Page 71 of The Cruelest Chaos

Last night, Ella and I connected. And nearly a month after I met her, my heart is already aching at the thought of ending this with her.

Fuck.

Ria’s light is on, the one beside her nightstand, and it surprises me.

According to her clock, it’s just six in the morning.

I resume my usual spot, leaning against the support beam in the middle of the room, arms folded. I have no idea what I look like; I’ve got on grey sweats, a clean white tee I changed into thatdoesn’thave blood on it. I can’t have Ria asking questions about my back, either.

But I guess something about my appearance is unusual because Ria narrows her golden eyes on me, cocking her head, her legs crossed, swinging off the bed. “You look…” she trails off, and I tense, waiting for her to tell me just what she sees.

She doesn’t say anything. Her eyes travel the length of my body, focusing on my hair. Self-consciously, I run a hand through it.

“Spit it out.”

She smiles. “Like you’re happy. Like you…got laid last night,” she says quietly, keeping the smile on her face. But her tone tells a different story.

She’s wearing a red and white striped pajama shirt that looks beautiful against her brown skin. Her brown hair is pulled up in a loose bun on her head, and her legs are bare, red cotton shorts hitting at her upper thighs.

I feel my morning wood straining against my sweats, but I refuse to uncross my arms and adjust myself. I don’t want to draw attention to it. And for the first time in my entire fucking life, I think about how this hardon isn’t just for anyone. I won’t just fuck any girl that comes my way.

This is for Ella.And I’m fucking delusional.Goddammit.

“Yeah?” I ask Ria, not answering her unasked question.

Her hands grip the side of the bed tighter, palms flat against it, fingers curled over the edge. She looks down at her lap. “Yeah.”

“And if I did?” I press. I know I should let it go. Make a joke. Just move on. Tell her about Noctem, about what’s to come. Beg for her to tell me what to do.

She looks up, meets my gaze. “I’d say lucky you.”

The corners of my mouth lift into a smile that I try my best to fight because Iamhappy. Because thinking of Elladoesmake me feel lucky.

But Ria doesn’t look so happy about the idea of me fucking someone else. Then again, she’s also not screaming at me, so that’s good, I guess.

“Did you?” she asks, before I can think of what to say.

I rotate my neck, glancing at the exposed beams of the ceiling. Then I blow out a breath. “It doesn’t matter.”

She forces out a too-loud laugh. “Then why can’t you answer the question, Maverick?”

For a second, I think about Ella in the woods. I think about my hand against her face, I think about the rush of power, of control. The release of wanting to fuck someone up. Hurt someone that wasn’t myself. I think about how good she felt around my dick. How good it felt to take something from her.

I think about last night. In my kitchen. On the floor. Her arms around me. She didn’t pry about my brother when I asked her not to. Didn’t look at me like I was a monster. She didn’t hate me.

I blink, forcing myself back into this room, with this problem.One thing at a time, Mav.“No, Ria,” I make myself say. “Last night, I did not get laid.” I can’t stop the bitter tone of my voice, because whatever Ella and I did last night…it was the opposite of getting fucked. Or maybe it was the same, baring our souls to each other. Just for one night. It would’ve been better if Ihadjust gotten laid, but I don’t say that.

Still, Ria just keeps staring at me. “What about the night before?”

I feel my gut clench, and immediately after it, a surge of anger. I told her I’d marry her to get her out of trouble. Told her I’d damn my entire life for her to survive. But I never offered her love. And I damn sure never offered her loyalty; I’ve never offered anyone that.

“Yes, Ria.” I cock my head. “Is that a fucking problem?”

She stands to her feet, hugs her arms around herself as she glares at me, as if she’s giving herself courage. I wince, waiting for her to scream at me.

“And you think that if we got married, if we…if we did whatever it is your cult does, that would be our life? Me, here in the basement, while you fuck whoever you—”

“You wouldn’t be down here,” I try to interrupt, but she keeps going.