Page 6 of Bound By Crimson

Chapter Six

Summer Solstice

The flyer arrived folded into the morning paper.

Delicate florals scrolled around the edges in indigo ink.

Lyric stared at it as the bells above the Velvet Cauldron’s door chimed. Velora walked in carrying a tray of coffees. She took one look at the flyer in Lyric’s hand and grinned.

“Oh, you’re going.”

“I don’t think so.” Lyric set the paper aside. “I used to go every year with my parents. It would feel… weird without them.”

Velora leaned on the counter. “That’s exactly why you should go. You need to start doing things again.”

Lyric hesitated. A flicker of memory surfaced—the man whose eyes had burned into her soul. The stranger from the masquerade ball.

Months had passed since that night, yet his face still haunted her dreams. Some foolish, fragile part of her wondered if he’d be there.

She shook the thought away.

“I’ll try it out,” Lyric said softly. “If it’s awful, I’ll leave. ”

“Perfect.” Velora brightened. “Because I bought you something… I saw this dress and thought it would hug your hips perfectly. I couldn’t resist.”

Lyric sighed, but her lips curved upward. “You really don’t take no for an answer.”

“Never.”

---

The summer solstice arrived with warm air and clear skies. The community center had been transformed, strings of soft lights woven between wooden beams. Flowers were everywhere.

But Lyric felt out of place.

Neighbors greeted her with sad smiles and gentle words. We miss your parents. So glad you came. It’s good to see you out again.

Each kindness tightened the ache in her chest.

She scanned the room. No sign of him. The mysterious man from the masquerade. The stranger whose absence had haunted her.

Her eyes caught instead on Eric.

And Rowan.

Rowan wasn’t by his side. She stood across the room, chatting with a group of mutual friends.

Eric, however, was staring at Lyric. His gaze pinned her where she stood.

Before she could look away, he was moving toward her.

“Lyric.” His voice was low, earnest. “Can we talk?”

She froze.

He was now in front of her.

Tall. Dirty blond hair falling just right, familiar blue eyes watching her with that same intensity she used to crave. His cologne drifted between them—the same scent that had once comforted her. Now, it only made her skin crawl.

“I can’t stop thinking about you.” His words rushed out, desperate. “I never should have let you go. Rowan and I—it was a mistake. You know that, right? We were a mistake. ”

He stepped closer, lowering his voice. “Come on, Lyric. I know you feel it too. You always did.”

His fingers lifted to brush her cheek—an old gesture. One that once would’ve made her heart race.

Now, it made her stomach turn. She recoiled inside, resisting the urge to flinch.

She shifted back, trying to pull away. As she moved, her eyes flicked over his shoulder. She’d wondered where Rowan had gone. Now she spotted her—moving through the crowd, two drinks in her hands, a bright smile fading as she realized what was happening.

Eric didn’t notice. His thumb lingered against Lyric’s skin.

“This can’t be over. Not really. Not for us.”

Her stomach twisted. Not for us? The audacity. The selfishness.

But before she could speak, a low, velvet voice slid through the tension.

“Hey, beautiful. I’ve been looking everywhere for you.”

Lyric barely had time to process the words before he was there.

Not at her side. Not at a polite distance.

He owned the space between them.

Tall. Dark. Dressed in black from neck to boots. His face half-shadowed, overhead lights catching only the wicked curve of his mouth.

Lyric couldn’t move. Couldn’t breathe. The entire room melted away.

He reached for her, fingers curling into the fabric at her waist. Without a word, without hesitation, he pulled her against him.

The kiss was raw. Hungry. Claiming.

His mouth was firm, demanding, devouring—like he’d been starving for her.

She heard Rowan’s sharp intake of breath. Felt Eric’s glare burning into the side of her face.

She didn’t care.

Lyric melted into him, fists clutching at his jacket, drinking in everything he gave without shame .

When he finally—reluctantly—broke the kiss, he grinned against her mouth. Wicked. Wild.

He grabbed her hand and tugged. “Come.”

As they moved, she glanced back once.

Eric stood frozen, fury and disbelief etched into his face. Rowan, a few steps behind him, stared between them, sadness flooding her wide eyes as realization slowly settled in.

Lyric turned away, still dazed and trembling, following the man who had just unraveled her world into the cool embrace of the night.

---

A black car idled at the curb.

The same car that had pulled up outside the Velvet Cauldron.

The same driver. The one who had delivered the gilded masquerade invitation months ago.

But Lyric barely registered the vehicle.

He stopped beneath the streetlamp, turning her to face him.

For the first time, she truly saw him.

Tall. Broad-shouldered. Built with the kind of effortless strength that spoke of danger and devotion all at once.

Dark hair, tousled like he’d been running his hands through it in frustration.

A sharp jaw, dark stubble. And a mouth curved in something that wasn’t quite a smile—something darker.

And his eyes.

God. His eyes.

Molten gold trapped in smoke. Smoldering beneath thick lashes. So intense they pinned her in place. The same unusual shade as her own. She’d never met anyone else with eyes like that.

They didn’t just see her. They possessed her.

He was beautiful. Brutal. A sin carved in flesh.

And he looked at her like she was the only thing left in the world that mattered .

He had to be at least ten years older than her—and somehow, that only made him more irresistible.

There was something intoxicating about older men. The way they didn’t hesitate. The way they walked into a room like they already owned it.

However, it wasn’t just his age. It was the authority in his voice, the way he moved like the world bent for him. And maybe, just maybe, she wanted to be the next thing that did.

For a breathless moment, neither of them moved. The night hung between them, trembling.

Finally, he stepped forward. Slow. Deliberate. Predator and prey all at once.

“I wasn’t supposed to come,” he said, voice low and raw—like a rasp of silk over bare skin. “But I couldn’t stay away.”

Each word slipped into her bloodstream, making her pulse stutter.

“Why?” she whispered.

Instead of answering, he opened the car door and guided her inside with a rough tenderness that made her heart crack.

Inside, the scent of his cologne filled the space—masculine, intoxicating. Spiced amber and warm woods, familiar and addictive.

He slid in beside her. For a moment, he just watched her, eyes devouring every inch.

“I had to claim you,” he said. “I couldn’t let him touch you. I couldn’t stand the way he looked at you.”

Her breath hitched.

The car began to move. She wasn’t paying attention to where they were headed. Her pulse drowned out everything but the weight of his gaze.

“Where have you been?” she whispered. “I haven’t seen you around.”

His mouth curved into that same dark, knowing grin. “New York. That’s where I live.”

He gave no further explanation. No space for more questions.

She swallowed, breathless.

“I don’t even know your name.”

A grin—wicked, knowing—touched the corner of his mouth .

“No. I suppose you wouldn’t.” His voice dropped. “But isn’t that part of the intrigue?”

When the car slowed and stopped, she blinked in surprise. Her house. Somehow, he’d brought her home.

Confused, she looked at him. She didn’t want to leave. She didn’t want this night to end. She wanted to be in his arms again, to feel that heat, that safety. And more than anything she wanted to know everything about him.

He read the desire in her eyes before she could speak.

“If I don’t let you go now… I never will,” he said. His voice was strained. “It’s getting hard to control myself.”

He hesitated, fingers tracing along her jaw, then whispered, “I’m afraid I’ll ruin you.”

The words sent a shiver down her spine.

Her thought escaped before she could stop it. “What if I want you to?”

It was barely more than a breath, but he heard it.

His eyes darkened. He groaned—a sound low and dangerous—and surged forward, crushing his mouth against hers.

This kiss was different. Fierce. Desperate. A release of everything he’d been holding back.

His hands gripped her hips, pulling her against him until there was no space left between them.

When he finally forced himself to stop, his chest was heaving.

“You have no idea what you’re inviting, Lyric.” His thumb brushed her bottom lip. “If I don’t let you go now…”

He opened the door and stepped out, circling to her side. His touch lingered as he helped her out.

“Go,” he whispered, voice thick with restraint.

She turned, heart racing. As she reached the door, she glanced back.

“Kai,” he called softly. “That’s my name.”

His eyes burned into her. Possessive. Hungry. As though memorizing her. Committing her to memory in case he couldn’t stop himself next time.

Then the car pulled away, disappearing into the shadows.