Page 154 of Dance With A Devil

I belong to them. All five.

And I’d rather burn alive with the Devils of Cliffside than breathe another second without them.

So when Wyck looks at me like I might vanish, like he’s bracing for the part where I say I can’t handle it, I smirk and toss his fear right back at him.

“After everything I’ve survived… if you think you’re getting rid of me that easy, think again.”

My voice is calm, but the fire behind it is volcanic. My smile doesn’t quite reach my lips, but it doesn’t have to, not when every word I speak is a blade aimed at the voice in my head still whispering doubts.

Fuck you, buddy. This is my life. And what I want... is them.

Wyck’s expression shifts, something dark and soft cutting through his usual mask. “We would never,couldnever, get rid of you.” He looks around, and one by one, the others nod. Silent. Dead serious.

“All for one… or it’s none of us.”

“Then let’s go inside,” I say, chin tilted, eyes defiant. “Let’s see the place we’re going to destroy and rebuild together.”

“Wait!” Fred’s voice cuts through the stillness. We all turn. She’s standing awkwardly, motioning between herself and Ryan. “I don’t get it. Why arewehere?”

I blink at her, amused. “Girl, you really think I’m walking into the mouth of madness without my crew?” I glance back at the guys, then to her. “Where I go, you go. That includes this.”

They don’t argue. They never do when I’ve already made up my mind.

“Now that we’ve got that cleared up…” I look to Wyck, smirking. “Lead the way, my Devil?”

Wyck just nods, pushing open the massive asylum doors like a king walking back into his ruined kingdom.

“That was so badass,” Fred whispers behind me. “Like, mic drop moment. None of them even blinked.”

I’m about to tease her when something flickers in my periphery, silver glinting under the porch light.

“Wells,” I hiss. “Put the fucking knife away.”

Fred gasps. “Jesus Christ, that wasn’t even directed at you! Chill!”

She presses into my side like I’m a human shield. “Athens,pleasecall off your psychopath.”

“I’llshowyou a fucking guard dog,” Wells mutters before lunging after her with a grin carved in sin.

Fred shrieks. “Shit! I wasjoking, stop!”

They chase each other around the front steps like rabid children raised by wolves, and honestly, it’s the most peace I’ve felt in days.

“You two!” I shout, voice sharp but laced with laughter. “Cut it out and get your asses inside.”

“Coming!” they yell in unison, like goddamn delinquents.

The tour is nothing short of breathtaking in the most unholy way.

Stone halls that echo secrets. Shadows that cling to the corners. Rooms dressed in velvet and dust, like ghosts still dance here in their finest sins.

This place wasn’t justremodeled, it was reborn.

We explored the entire damned asylum, from the blood-red study to the underground war room. Every inch of it felt like it belonged to us. Like it had been waiting.

By the time we hit the lounge, someone throws on Netflix, some dark thriller, something about monsters in plain sight.

But I don’t make it five minutes in.