Prologue

Storyline by: Celestine_Lemoir

English Translation by: Eva_Harlowe

PROLOGUE

He was a tidal wave.

A dangerous tidal wave she should have avoided from the very beginning, but like a surfer seeking that final barrel in a fifty-year storm, she pushed through. She swallowed her fear and met his eyes.

Those eyes that seemed to be calling for help, those eyes that spoke for his heart. 

“Love freely now, wild heart…” His voice was rough, gravelly, and as dark as a moonless night. 

Yrah found herself gaping at Trojan's brother as he said those words. She didn't know how long she stared at him like that, watching the mixture of sadness and joy in his gaze that seemed to have so much more to say.

She watched a vein in his jaw jump, observed how the dimpled scar in his left cheek appeared with the slightest movement of his face, studied the rise and fall of his Adam’s apple when he swallowed.

This man was living art in motion. 

From his messy dark strands to his thick, inky eyebrows; his long lashes that hid the emotions sketched in his green gaze, to a long, straight Greek nose with a slight downturn at the tip, pointing to tender looking lips that demanded full attention from every woman. 

He raised his arm to comb his hair back with his fingers. Yrah couldn’t help but notice the definition of his triceps when his tight t-shirt strained against his arm in the movement. When he reclined against his seat, his shirt pulled tight in the back, showing off ab muscles that were surely molded in heaven.  

The breadth of his chest was wide and solid as a tree trunk, which extended to shoulders that probably challenged most doorways. He had long, muscular legs and the veins under the fair skin of his hands and arms popped up when he flexed, which he probably wasn’t even aware of doing.

The man was a dreamboat, but his background and arrest record said otherwise. He was a nightmare she should stay away from. 

She was curious about the cause of the burn scar from his lower right cheek which extended to the side of his neck, but she would never have the guts to ask him. 

An unfamiliar, officious-looking man entered the room and called her older sister as well as Trojan, leaving her alone with Gresso. Before Bella left, she gave her a reassuring smile and told her not to be scared because Gresso wouldn’t hurt a hair on her head.

Gresso. Even his name sounded dangerous—the rolling R and the sibilant S—yet the moment she heard it, she knew it was the kind of name that would stick with her long after she left this place. 

The door closed with a click. A gasp that seemed to echo within the room escaped her open mouth when Gresso’s cold gaze captured hers. 

It was the second time their eyes had met, and her heart pounded within her ribcage as though it were trying to escape. As if it had somewhere to go. Whether it wanted to hide from the man who seemed to demand it or hop right onto his hand, she didn’t know.

She took a shallow breath, which would make the least movement, lest he charged her—when he dragged his green gaze over her from head to toe, then back to her face.  

An urge to cover herself came over her because his stare made her feel naked. Something had changed in the way he looked at her. As though he was curious, if the slight twitch in his dark eyebrows were any indication.

She swallowed hard and clamped down on the front legs of her seat when Gresso licked his bottom lip with the very tip of his tongue. Heat rushed from Yrah’s chest to her cheeks when her eyes automatically locked on that specific action.

“Are you scared?”

She blinked. She forced herself to look straight into Gresso’s glittering green gaze before sucking her own lips in, biting down with her teeth, and shaking her head.

He smirked, his eyes squinted a little before he cocked an eyebrow at her. As though he were taunting her or warning her. 

“You should be.” His voice sounded like shattered glass. He stood, showing her his full height, intimidating even though he had handcuffs on. 

She watched as his lids fluttered shut before he extended his neck to the side until it cracked. When he opened his eyes again, they zoomed in on her. 

She was forced to suck in her breath. Why was he approaching her with intent? What did he want?

Her next breath of air stayed in her lungs and she couldn’t get her limbs to cooperate so she could escape him. She was an animal caught in a trap. Her self-preservation seemed to have deserted her. 

Gresso’s eyes flickered with amusement and the danger that glittered within their depths made Yrah lick her dry lips. She knew she should be terrified, but the pounding in her heart signified something else, and she didn’t understand what it was. 

She drew in another shaky inhale when he invaded her personal space and placed his handcuffed hands over her head so that his chained arms imprisoned her, resting his palms on the solid wood table behind her. Her movement was restricted within the confines of heavily muscled arms tattooed with designs she couldn’t understand. Her mouth dried and the pounding of her heart went out of control when she looked up and realized that less than a few inches separated their faces. 

His heated gaze traveled from her eyes down to her lips. One corner of his sinful mouth quirked up as he squinted at her and a crease formed on his forehead. 

“What’s your name, sweetcake?”

He had an accent. European. He didn’t sound like an American from TV at all. She gulped. “Y—Yrah.” 

“Yrah…” he repeated in a breathy way.

The little hairs on the back of Yrah’s neck stood on end over the way he pronounced her name. yee-RAH. A soft “yee” that almost sounded like a “j” with the stress on the second syllable of her name as it should be, and his tongue trilling on the R, tickling something deep within her. yee-RAH.

Why did it sound so good coming from him?

The curve of his lips deepened, showing off perfect white teeth. “And why aren’t you afraid of me, little Yrah?”

Their gazes met and held once more. His eyes glimmered with intensity as he stared into hers, as though he were looking for the truth in her soul, and Yrah was finding herself intoxicated by this dangerous probe into the very heart of her existence. 

“B—Be Be—"

“Be-be-be.” He chuckled, a sound that carried a hint of madness, before he came close. The tips of their noses were almost touching. Her own eyes widened even more and her traitorous chest rose and fell against him, belying her nervousness. “What’s with the stutter, huh?” The tip of his tongue darted out to moisten his lips before they widened into a charming smile.

“Am I… starting to scare you?” His voice remained gentle, but there was an underlying tone of unmistakeable menace.

Yrah gulped and shook her head. “M—my sister said you’re incapable of hurting me.”

He threw his head back and laughed, seemingly entertained by the act of tormenting her. “Ah, Bella and her unshakeable belief in people like me.” He clicked his tongue. “Your sister, though thoroughly defiled by my brother by now, is as innocent as you. What could she possibly know about my kind?”

Yrah attempted to calm her rioting feelings and quiet her buzzing mind, but the very moment his gaze captured hers again, her own body betrayed her once more.

“Why not?” The corners of his eyes crinkled at the sides, resembling tiny fans. “I can see it. You’re afraid of me.”

She clamped her mouth tightly once more and shook her head, but when Gresso smacked the table behind her with the flat of his palm, she gasped with fright and jumped so that her head nearly hit his chin. 

He seemed to enjoy her reaction. He lifted one inky eyebrow and laughed before lowering his head to touch his mouth to her ear. “Aha, I knew it. The little mouse is terrified of me.”

Yrah’s hand clenched as goosebumps sprouted on her skin. “I don’t… want to be.”

“But you are, little mouse.” He squinted at her, scrutinizing her, as if assessing her for weaknesses. “You are just like everybody else.” 

She did not know why the bitterness of his laughter resonated within her. Her knees weakened as her defenses began to crumble under Gresso’s darkening, angry gaze.

He must be used to people avoiding him out of fear, which was why he’s certain that she was just like them. 

She pursed her lips, contemplating the stubborn expression on his face. She decided to call his bluff. “I think you’re the one shivering in your briefs.” She didn’t know where she found the courage to taunt him like this, but she was not going to back down now. 

He squinted at her, as though he were trying to figure her out, then laughed in her face. “I’ve been running with the devils all my life, sweetcake.” The amused glitter in his eyes disappeared and something that chilled her deep within replaced it. “Nothing scares me anymore.”

“We all have deeply imbedded primal fears to face. That’s how we evolved as humans. That reptilian brain developed a flight-or-fight response that enables you to avoid getting mauled by a bear. According to recent studies, the amygdala—"

“What are you, a scientist? Some kind of doctor, hmm?” He cut her off, a smirk curling his upper lip. 

She dropped her gaze to the ground and swept a lock of her loose hair behind her ear. “Well, no. Not yet. But I’ve already taken my MCATs and I kicked ass, so…”

“So the mouse wants to be a doctor, huh? The little miss wants to act like a big girl and save the world, one patient at a time. What kind of idiot are you? You should only be looking out for number one and that’s you, moppet.” He touched his forehead to hers to underscore that he was, indeed, talking about her. 

She took a deep breath and released it in a shaky exhale. Swallowing her anxiety, she forced herself to look at him again. “If everyone had the same fatalistic attitude as you, we’re doomed as a species. I want to make a difference. There are people out there who don’t even know how to ask for help. They won’t know who to turn to.”

He chuckled and the puffs of air that exited his mouth tickled her scalp. “You planning on martyring yourself, mouse? You know what they do to martyrs, don’t you? Don’t ask the last guy. I think he got nailed to a cross and set on fire or something. I didn’t pay attention in my religious studies.” He leaned forward again until they were nose-to-nose once more. “Some people are just waiting for death and don’t want to be fixed, princess.”

“That’s not true. Everyone deserves redemption and a chance to live a good life. When you’re on the ground and have lost all hope, all you have to do sometimes is hold your hand up. Someone will come along and get you back on your feet.”

His eyes twinkled with amusement. “You ever read any Russian novels, mouse? I’ve got nothing but time to read down here. Oh, the Russians can write pain like no other.”

He lifted his hands from the table, setting her free from the prison of his muscled arms. Even with his hand cuffed to the other, his movement was graceful. He lifted it now toward her jaw. He traced only the edge of her chin with the tip of his finger, but it was enough to rob her of her breath. 

The hair on her nape stood on end as he got bolder and he stroked the side of her face with his fingers, then hovering and hesitant which seemed uncharacteristic for him. He smiled and pushed the strands of her hair to the back of her ear. 

Yrah blinked. Why… why did he do that?

His green eyes, smoldering with an emotion she didn’t recognize, focused on her parted lips. For a moment, he said nothing at all, though a ghost of a smile flirted with his mouth. Yrah inhaled with a shudder in an effort to calm down her heart, which seemed intent on smashing through her ribcage. 

“Why don’t we make your dream come true, sweetcakes?” he murmured.

“W—What do you mean?”

Gresso’s smirk turned into a full-blown grin and when he brought their faces close together again, Yrah would swear she forgot how to breathe. Heat rose up from her chest to her cheeks and when their eyes met, the butterflies in her stomach mutated into pterodactyls. 

“Let’s play doctor.” He swiped his tongue over his sinful mouth as his brows furrowed in a taunting way. “Hey, Doctor Yrah… my lips are feeling tender. Will you check them out?”

“W—What are you—”

Her eyes popped open when his soft lips fused themselves to her. He wasn’t rough, but there was no hesitation on his part, either, and he kissed with intention. He angled his head to the side and sucked her lower lips. Jolts of involuntary and foreign sensations invaded every part of Yrah’s body. She didn’t even notice when the door opened again, as lost as she was in pure bliss. 

The correctional officers were pulling Gresso away, but his eyes remained on her, focused and unwavering. Her hand drifted up to her lips as she stared right back at him. What just happened?

The corners of his mouth lifted. “Get your MD and come back.” He winked at her. “Fix me, doc. I’ll be waiting for you…”