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"I was trying to get answers first," I grit out. "I didn’t want to blow smoke without proof. I didn’t want to make it worse. We didn’t even know about your room at that point."

"No," she hisses. "You didn’t want to admit it might be one of your precious Ice Lords."

I don't say anything because she’s not wrong.

Her chest rises and falls like she can’t get enough air. "You let me think I was crazy. You let me think I was losing it. "

"I didn’t know who to trust," I grind out. "I still don’t."

I stand up and take a step toward her without thinking. "Avery?—"

"Don’t," she spits. "Don’t touch me. Don’t lie to me. And don’t stand there acting like you’re any different than whoever was in that fucking mask."

I should back off and let her have space. But something about her defiance, even now, makes my blood burn with fury all over again.

"You think I liked keeping this from you?" I say low, snaring her wrist in my hand. "You think I like seeing you fall apart?"

For a second, we just stand there breathing hard, body to body, our breaths fogging the air between us.

Her pulse thrums under my grip, and my fingers tighten when she tries to pull away.

She stares up at me, anger and pain flickering in her eyes. "You just want to control me. You and Aidric both."

Her breath saws in and out, but her eyes burn. Without thinking or caring, I pull her in and crush my mouth to hers.

She gasps, fisting my jacket as her anger, hatred, and pain spill into my mouth. She pushes me away, then pulls me right back in.

This kiss is brutal and messy, our teeth clash, tongues tangling as if they're at war with one another. She tastes like earth and something sweet and fuck if it doesn’t undo me.

Her hands drag down my back as I shove her against the nearest tree, pinning her there.

She moans, a broken sound she tries to swallow down but I hear it and I feel it.

I break away, panting. "You hate me," I rasp.

Her eyes flash. "More than anything."

I slam my mouth to hers again, this time harder and deeper.

Her body arches into mine, and she bites my bottom lip in defiance so I return the favor. She gasps as the taste of copper seeps onto our tongues.

"That all you’ve got?" she breathes, voice wrecked.

I grin darkly. "You want more?" I grind against her, my hard cock pressing against her stomach, mouth dragging down her neck, tasting sweat and sin and everything we’ve both tried to bury.

Then, in a swift motion, I scoop my arm under her ass and lift. Her legs wrap around my waist, her spine crushing against the tree.

She clings to me, her breath catching, nails digging into my shoulders through the fabric of my shirt.

"You gonna beg for it?" I whisper, my voice rough with need. "Or do I have to drag it out of you?"

Her answer is a defiant roll of her hips and a moan that slips past her lips, taunting me.

One hand slides down between us, my fingers slipping under the waistband of her leggings. She’s hot and soaked, and I press two fingers into her like I’ve got something to prove.

She gasps, head tipping back as her thighs clench around me.

"God, Sebastian."

"Say my name again," I growl, curling my fingers just enough to make her cry out. "Say it like you mean it."

"Sebastian," she whimpers.

"Louder," I demand, dragging my mouth along her jaw. "Let the fucking trees hear it."

She moans again, voice shattered and trembling. "Sebastian!"

That sound wrecks me.

I pump my fingers harder, deeper, grinding the ball of my palm against her clit. She shudders, head snapping forward as she buries her face in my shoulders, biting down on the fabric to muffle the screams tearing out of her throat.

"You sure are wet for someone you hate so much," I murmur against her skin. "What does that make you, Little Lamb?"

She trembles, lips parted like she wants to spit something back but all that escapes is a broken sob as her body locks up.

"Say it," I demand. "Say what it makes you."

"A whore," she whimpers. "It makes me a whore."

"Damn straight it does. My little lamb is a dirty little whore."

My words nail into her, right along with my fingers, and she seems to get off on them because she rides my palm harder, grinding deep as if I can dig out the side of her begging to be set free.

Her tight cunt clenches around my fingers. Her hips buck, breath ragged, fingers tangled in my hair. Every little sound only pulls me further under her spell.

I wanna bend her over right now, shove those leggings down, and bury myself so deep she forgets anyone else has ever touched her. I want her begging me to stop while also begging me not to.

But I don’t move yet because I need to feel her fall apart and break in my hand first.

Her walls clench tighter and she cries out as she soaks my fingers.

Her ragged breaths slow and I press my forehead to hers, slick with sweat. "You still hate me?" I murmur.

She nods slowly, dazed. "So much."

"Good." I drop her down like she's nothing. "Hate me harder because I hate you more."

I plan to ruin my little lamb for anyone else, even the one she wants…Callan.

My best fucking friend.

Fuck. What did I just do?

How did I momentarily forget about him? Like he doesn't even exist and he's not lying in a hospital bed with memory loss.

A pang of guilt hits me right in the chest. My need for control, and lack thereof, took the lead and I royally fucked up.

Suddenly, a sharp crack comes from the woods and we both freeze.

Avery pants, eyes dazed as she adjusts her pants that are now drenched in proof of her arousal. "What the hell was that?"

"I think someone's out there," I whisper, pulling her body close to mine. I wrap my arm around her waist, holding her firmly. "We need to get outta here."

But before I can move, she shoves past me.

"Avery!" I whisper growl.

She storms toward the tree line, hands clenched into fists. "Come on out!" she screams into the dark. "You want to stalk me and threaten me, then come out and fucking face me. Be a man, if that's even what you are. I think you're just a fucking coward."

She spins in a slow circle, chest heaving. "I’m not scared of you! You hear me? I’m not fucking scared of you!"

But her hands are trembling, voice fraying at the edges.

I grab her arm and pull her back. "That's enough."

"No!" she shouts, trying to break free. "I’m done hiding. Whoever the fuck they are, they don’t get to win!"

"Not like this." I tighten my grip. "You’re playing right into their hands. You don’t have a weapon; neither of us do. What do we do if they come at us with a knife, or worse, a gun."

She fights me for another beat then crumples against my chest, breath shaking. "I hate this. I hate not knowing who it is. I hate not knowing who I can trust."

I rest my chin lightly against her hair. "They'll be back," I tell her. "And next time, we'll be prepared."

She nods, the movement bringing me a little comfort after the way she just stormed out here and screamed that she was ready to lay her life on the line for the truth. And that’s the thing, right then I realized I don’t want her to die for our secrets. I want to keep her as mine.

Shaking off the insane thought, I lead her by my side and I don’t let go of her until we're at her car. "I'm driving," I tell her. "You're too worked up right now."

She doesn’t fight me, just slips into the passenger seat and lets me close the door.

I watch as she folds her knees to her chest, defeat and worry settling into her bones.

How she can go from someone scared to a fighter in seconds baffles me.

I think it’s one of the reasons I can't bring myself to look away from her.

I never know what Avery is going to do next, and that equal parts thrills me and terrifies me.