Page 2 of The Black Lotus (Fatal Florals Duet #2)

It’s funny, how the one person who meant to kill me is the one who showed me I am just like him.

I was upset when Aster told me the truth, showing me who he really is.

But I didn’t have much time to process it before the truth of who I really am was revealed to me.

The memories of what I did consumed me entirely.

I accepted it. Embraced it. Reveled in it.

That’s what makes moving on easy. There was a monster dormant inside me for so long, being set free wasn’t difficult.

It was welcomed. Wanted. A part of me finally became whole, the darkness lurking beneath the surface fully exposed to the harsh light of reality.

Now my beast is awake, and it’ll never be put back to sleep.

I don’t want it to.

For so long I have been fascinated by serial killers. Their methods. Their kills. Their desires. What are the odds I fall in love with my favorite killer?

“Do you want your surprise or not, little vixen?” Aster asks, stopping to look back at me.

I give him a sheepish smile, bringing my hand to my lips, zipping my mouth shut, pretending to lock it and then place the imaginary key in Aster's back pocket, smacking his ass for emphasis.

He shakes his head and smirks, continuing down the path.

“Close your eyes,” Aster demands as his steps slow.

Instead of listening, I lift my head and peek at what he wants to shield me from seeing. I yelp, as his grip loosens, my body plummeting to the ground. My eyes slam shut, and just as my head is about to slam into the grass, his arms tighten around my ankles, stopping my fall.

“Now, are you going to be a good girl and listen to your fox, or am I going to have to let your face meet the earth?”

I shake my head, my eyes pinched shut. “I’m a good vixen; my eyes are closed. I promise!”

“I’m going to place you on the ground, so put your hands out in front of you, and don’t look, or so help me Serena, I will burn your surprise to the ground.”

Extending my arms in front of me, I collapse into an inelegant heap, feeling the dirt beneath my fingers. I crawl towards where I think the shed is, feeling Aster's hands wrap around my arms, helping me up.

“Can I trust you to keep your eyes closed, or do I have to cover them for you?”

I turn towards his voice, biting my lips at his threat. “I promise, as your little vixen, I will try to behave.”

He hums his approval, grabbing my hands and guiding me to where my gift awaits.

We stop. I hear keys jingle and a door creaking open.

It doesn’t sound like Aster’s kill space.

It’s a quieter, groaning sound. Almost sensual in how it caresses my ears, my core liquifies.

The urge to peek is strong, and as much as I love watching flames shine bright and flicker, I don’t want my present to be engulfed by them.

So, like the good girl I’m not, I keep myself in the dark.

Aster’s hands grab my waist, preventing me from moving forward. His breath fans my neck, as he whispers in my ear, “On the count of three…”

“One.”

The excitement from anticipation of what awaits starts in my stomach, wings flapping wildly around.

“Two.”

The urge to peek is getting stronger with each shadow of a number leaving his lips.

“Three.” His hands release my waist, and my eyes spring open, my fingers cover my mouth, as tears threaten to fall.

I turn towards him, unable to form the words I desperately wish to say. He just smiles, answering my unspoken question with a dip of his head.

The room we are standing in is covered head to toe with shelves upon shelves of bookcases full of books, mostly dark romance.

There is a giant chaise in the corner of the room with a big fluffy blanket.

My feet must be ahead of my brain because before I can register what is happening, my ass is planted in the seat, and I swear it is the comfiest place my ass has ever been.

My body melds into the cushion, and if there wasn’t so much to look at, I would be getting under that blanket, ready to drift to sleep.

“What do you think?” Aster asks, crossing his arms over his chest, leaning on the doorframe watching me with an amused look.

I pull the blanket up and nuzzle my face into it. “When did you have the time to do this?”

He pushes off the wall and sits on the arm of the sofa. “I finally had a reason to spend the money I’ve made from Graves, and what’s the point of being rich if I can’t spend it on the woman I love?”

“You could have put the money back into Graves.”

“Graves can survive even if I built you ten more of these.” My eyes widen at his confession.

“While that sounds like a dream, I really hope you don’t spend that much money on me, ever.”

“Serena.” He sits down by my legs. “I would give you my last dollar if it meant I could see your eyes light up the way they did when you saw your personal library.”

I grab his hand and squeeze it, tears threatening to fall, “How did you get this done without me seeing? Or hearing for that matter.”

“You were too busy screaming when the crew was working.” My mouth falls open.

“That’s why you were keeping me so satisfied so often?”

He quirks an eyebrow. “You think the only reason I fucked you until we were both raw was because I wanted to distract you?”

I shrug. “You kind of just said that.”

“Serena, I fuck you because that is what I want to do. Not as some distraction, you are far from that. You are the one person who consumes me completely. Do you know how hard I have to fight the urge to destroy you when we’re training?

” He lifts my chin, heated eyes meeting my own.

“It kills me every time we are near one another and I’m not inside you.

But your safety is my number one priority even over fucking you.

That’s where your final surprise comes in.

” He extends his hand out silently asking for mine.

Eyeing him suspiciously, I take his hand. If there is anything I’ve learned, it is that there is always more than meets the eye with Aster.

“Do I have to close my eyes for this?” I ask, dragging myself from my new favorite place.

He shakes his head and walks me over to a shelf I hadn’t noticed, filled with my Stephen King books and other horror novels I haven’t had the pleasure of reading.

I may be a girl who loves her dark and twisted romances, but I was a lover of horror way before that.

Stephen King was my introduction into adult novels.

In the middle there is a huge rebound version of Stephen King's It . It’s black with red foiling on the side and the words ‘You’ll Float Too’, under the title name.

I reach for the book, entranced by the red letters, desperate to trace my fingers over them.

Pulling the book from the top, I try to ease it off the shelf to get a better look, but it stops halfway.

Then I hear a little click.

Whirling to look at Aster, hand still on the book that won’t budge, I tilt my head. He smiles, a smugness curving his lips “What’s your favorite horror novel besides It ?”

Glancing back at the shelf, I find Salem’s Lot . This one isn’t bound, but it is a hardcover copy. With It still hanging halfway off the shelf, I pull the spine, frustrated this one also does not come off, but another whisper of a click sounds.

How did he know that was another one of my favorites?

Frustrated, I stick my bottom lip out in a pout. Aster brushes the delicate flesh with his finger. “One more to go, then that frown will be turned upside down.”

I turn back to scan the shelf for my third favorite novel written by King, but try as I might, I can’t locate it. “It’s not here,” I grumble, running my finger along each book to make sure I didn’t miss it.

“It’s there.”

“It isn’t . Also how do you know which books of his are my favorite? I never told you.” I murmur, my pursuit to find the book never stopping.

His arms wrap around my waist, head resting on my shoulder. “If I told you, then I’d have to kill you,” he teases.

“Ha, ha; very funny. We both know you had your chance and chose to keep me instead.” I turn my head, our breaths mingling with one another.

He looks at my lips and whispers, “You’re right. And not killing you was the best decision I’ve ever made.” I look down at his lips, a moment away from planting mine on his, when I feel him reach over my head and hear a door open.

I whip my head back and see the third book, Misery hanging halfway off the shelf. I swear that wasn’t there before. The bookshelf swings open, and Aster reaches above my head to pull the door on silent hinges. My breath catches. Laying behind is a surprise even better than my own personal library.