as much as it fascinated me.

Every time he appeared and disappeared, every mysterious moment where his eyes held secrets, I felt a gnawing uncertainty. Who was he really? What darkness lived inside him that could so seamlessly transition between gentle father and ruthless killer?

My past working with dangerous men had taught me one crucial lesson: knowledge was survival. And survival meant understanding every potential threat, even if that threat slept beside me, held our children, and kissed me with a passion that could consume worlds.

But more than fear, there was something else. A strange mirroring I saw between myself and Death. We both carried darkness. We both understood violence not as a horror, but as a language. My killing of John wasn’t just self-defense. It was a calculated act of survival. And Death? He was survival personified.

I needed to know if either or both of our children would inherit this darkness. If they would understand this unspoken language of power and endurance that ran through our veins.

So I collected newspaper clippings. Old records. Whispers from shadows. Not to expose Death, but to understand him. To protect my family from whatever powerful force he truly represented. If I ever found his parents’ killer, there would also be a need for vengeance and answers.

“You betrayed me, Ella. And now you will face the consequences.”

Fear clawed at my insides as I realized the gravity of my reckless actions and the severity of his intentions.