Page 53 of Fractured Devotion (Tainted Souls #1)

Morning arrives, but I never went to bed. I sit in the dim light of my apartment, wrapped in the remnants of the night’s tension, the Heretic Loop’s code finalized and ready.

Alec stands by the window, watching the horizon blur with early light. His jacket is slung over his arm, his hair slightly tousled from restless hours.

“I need to head home,” he says, his voice thick from exhaustion. “Change out of this before anyone starts asking questions. I’ll meet you back at the clinic.”

I nod, my chest tight with everything we aren’t saying.

He lingers at the door, his gaze steady but reluctant. “Be careful,” he murmurs.

“Always,” I lie.

Once he’s gone, I don’t wait.

I gather the drive, slide it into my coat pocket, and step out.

The walk to the clinic is brisk, the streets soundless in that fragile hush before the day begins. My body feels mechanical, every step driven by purpose more than will.

Inside the clinic, no one pays me much attention. I slip through the corridors with my eyes down until I reach my office.

I lock the door and pull the blinds.

Then I sit, my hands steady as I connect the drive.

The code flickers to life, its instructions clear.

I upload it into the clinic’s central system, embedding it beneath layers of legitimate operations.

Thirty-two hours.

That’s how long it will take before the Loop activates.

Enough time to get far away.

Enough time to erase every last trace of this place.

As the countdown initializes, I watch it tick down, a silent metronome marking the end.

I don’t flinch.

I barely have time to lean back before there’s a knock.

I hesitate, remembering I locked the door earlier. My heart skips once, tight.

Then his voice slides through the door, smooth as silk. “Open it, Celeste.”

I get up, unlock the door, and let it swing open.

And there he is.

Kade.

His presence fills the room before he even speaks, that familiar blend of danger and allure wrapped in his quiet confidence.

“Morning,” he drawls, shutting the door behind him like he owns the air between us.

I keep my expression neutral, tilting my head just slightly. “You’re early.”

He walks closer, his eyes tracing over me with that knowing hunger. “I had a feeling you’d be here,” he says, his voice dripping with seduction. “Working too hard again, Celeste?”

I smile, soft and calculated. “Some habits are hard to break.”

He leans against my desk, too close, his fingers brushing along the edge.

“You look tired,” he murmurs, his voice soft but suggestive.

I let my gaze linger on his mouth for a beat too long. “Maybe I need a distraction,” I reply.

He smirks, sensing the shift. “Meet me after work,” he says, his voice dipping lower. “My place.”

I let the invitation hang in the air before answering, “Alright,” in agreement, my tone laced with promise.

His eyes darken with satisfaction. “Good girl,” he murmurs, and then he’s gone, leaving the door ajar and the tension thick.

The moment he leaves, I glance at the countdown.

Forty-seven hours, fifty-three minutes.

The fuse is already lit.

By midday, Alec returns, changed and composed but no less on edge.

He finds me in Diagnostics, alone but purposeful.

“It’s done?” he asks under his breath.

I nod.

“Thirty-two hours,” I say, my voice even. “Then everything goes dark.”

His jaw tightens. “We need to tell Reyes. He deserves to know.”

Together, we slip away to Reyes’ office, keeping our steps measured.

Inside, I lay it out quickly but clearly.

“The system will collapse in two days,” I tell him. “Records, data, every last protocol.”

Reyes pales, but he doesn’t argue.

“I… I need time,” he mutters.

“You have until then,” I say. “After that, no one can save it.”

I watch Reyes for a moment longer, something tugging deep in my chest.

He’s worked here longer than most. I remember him from those early years—always in his corner, gentle and methodical, following orders without question. I used to respect that about him. His calm. His distance.

But maybe that’s the problem.

Maybe he chose not to see. Or maybe he saw everything and decided survival was simpler.

It doesn’t matter now. That gentle compliance has reached its end.

“You should’ve known,” I say softly, almost to myself.

Reyes looks up, startled by the edge in my voice.

But I don’t give him time to answer.

I turn and walk out, leaving him and Alec behind alone in the office that won’t be standing much longer.

Later, I find Mara near Records, sorting inventory.

I pause beside her, my voice low. “Mara,” I say, “I might be away for a while soon. I haven’t told anyone, so please keep this between us.”

She looks up, startled. “Is everything alright, Dr. Varon?”

“It will be,” I assure her with a calm I don’t feel.

She stares, searching my face, worry flickering behind her eyes.

After a moment, she speaks again, her voice softer, “If you do leave, take care of yourself. We all know how much you’ve had to carry.”

Her words settle heavily between us.

I let myself offer a small, honest smile—a goodbye wrapped in restraint. “Thank you, Mara,” I say softly. “For everything.”

She nods, sensing the weight of it, though she doesn’t fully understand.

I turn and walk away, leaving her in subtle confusion and something that feels like farewell.

The sun sinks low by the time the day winds down.

I gather my things, ignoring the lingering glances from the staff.

Alec appears as I step outside, his expression tight. “You sure about this?” he asks.

I nod, adjusting my coat. “I need to be alone tonight,” I say, my voice final.

He watches me for a long, heavy moment. “Be careful,” he says.

I offer a faint smile, then turn and walk away.

The streets are colder now, but I feel nothing.

I head toward Kade’s apartment, my every step purposeful.

The night swallows me whole.

And I walk willingly into its arms.

By the time I reach Kade’s apartment building, the sky has turned completely black, the air thick with that particular stillness that comes before something irreversible.

I take the stairs instead of the elevator, counting each step like a prayer.

When I reach his floor, I pause outside his door, my hand hovering just above the wood.

My chest tightens, not with fear, but with certainty.

I knock, slow and steady.

Seconds later, the door opens, and Kade stands there, looking every bit the predator I know him to be—relaxed, amused, and dangerously in control.

“Right on time,” he says, stepping aside to let me in.

I enter without a word, the door clicking shut behind me.

His apartment is dimly lit, the air laced with the scent of something sharp and metallic beneath his cologne.

He watches me cross the room, his gaze trailing me like a physical touch.

“I wasn’t sure if you’d come,” he murmurs.

“I said I would,” I reply, my voice cool, but inside, everything tightens.

He steps closer, closing the distance with a pace meant to make me feel every inch of the closing gap. “And you always keep your word,” he says softly, tilting his head to study me.

“Tonight,” I whisper, meeting his gaze without flinching, “we both get what we want.”

He smiles at that—dark, knowing, and dangerous. “Then let’s not waste time,” he says.

And neither of us does.

The air in his apartment thickens as he closes the space between us completely. I don’t retreat. I tilt my chin up, meeting his gaze with steady defiance.

He raises a hand, his fingers brushing lightly along my jaw, his touch an intentional taunt.

“Still fearless,” he murmurs, his thumb tracing the corner of my mouth. “Still dangerous.”

I let him touch, let him savor it. Let him believe he still has the upper hand.

“You like dangerous things,” I remind him, my voice a soft sting.

He smiles, wicked and dark. “I do. Especially when they come looking for me.”

His hand slides to the back of my neck, pulling me in close. His breath is warm against my lips.

“Why now, Celeste?” he asks, the question sinking deeper than the words themselves.

I know what he wants.

To hear me say it.

To hear me name the hunger that’s been building between us since the moment I first let him close.

But I don’t give him what he wants.

Instead, I reach up, curling my fingers into his hair and pulling his mouth to mine.

The kiss isn’t soft.

It’s rough, fierce, and laced with every dark thread still binding us.

He groans against me, the sound rough, carrying heat and hunger as his arms tighten around my waist.

When we break apart, breathless and tangled, I speak softly against his skin. “Because I’m done pretending.”

His laugh is sharp, almost breathless. “Then show me,” he whispers.

And I do.

I take his hand, guiding him toward the bedroom with deliberate steps.

“We’re using the bed,” I say, my voice calm but threaded with command.

His eyes spark with interest, but he doesn’t resist.

“Planning something, doctor?” he teases, that familiar seductive grin tugging at his mouth.

“Get your toys,” I order softly, and the command lands sharply between us.

He lets out a low chuckle, dark and eager. “You’re full of surprises tonight.”

“Now, Kade.”

That edge in my voice leaves no room for argument.

He moves, retrieving a sleek black case from his dresser—polished leather, fastened with metal clasps. I watch as he sets it on the bed, his movements controlled and precise, never breaking eye contact.

“Pick what you need,” I murmur.

He tilts his head slightly, curious but obedient. “Restraints?”

“The strongest ones you have,” I say, stepping closer, my voice steady. “I want you bound. Tight. No escape.”

His pupils darken, hunger blooming in his gaze. “You plan to ruin me tonight.”

“That depends,” I answer, my tone unreadable. “How much are you willing to confess to earn your release?”

A flicker of realization crosses his face. It’s the glimmer of a man who suddenly understands he’s walked into a much deeper game.

“You’re dangerous,” he says in a breathless whisper.

“And you’re about to be at my mercy,” I reply.

I step back, letting him watch as I remove my coat, unhurried.

He opens the case, selecting heavy leather cuffs with thick metal clasps, chains meant to hold even the strongest thrashing.

“On the bed,” I say, pointing. “And strip, remove everything.”

His gaze sharpens, but he obeys, settling onto the mattress, his expression half-defiant, half-reverent.

I take the restraints from his hands, securing his wrists to the headboard and tightening them until I feel the strain in his arms.

Then his ankles… spread wide and locked into place.

He tests the hold, tugging hard.

No give.

“Satisfied?” he asks, his voice rough and strained.

“Not yet,” I answer, leaning down until my lips brush his ear.

“Tonight,” I whisper, “you answer every question I ask. You take every touch I give. And you don’t come until I say so.”

His breath shudders out, caught somewhere between arousal and something darker. “You’re playing with fire,” he rasps.

“Good,” I murmur, trailing my lips down his throat. “Because I intend to burn us both.”

Everything else—the countdown, the clinic, the chaos I’ve set in motion—fades.

Tonight, there’s only this.

Only him.

Only me.

And the storm we’re about to unleash.