Page 5

A loud cheer goes up as Kael hoists a bottle of whiskey into the air, the amber liquid sloshing dangerously near the top. He pours a generous amount into a row of plastic cups, sliding one across the table to me. I hesitate, fingers hovering over the rim, but Mera nudges me with her elbow. She offers me a grin, wild and carefree, and I wish for a moment I could be more like her.

Hell, maybe I can. She has been through hell and come out the other side, maybe I can, too.

"Go on, you’ll like it," she urges with a grin, already taking a swig of her own drink. "It burns like a bitch, but it’s sooo good."

I look down at the glass, feeling my cheeks flush as the weight of unfamiliarity presses down on me. Alcohol was strictly forbidden in my world, a line I had never crossed. Hell, I don’t even recall a time anyone drank within those walls—not even wine. Which is surprising, really, considering that it's meant to be part of it all. Right?

Maybe I just never paid attention.

Now, though, I am being given a chance to do whatever I like.

Do I dare?

I glance nervously, torn between the temptation of rebellion and the comfort of my familiar boundaries. Something inside me teeters on the edge, a part of me desperate to let it all go, while the other clings to the safety of what I've always known.

I’m tired of living life by everyone else’s rules. But is it worth breaking them for this? Who said I can’t try something new, something a little dangerous? Yet, the fear of the unknown lingers, holding me back even as I reach for the glass.

Fuck them.

I’m done living for rules that aren’t even mine.

I carefully lift the cup, feeling the cool plastic against my fingers, and bring it slowly to my lips. The first taste catches me off guard, causing a sudden cough that disrupts the silence. Laughter bursts from the group around me. My cheeks flush with embarrassment, but I muster the courage to try again.

Surely it gets better, right?

That has to be why everyone loves it so much.

The liquid burns as it travels down my throat, leaving a trail of heat, but there's an unexpected comfort in its warmth. The flavor is unlike anything I've ever experienced, a complex blend of something a little bitter, warm and intense.

“Atta girl,” Zane calls from across the fire, a smirk twisting his lips. “Knew you had it in you.”

The flames crackle, and my eyes settle on them. I’ve always found a strange comfort in fire, except for the one that blazed out the front only a night ago. That’s the kind of fire I never want to see again in my life. Guilt still grips my chest, knowing how close these men came to the kind of danger I’m still not sure they understand.

Knox pulls out a joint, his face stern as he brings it to his lips, lighting it and taking a deep drag, leaning back in his chair. I try to keep my expression relaxed, but this is all so strangely foreign to me. I’m not used to them, or their world. They’re so different from what I know, and yet I find a strange sense of comfort in it.

“You thinkin’ of running off again?” Kael teases, arching a brow. “Or you gonna stick around and see how this plays out?”

“Depends,” I say, a small smile tugging at my lips. “You got more of this stuff?”

He chuckles, and it’s a sound I’m not used to. Light. Warm. It makes the tightness in my chest ease, just a little. I can’t help but like these guys, they’re scary and broody, yet funny and warm at the same time. I didn’t know those two things could mix, but here they are, proof of it.

“Plenty more,” Zane says, tipping his chair back on two legs. “Stick with us, you’ll be swimmin’ in it.”

“Or drownin’,” Knox mutters, passing the joint to Talon.

My eyes move to Talon, who is staring at the fire, his expression unreadable. My breath hitches at the sheer beauty that lies on this man’s face. The flames cast shadows across his features, making his eyes stand out. They’re already spectacular, but beneath the firelight, they’re breathtaking.

As if sensing I’m watching him, his eyes shift and lock onto mine, and I feel that familiar pull. I know he’s not over what happened last night. I can feel the tension in the way he holds himself, in the way he watches me. He has barely spoken a word.

I offer him a smile, hoping to break some of this uncomfortable silence. Surprising me, he stands and moves to sit beside me.

Close.

Too close.

My breath hitches.

The air shifts subtly, carrying with it a distinct aroma that envelops me completely. It's a blend of beer and a hint of musk mixed with leather, uniquely him. God, the way I want this man terrifies me. It terrifies me because I’m afraid it will mean I get hurt.

Really fucking hurt.

“Hey,” I say softly, unsure of what else to do.

“Hey,” he replies, short and sharp, but there’s no bite to it.

Kael passes the joint to Talon, who takes it, tipping his head slightly as he brings it to his lips, inhaling deep. My skin prickles as I watch him, completely taken, forgetting the world around me.

“Can I try some?” I ask, nodding to the joint in his hand.

His eyes flash. “You ever smoked before?”

I bite my lip. “No, but I want to...”

“Gonna be a night of firsts for you, then.”

I swallow, my throat suddenly dry.

Talon shifts, turning to face me, and the world feels like it narrows down to just us. His eyes pin mine. Deep. Intense. My heart stutters as he lifts the joint to his lips, taking a slow drag, the tip flaring orange in the dark. He doesn’t break eye contact. Not even for a second.

“Breathe in,” he murmurs, and his hand curls around the back of my neck, pulling me closer. My skin prickles where he touches me, and I have to remind myself how to breathe as his lips near.

My lips part.

He exhales.

The smoke is warm and heady as it fills my lungs, and I gasp, a low moan catching in my throat. My head spins, but not from the joint, not from the way it hits my system and sends a rush through my body—it’s him. It’s Talon, and the way he makes me feel like I’m burning alive, like I’m coming apart at the seams.

Fuck, I think I’m falling for him.

This is bad. Really bad.

Falling for a man like Talon could destroy me, but I feel unable to stop it.

He pulls away, just enough for me to breathe, my eyes still locked on his. “Feels good, yeah?”

I nod, unable to speak, my heart thundering. I’m filled with a thousand different things, and they all feel so damned good. If I could stay right here, never moving, I think I’d spend the rest of my life happy.

“Walk with me.”

It’s not a question, but a demand.

I nod again, my voice still lost somewhere between my lungs and my lips. Talon stands, extending a hand. I take it, hesitating only slightly, and let him pull me to my feet. The world sways, and I giggle, a sound so foreign it feels like it belongs to someone else.

The others watch us go, and I see a smirk on Mera’s face as we head into the shadows, away from the firelight.

Talon doesn’t say anything as we walk, and yet, he hasn’t released me. His hand is still firmly curled around mine. I stumble a little, and his hand tightens, keeping me from biting the dirt. The joint is going to my head now, and mixed with the alcohol the sensation is somewhat exhilarating.

It feels good.

Freeing.

It is a terrifying realization that this is exactly the reason people become addicted.

“That really your first time?” he asks, glancing sideways. “Gettin’ high?”

“Yeah,” I admit, my cheeks burning. “My, ah, family isn’t exactly the fun type.”

“Figured. Glad we could give you that,” he says, and there’s a warmth in his voice that makes my heart skip.

We walk in silence for a while, the cool night air wrapping around us. It feels good against my skin, calming the heat that’s still burning in my chest. I breathe in deeply, trying to steady my racing heart.

“What about the man?” Talon asks, his tone shifting.

“Who?” I say, even though I know exactly who he means.

“The fucker in the car. You said he was from the cult.”

I swallow, I hate Cyrus almost as much as my father. Almost. “His name is Cyrus. My father chose him for me. He thinks we’re going to have some chosen child that will lead them all to eternity or whatever the fuck it is they believe.”

Talon stiffens beside me, his grip on my hand tightens. “They force you to be with someone against your will?”

I swallow. “Yeah. I guess they do.”

Something in him shifts, and he releases my hand, running it through his hair. “When I get my hands on those fuckers, I’m going to make them wish they were never born.”

My eyes widen.

“He fuckin’ touch you?” The question is sharp, his voice low.

I look away, shame rising in my cheeks. Of course he has touched me, I didn’t get a choice. I have never truly thought about how wrong that is, but now I’m thinking about how it might sound to him, it makes me want to recoil away from him in shame. Of course I didn’t like doing it, but at the time, I thought it was just how it was.

I know that it isn’t normal, but I also know that I didn’t have a choice.

“I’ll fuckin’ kill him,” Talon growls.

I pause, words caught in my throat, shocked by how protective he is. It warms a part of me I hadn't even realized was cold, a part that had never known the comfort of someone else's concern. The sensation is overwhelming, and I can’t come up with anything to say.

I just stand there. Wordless.

“When we come for them, I promise you this, we will make them beg for their freedom, for our mercy.”

He means it. Every word. But there’s a dark edge to his voice, a danger that makes my skin prickle.

I suck in a breath, letting it out slowly.

“I don’t want you to get hurt because of me,” I say.

His eyes lock onto mine. “Don’t worry about me. Worry about them.”

I’m starting to think maybe it’s them who doesn’t know what’s coming.

BEING ALONE WITH TALON is exhilarating in a way that defies explanation. His presence makes me feel this strange kind of warmth and comfort, yet at the same time ignites a fierce flame within me that terrifies every fiber of my being. His power to unravel me is daunting, and I am terrified of what my feelings in this situation might do.

I want him, and I’m tired of trying to hide it.

We come across an old fallen tree, and he sits down, boots kicked out, arms crossed, eyes fixed on the stars in the clear night sky. I remain standing, my breath caught in my throat as I wrestle with the thought of making a move. Can I muster the courage? Mera urged me to just go for it, yet my instincts scream against being so bold.

Fuck my instincts anyway, where have they gotten me?

"You gonna sit?"

I glance at him and bite my lower lip, catching his eyes following the movement, sparking something in his expression. I pause for a moment before settling beside him, our shoulders lightly touching. The night air is chilly, but his warmth radiates into me. My heart pounds like a wild, untamed creature within my chest.

God dammit, I don’t know how to do this with him.

"You good?” he murmurs, and I don’t miss the low, throaty tone in his voice.

I look over to him, my eyes searching his face. "Yeah. I’m okay."

Here goes nothing.

I turn towards him, my eyes locking with his, and I know if I don’t do this, I’ll chicken out and never get the chance again. Maybe it’s the joint, or the alcohol, or both, but I need more than just his shoulder brushing against mine. I want to feel him, deep inside me, and know exactly how it is meant to feel to have a man want me.

“I need to kiss you again.”

My voice is breathy, and I see the exact moment my words register, because his expression grows dark and his body stiffens. I don’t let him think about it, because I’m afraid of his reaction. Instead, I move closer, reaching up and letting my hand rest against the stubble on his cheek.

Then I move in and press my lips to his.

He doesn’t hesitate. He pulls me against him, his mouth finding mine with a hunger that catches me off guard. He kisses me with a depth that has my core igniting and my legs clenching together as a weird kind of pleasure shoots up my spine. His hands move around to my back, pulling me closer until I have no choice but to straddle him.

I do so without hesitation.

His hands grip my hips, guiding me as I rock against him, feeling the hard length of his dick pressing against me. My breath catches in my throat, and my body hums with need, pressing closer, wanting more. The world fades, leaving only the intense heat of him beneath me, the sensation of his hands and mouth consuming me.

I gasp, overwhelmed by a tidal wave of pleasure that threatens to drown me in its intensity.

Fuck. He feels good.

I grind against him with an urgent desperation, harder, deeper, my moans tearing through the night as I get closer to feeling something I’ve never felt before in my entire life - pleasure. It's a raw, primal pleasure. His mouth devours mine, and our hands are roaming, almost desperate.

I need him.

Panting, I reach down between us, driven by a desperation to feel him inside me, hard and painful, stretching me as I sink down onto him. My fingers fumble with his jeans, unbuttoning them frantically as his rigid cock brushes against my fingers, ready. The soft skin against my fingers sends a thrill down my spine.

I need him.

Now.

Then, suddenly, he stops.

He pulls back, his breath ragged and a low growl rumbling in his chest. “Fuck,” he mutters, lifting me off him and setting me down beside him. The loss is instant and aching. He stands and runs his fingers through his hair, growling low, his frustration clear.

His arousal equally as clear.

“What?” I ask, hurt lacing my voice. “What’s wrong?”

He turns, his eyes dark, a mix of emotions I can’t read swirling around. “I can’t fuckin’ do this with you, Nia.”

Confusion knots my chest. “Do what?”

“Fuck you,” he says, the words sharp and raw. “Not like this. Not when you’re...”

My heart drops and rage starts to build deep in my chest. “When I’m what?”

His jaw tightens, and he runs a hand through his hair again, frustration etched into every line of his face. “When you’re so fuckin’ fragile. I’m scared of what it’ll do to you.”

Anger flares, hot and bright. “You think I can’t handle it?”

My voice doesn’t come out loud, instead a deep, angry whisper.

“You been through enough. The shit you’ve seen, I’m not addin’ to it by takin’ what you ain’t ready to give.”

His words hit hard, and I feel the sting of them deep in my chest. “Not ready to give? It has already been taken, Talon. I had my rights stripped from me without a choice. Now, I have a choice and you’re still looking at me like I’m broken. I’m not some fragile little flower, Talon.”

“Aren’t you?”

I flinch. “Fuck you.”

He steps closer, his eyes locked on mine. “You’ve seen shit I can’t begin to understand, I’ve seen what it has done to you. I ain’t the man for you, Nia. I’m not the fuckin’ Knight who is goin’ to save you and spend the rest of my life bein’ the man you want. I’m not the man you want.”

“I never fucking asked you to be my Knight. You’re the one keeping me here, you’re the one insisting you help, you’re the one who kissed me...”

His breath catches, and I see the flicker of something in his eyes—regret, pain, anger, I don’t know. “I’m goin’ to help you, but it’s not because I want to fuck you. It’s because you deserve it and it’s the right fuckin’ thing to do. I’m doin’ it for you.”

I shake my head, biting back the burn in my eyes. “No, you’re doing it for you .”

“Nia—”

I cut him off, my voice breaking. “I’m not so fucking broken. I survived hell. I can survive you .”

His hands clench into fists, and he looks like he wants to say more, but he doesn’t. He just stands there, watching me, the tension between us sharp enough to cut.

I turn away, unable to bear the weight of his gaze any longer. “Maybe you’re right. Maybe you should stay away. Don’t want to fucking break me any further.”

Before he can respond, I walk off into the night, the cool air biting at my skin and the ache in my chest growing with every step I take. I don’t look back, but I can feel his eyes on me, and it hurts more than I want to admit.

Back in my room, I sink to the floor, pulling my knees to my chest. My heart is a wild, chaotic mess, and I can still feel his presence, I can still smell him on my skin. I’m sick of being treated like I’m fragile, and I’m sick of feeling like I am. Maybe Talon is right. Maybe I am easily broken. But I don’t want to be. I’m done being the weak girl everyone thinks I am.

I’m done being this person my father so horribly molded.

Maybe it’s time I show them all who I really am.