LOGINEcho POV
I’m moving before anyone can speak, boots pounding toward the door. The guys are right behind me.
“Echo,” Ghost calls, jogging to keep up, “what’s the plan if she chose to be there? If she wants to stay?”
I stop dead, turn, and look him in the eye.
“Then I burn the whole fucking place down with all of us in it,” I say, ev
Siren’s POVAll I wanted was to feel safe again, but somehow I made everything worse.I keep replaying it in my head: the way he recoiled, the way he couldn’t even look at me when I reached for him. One half of me wants to believe he pulled away because he was trying to protect me, because he thought I needed space. The other half, the louder half, whispers that it’s because someone else touched me. That James left something filthy on my skin, inside me, and now Echo can’t stand the sight of it.Dirty, used and ruined.I stand under the shower until the water runs cold, then turn it hotter again. The loofah is long gone; I’m using my nails now, raking them over my throat, my breasts, the insides of my thighs , anywhere he put his hands, his mouth, himself. I scrub until my skin is angry red, until it stings with eve
Echo’s POVI sit in the chair across the room and watch her sleep, counting every slow rise and fall of her chest like it’s the only thing keeping me from tearing the walls down. We’ve been back maybe an hour, no more, and she’s curled on my bed under my blanket, bruises blooming across her skin like storm clouds. I haven’t moved closer. I don’t trust myself yet.I’m furious with her.Not for what happened, none of that is her fault, but for the fact she walked straight into the dark without once stopping to ask if it was really me. She saw a username and a pinned location and she went. No call. No text. No “Echo, is this you?” She just went.If she had paused for even a second she would have realised I’d never hide behind some fake handle. If I was going to break the rules and watch her, I’d do it loud and proud with my real name flashing for t
Echo POVHe tries to laugh through the ruin of his mouth, a wet, gurgling sound that only makes me hit him harder. I stomp on his hand until every finger snaps like dry twigs under my boot. The scream that rips out of him is pure music, and I laugh, raw, broken, completely fucking insane, because that scream is nothing compared to what he put her through.I haul him up by the throat again and slam him face-first into the wall of photographs, her photographs. Glass frames shatter against his skull, pins tear from the plaster, and I grind his cheek into the jagged edges until blood pours down her smiling faces like tears. I drag the knife up his back in one long, shallow cut from spine to shoulder blade, deep enough to feel him shudder but not deep enough to kill. Not yet.He whimpers, trying to twist away, and I spin him around and drive my fist into his mouth so hard his lips split against
Echo POVI’m moving before anyone can speak, boots pounding toward the door. The guys are right behind me.“Echo,” Ghost calls, jogging to keep up, “what’s the plan if she chose to be there? If she wants to stay?”I stop dead, turn, and look him in the eye.“Then I burn the whole fucking place down with all of us in it,” I say, every word carved in stone. “If I can’t have her, no fucker can.”No one argues.I swing onto my bike, fire it up, and we ride. The whole way my mind is a war zone. Voices screaming that she’s hurt, that she’s scared, that I failed her, that someone’s touching what’s mine. Someone is going to die tonight. I don’t care if she walked in willingly or not; eight hours silent means she didn’t have a choice
Echo’s POVSleeping isn’t an option. I fucking tried. I figured if I passed out, tomorrow would come faster, but my brain won’t shut the hell up. It isn’t the beating, although every breath feels like broken glass. It’s pure, electric excitement. I’m like a kid on Christmas Eve who knows the biggest present under the tree is finally his.The guys are still drinking, but it’s light. Most would’ve dragged their asses to bed hours ago, yet they’re camped out here, half to stop me bolting to her place, half because they feel bad for turning me into a human punching bag. I don’t feel bad. I’d do it again in a heartbeat.Knox tops up my glass. I stare at the whiskey like it owes me money.“What time is it?” I ask for the hundredth ti
Siren’s POVHe’s been following me. The pictures prove it, dozens of them pinned up like a shrine, some from last month, some from weeks before that. My gaze slides back to the corner, to what I thought was a doll.“What have you done, James?” My voice cracks, barely above a whisper.He smiles, soft and proud, like I just complimented his art. “While I was getting this place ready, I kept trying to find a replacement. Someone who felt close enough. But none of them worked. So I started taking the parts that reminded me of you. Hair. Eyes. The curve of a smile. Skin is the hardest to get right, though.”Bile burns my throat. I swallow it down and force my voice steady.“You could have just talked to me.”His face twists. “You threatened me wi
Danielle POVThe past two months have been... strange. In some ways, they’ve been good. In others, they’ve been unsettling. Charlotte’s been coming and going like smoke on the wind. Every time she returns, the
Vesper POVI don’t know what the hell is happening to me.One part of me still wants to kill him, grab my blade, shove him off, and remind him exactly who I am. But the other part? The other part is unra
Danielle POVAs we all head inside, the sounds of laughter and music drift through the open clubhouse doors. The fire pit’s already roaring, and the scent of grilled meat hits my nose. I look up at Knox, who’s walking beside me now instead of ahead like
Ghost POVWe circle each other, feet shifting, eyes locked. There’s no noise from the rest of the club. No one’s coming to stop us. They know better. This isn’t sparring. This isn’t posturing. This is a war that’s been simmering under t







