Page 18 of Wicked Chains (Serpentine Academy #2)

Sixteen

Rose

Sleep is not happening tonight. I've been tossing around in these sheets for hours, my brain replaying the day.

Ash's eyes on me as Lucien walked away, Helena's threats, and then there's the pressure of the mark on my arm, a constant reminder that I'm owned, that I’m not free. I flip my pillow for the dozenth time, as if the problem is my bed and not the fact that my life has turned into a nightmare ever since I got the one thing I’d always wanted my whole life: real magic.

'Be careful what you wish for' has never been more accurate.

I check my phone. 2:17 AM. I roll onto my back and stare at the ceiling, knowing it’s going to be a long night.

I can't stop thinking about that moment with Lucien. The way his lips felt against mine, the hunger in his eyes before he pulled away.

And beneath all that, the constant, gnawing worry about Drake. Where is he? Why did he disappear? Is he avoiding me on purpose?

"Damn it," I mutter, kicking off the covers and sitting up. My tank top is all twisted around my torso, and my sleep shorts have ridden up uncomfortably. I straighten my clothes with angry tugs, mad at the world tonight.

I’m about to get up and get a glass of water when the air in the room shifts subtly. A barely perceptible drop in temperature that makes the hair on my arms stand up. I stop, suddenly alert, eyes searching the darkness.

“Drake?” I whisper.

"I’m here."

My heart skips painfully as his familiar form materializes at the foot of my bed. Drake stands there, hands in the pockets of his ghostly trousers, hair falling across his forehead in that way that usually makes my stomach do flips. Tonight, it just makes me angry.

"Where the hell have you been?" I demand, keeping my voice quiet despite my rising temper.

Drake's expression is unreadable. "Around."

"Around?" I repeat incredulously. "That's all you have to say? You vanish for days, then just show up in my bedroom at two in the morning with 'around'?"

He moves closer, perching on the edge of my bed. "It wasn't that long," he says.

"Seriously? After everything that's happened, you just disappeared. I thought Ash banished you again!" Which is true. I did think that. But what I don’t say is that I was worried that he left me . That he didn’t want me.

"I'm here now," he says, reaching for my hand.

I pull back before he can touch me. "That's not good enough. Where were you? What happened?"

A look crosses over him before his expression returns to his normal, slightly melancholy face. "It doesn't matter. I'm back."

"It matters to me," I insist.

"It was nothing. No big deal."

I slide farther back on the bed, putting distance between us. "You're lying to me. I can tell."

"Rose—"

"No. Don't 'Rose' me like I'm being unreasonable. You've been acting weird ever since I brought you back. Something's wrong, and you're not telling me."

"Not everything is your problem to solve."

"When it involves you leaving me without a word, without a warning? Yeah, it kind of is my problem."

Drake's eyes flash with genuine hurt. "You think I'm abandoning you on purpose? That I'd choose to be away from you?"

"I don't know what to think because you won't tell me the truth!"

"The truth is complicated," he says, voice rising to match mine.

"Then un-complicate it!"

"I can't!" He stands abruptly, pacing at the foot of my bed. "It's not that simple."

"Try me," I challenge him. "I'm pretty good with complicated these days."

Drake stops pacing and looks at me, really looks at me, for what feels like the first time since he appeared. "What do you want me to say, Rose? That I might not—" He cuts himself off.

"Might not what?" I slide to the edge of the bed, fear replacing anger in an instant. "Drake, what's happening to you?"

He shakes his head. "Forget it. I shouldn't have come."

"Don't you dare," I hiss, standing up to face him. "Don't you dare walk out on me again."

"I'm not walking out," he says, taking a step toward me. "I just don't want to fight with you."

"Then stop hiding things from me!"

We're toe to toe now, my face angled up to glare at him, his haunting eyes dark with emotions I can't read.

"You're impossible," he mutters.

"And you're a liar," I fire back. "Get out."

Instead of leaving, he reaches for me, his hands finding my waist and pulling me against him. "No."

"Let go of me," I demand, even as my traitorous body responds to his touch.

"Make me," he challenges.

I push against his chest, and he lets me, but doesn't release me. His eyes hold mine, and I see so much there, I see desperation, need, fear, and it stops my next angry words from coming out.

"Drake," I say, softer now. "Just tell me what's wrong."

He shakes his head. "I can't. Not tonight. Please, Rose. I don't want to fight with you."

I push him away again, harder this time. "Then you shouldn't have lied to me."

His hands slide from my waist as I step back, but in a blur of movement he's in front of me again, backing me against the wall.

"I'm here now. Isn't that enough?"

"No," I say, but I’m the liar now, and he knows it.

His eyes search mine. One of his hands comes up to touch my face, thumb brushing across my lower lip. "Are you sure about that?"

The truth is, I've missed him so much it caused me real, physical pain. I don’t want him to leave. I really don’t. But bad habits are hard to break, so instead of telling him that, I push him away.

I shove at his chest. "Yes. Go."

He smiles, and there's a dare in his eyes as he catches my wrists, pinning them gently but firmly against the wall on either side of my head. "Try again," he says, leaning close.

My heart races, but I’m not afraid, nope. It’s something else making it go a mile a minute, something else entirely. "Let me go," I say, but my voice is breathy, giving me away. My hips push closer to him.

"Is that really what you want?"

I twist my wrists in his grip, not trying very hard to break free. "Yes."

He leans closer, his lips hovering just above mine. "Liar."

Then he kisses me, and it's hungry, demanding, a clash of lips and teeth and tongue that steals my breath and my anger all at once. I resist for about two seconds before I'm kissing him back, meeting his every move with my own.

He releases my wrists, his hands moving to my hips, pulling me against him. I grab his shoulders, one hand sliding up into his hair, using the grip to angle his head, deepening the kiss even as I push him backward.

We stumble across the room, still kissing, until we get to my bed. I shove him down and he pulls me with him, our bodies tangling as we fall onto the mattress. I end up straddling him, looking down at his face in the moonlight.

"You drive me crazy," I tell him as I try to catch my breath.

His hands slide up my thighs. "That makes us even."

I grab his wrists this time, pinning them above his head the way he did to me, leaning down until our faces are inches apart. "No more disappearing without a word."

His eyes darken. "I can't promise that."

"Try harder," I insist, tightening my grip on his wrists.

In a move I don't see coming, he flips us over, reversing our positions so that he's above me, his body pressing mine into the mattress.

I pull him down to me, kissing him deeply, letting my body say what words can't.

His hands slide under my tank top, fingers tracing lacy patterns on my skin that make me shiver.

I tug at his shirt, wanting it gone, wanting nothing between us.

He obliges, sitting back on his heels to pull it over his head.

I take the opportunity to remove my own top, tossing it somewhere on the floor.

Drake's eyes roam over my bare breasts, hungry and appreciative. "You're beautiful," he murmurs, leaning down to press a kiss between my breasts.

"You're not so bad yourself," I reply, running my hands over his shoulders, his hard chest, real but not living.

When he closes his lips around my nipple, I gasp. He sucks, slow, then fast, flicking his tongue in that way that drives me crazy, and my body answers him, melting, tightening, needy, wet. My hips rock against him, searching for more friction, more him.

He trails a path down my stomach with his lips, making my muscles jump and twitch beneath his touch. When he reaches the waistband of my shorts, he looks up at me, a question in his eyes.

I nod, lifting my hips to help as he slides them down my legs. The cool air hits my skin, but I'm so hot that it's a turn-on rather than a discomfort.

Drake moves back up my body, his lips finding mine again as his hand slides between my thighs. I whimper against his mouth as his fingers explore me, finding exactly the right spot to make my back arch off the bed.

"Still want me to leave?" he asks, his voice rough.

"Shut up," I tell him, reaching between us to unfasten his trousers, pushing them down his hips.

He kicks them off the rest of the way, then settles between my thighs, the hard length of him pressing against me. "Rose," he says.

I wrap my legs around him, pulling him closer. "Please," I whisper.

Drake braces himself on one elbow, his other hand guiding himself to my entrance. He pushes inside slowly, filling me inch by inch until I'm panting, my hands gripping his shoulders.

"God," I breathe as he begins to move, setting a rhythm that has me seeing stars. "You feel so good."

His only response is a groan as he buries his face in my neck, his hips moving against mine in a dance as old as time. I match his movements, lifting to meet each thrust, my body chasing the pleasure only he can give me.

We move together, the earlier anger transforming into something else, something primal and necessary. His hands are everywhere, mine exploring every inch of him I can reach. Our kisses grow messier, more desperate as the tension builds.

"Drake," I gasp as he hits a spot deep inside me that makes my vision blur. "Right there. Don't stop."

He increases the pace, his movements becoming more urgent. One of his hands slides between us, finding that sensitive bundle of nerves that makes me cry out. "Come for me," he urges.

The combination of his words, his touch, and the relentless rhythm of his hips sends me over the edge. I shatter into a thousand pieces beneath him, my body arching as wave after wave of my orgasm crashes over me. He follows moments later, his face straining beautifully as he finds his own release.

Afterward, we lie together, my head on his chest, his arm around me, as my breathing gradually slows, returning to normal. The quiet of the room settles around us.

"I missed you," I admit softly, linking my fingers with his.

His arm tightens around me. "I missed you too. More than you know."

I lift my head to look at him. "Are you okay? Really?"

Something sad passes over his face, so quickly I almost miss it. "I'm here with you," he says, which isn't really an answer. "That's all that matters right now."

I want to push, to demand the truth, but I'm tired of fighting. And I'm afraid of what the truth might be. So I lay my head back on his chest, listening to the silence where a heartbeat should be.

"Stay with me tonight," I say, closing my eyes. "Until morning."

His hand strokes my hair gently. “Sleep, sweet Rose.”

It's not the same as promising to stay all night, I notice. Not the same as promising to tell me what's wrong. But it's something.

For now, that has to be enough.