Chapter 5

Five minutes later, Aaron pushed the door open. His expression was a mask of icy indifference, his features seemingly carved from a single block of frost.

He had spent the last few minutes telling himself he didn’t care. Yet, in the end, his body had betrayed his logic, dragging him toward the room across the hall. He kept reciting a list of professional justifications to keep his pride intact. He was a detective. His oath to the department and the shield he carried didn’t allow him to stand by while someone’s life hung in the balance. More importantly, he needed to see the truth for himself. He wanted to witness exactly what kind of cheap, desperate stunt this little siren was pulling now to claw at his attention. He had no intention of letting a death occur under his own roof, knowing the scandal would follow his career forever.

Zoe’s door was unlocked. With a single, sharp shove, it swung wide to reveal an atmosphere so stifling it felt like a physical weight against his chest.

The room was a tomb. Heavy blackout curtains were pulled tight, sealing out every scrap of natural light from the world outside. Only a thin, pathetic sliver of radiance from the hallway flickered across the hardwood floor. The air was stagnant, thick with the scent of cold sweat and the lingering, cloying notes of inexpensive perfume that was slowly souring in the heat.

In the center of that suffocating darkness, he found her.

Zoe lay curled on the cold floorboards, her body racked with tremors. She looked like a fragile leaf caught in the eye of a hurricane. Her nightgown was a thin, crumpled slip of silk that clung to her sweat-drenched skin, tracing the curves of her body with a pathetic, raw vulnerability. Her face was deathly pale. Every drop of color had been drained from her skin, leaving her lips cracked and bone-dry. Every few seconds, a broken, strangled moan escaped her throat, echoing through the silence of the room.

She looked like a wounded animal stripped of her usual razor-sharp armor. She was exposed and helpless. Any other man, no matter how cold-hearted, would have felt a surge of pity. They would have rushed to her side, driven by an instinctive urge to protect.

But Aaron Kael was not most men. He stood there with his arms crossed over his broad chest, leaning against the doorframe like a spectator watching a mediocre play. His sharp eyes scrutinized every twitch of her muscles, searching for the moment the act would slip.

“Done with the performance yet?”

His voice was a low, gravelly rumble that vibrated through the quiet room.

The trembling stopped for a split second. Zoe braced her palms against the floor, struggling to lift her heavy head against the pull of gravity. A distorted, faint smile touched her cracked lips as she looked up at him.

“Uncle... you actually came,” she rasped, her voice sounding like broken glass. “I thought you’d rather I just died and stayed out of your way for good.”

Aaron stiffened, his brow furrowing. As a veteran investigator, he was trained to spot a lie from a mile away. He could distinguish a staged scene from a crime of passion in his sleep. A weak body could be part of a script, and the fever could be faked with the right drugs. But her eyes were different. Those glassy, hollow orbs were filled with a level of despair and exhaustion that felt entirely too real. Was this truly the same Zoe Thorne who usually carried herself with such arrogant, predatory confidence?

“I’m just here to see if you’ve stopped breathing so I can call the coroner,” Aaron replied. He quickly masked his brief moment of doubt, reclaiming his usual cold authority.

“Not dead yet,” Zoe whispered. She let out a soft, jagged laugh, her clear eyes narrowing with a sudden flash of madness. “I can’t go to my grave yet. Not until I’ve had a real taste of you first. I’m not that generous.”

She reached out a shaking hand, grasping at the air between them as if he were a lifeline. Her voice broke as she whispered her next words. “Come here... please. Help me.”

Aaron stayed rooted to the spot. His mind screamed at him to turn around and walk away, to leave the siren to her own devices. But his legs felt like they were made of lead. Then, as if pulled by an invisible, irresistible force, he moved. Step by step, the heavy thud of his boots echoed on the wood as he approached the center of the mess.

When he finally stood over her, Zoe reached out and gripped the fabric of his tailored trousers. She held on with the last of her strength, her voice cracking with genuine pain. “Carry me to the bed. Please. It’s so cold down here. It feels like the ice is getting into my bones.”

Aaron looked down at her pale face, then at her bloodied, cracked lips. Finally, his gaze met the nameless fire burning in her eyes. He could see that she was in agony. Her body was clearly failing her. Yet, even at her lowest point, she hadn’t forgotten her singular goal. She was still trying to seduce him, still trying to drag him into the abyss with her.

That terrifying persistence repulsed him, yet it held a lethal fascination he couldn’t quite shake. With a heavy, defeated exhale, Aaron knelt. He slid one arm beneath her knees and the other behind her back, lifting her easily.

She was shockingly light, as if she were made of nothing but glass and secrets. But her skin was burning, searing through the fabric of his shirt like a live coal. The moment she was enveloped by his solid chest and the scent of his cologne, she collapsed into him. She buried her face in the hollow of his neck, inhaling deeply.

“I knew it,” she murmured against his skin, a note of triumph bleeding through the pain. “You always were the easiest one to break.”

Aaron didn’t give her the satisfaction of a response. He strode toward the bed, intending to drop her onto the mattress and leave before he lost his grip on the situation. But as he leaned down to set her body onto the sheets, Zoe acted. With a speed born of pure adrenaline, she wound her arms around his neck, locking her fingers together like a vise.

“What do you think you’re doing?” he hissed, his face only inches from hers.

Zoe didn’t say a word. She closed her eyes and used the very last of her strength to lunge upward. She didn’t seek a soft kiss or a gentle embrace. She claimed his mouth with a raw, desperate violence.

It wasn’t a kiss. It was a bite.

She bit down on his lower lip hard enough for the metallic taste of blood to flood both their mouths. Aaron winced, a low growl of surprise escaping him, but Zoe was already pulling away. She fell back onto the pillows, her chest heaving as she fought for air.

The smear of bright, crimson blood against her pale skin was haunting. She looked like a spider lily blooming in the middle of a graveyard. She slowly licked the blood from her lip, staring at him with a predatory intensity.

“Consider that a down payment,” she whispered, her voice a ghostly rasp. “From now on, you belong to me. I’ve marked you, Aaron. And I never give back what’s mine.”