LOGINThe scream hung in the freezing air of the bedroom. It echoed off the high plaster ceiling and the dark wood panels, a broken, jagged sound of pure panic that tore through the heavy silence.Killian did not move.His entire massive frame turned to stone over her. The violent, driving rhythm of his hips stopped instantly. The brutal grip of his right hand went slack against her throat. His left hand, which had been pinning both of her wrists above her head with crushing force, loosened just enough for her pale, shaking fingers to slip free.Luna kept screaming.Her eyes were squeezed shut, her face flushed red and streaked with hot tears. She thrashed underneath his weight, kicking blindly, completely lost in the sheer, overwhelming terror of the assault. She didn't realize what she was doing. She didn't realize the sound was coming from her own throat. The trauma had simply overwhelmed the mental dam she had built at six years old, and her voice had broken through.Killian stared down
The red handprint burned across Killian’s pale jaw.For one agonizing second, neither of them moved. The rain lashed against the windows. Luna’s chest heaved. Her hands shook violently in the space between them. She stared into his entirely black eyes, the paralyzing reality of what she had just done sinking into her bones.Then the silence broke.Killian lunged forward.Luna scrambled backward, kicking out wildly, but there was nowhere to go. His left hand shot out and clamped around both of her narrow wrists. He jerked her arms up over her head and slammed them flat against the mattress, pinning her down with crushing force.She thrashed. She twisted her hips and kicked her good leg against his side. Her swollen ankle hit the mattress, sending a shockwave of pain up her calf, but she didn’t stop fighting. Tears spilled over her eyelashes, streaming down her pale cheeks in hot, wet lines.Killian didn’t care.His right hand grabbed the collar of her ruined, damp shirt. He curled his
Luna swallowed hard. The sharp movement was visible in her pale throat. She pulled her hands entirely under the quilt and curled her knees tighter toward her stomach. She refused to look at him. Killian waited. He counted the seconds in his head. Ten. Twenty. His jaw tightened. The control he was holding onto began to fracture. "Who helped you." More silence. Only the sound of the rain drumming against the thick glass. He stood up abruptly. He walked across the wide room, his heavy boots leaving wet prints on the rug. He stopped at the mahogany desk, ripped the top drawer open, and pulled out a cream-colored notepad and a black ink pen. He slammed the drawer shut with his hip. He walked back to the bed. He tossed the notepad onto the mattress near her waist. He dropped the pen on top of it. "Write it." The order was absolute. Luna slowly turned her head. She looked down at the notepad. Then she looked at the pen. She did not reach for it. She did not slide her hand out from
The heavy wooden door clicked shut.The brass lock slid into place with a sharp, metallic snap that echoed through the massive bedroom.Killian stood near the entrance. The space smelled of rain, wet earth, and the faint trace of old woodsmoke. A single lamp burned on the corner desk, casting long yellow shadows across the floorboards.Luna lay exactly where he had placed her. She was swallowed by the center of the giant mattress. His black wool coat covered her to her chin, but it did not stop the cold. Rainwater dripped from her matted hair, soaking into the grey silk sheets.She stared straight up at the ceiling. Her chest moved in fast, shallow jerks. Violent tremors rattled her jaw, her teeth clicking together in the quiet room. She made no other sound.Killian walked into the adjoining bathroom. The tile floor echoed under his boots. He returned moments later carrying a glass basin of steaming water, thick white towels, and a metal medical box.He dragged a heavy leather armchai
Marco opened the back door. Killian slid inside still holding her and settled her across his lap instead of letting her sit on the seat. His arms locked around her immediately—one around her waist, the other across her thighs—holding her tight against his chest. The door shut with a solid click. The engine rumbled to life. Marco took the front passenger seat and said nothing the entire drive. The right-hand man had seen a lot over the years, but even he kept his eyes forward now, giving them the silence they needed.The SUV picked its way slowly along the rough forest track. Rain lashed the windows in sheets. Killian stared down at the top of her head, feeling the faint warmth of her breath against his collar. Her body still shook under his coat, but the tremors were slower now, exhaustion winning out. He kept one hand on the back of her head, fingers threaded gently through her damp hair, holding her exactly where she belonged. Against him. In his arms. Where she had alway
Killian stood in the doorway of the broken hut and let the rain drip from his hair onto the rotting floorboards. The grey dawn light behind him cut through the holes in the roof and fell across the small, curled shape in the corner. She looked even smaller than he remembered. Soaked clothes clung to her like a second skin. Blood streaked her knees in dark, dried lines. A fresh cut across her forehead had matted her hair. Her left ankle was swollen, thick and purple, the skin stretched tight above the ruined shoe. Her whole body shook with hard, uncontrollable tremors that rattled her shoulders against the wood.His jaw clenched once, hard enough that the muscle jumped. The violence simmering under his skin wanted to tear the entire forest apart for letting her get this far. But his face stayed calm. Controlled. He had learned a long time ago that rage was more useful when it stayed quiet.He moved slowly, lowering himself to one knee beside her the way a man might
The car pulled through the gates just after sunset.Irina sat in the backseat, her posture perfect, her hands folded in her lap. The mansion came into view through the tinted windows.She was back.The car stopped at the main entrance. The driver opened her door and she stepped out, her heels click
Killian POVThe door closed behind her.I sat alone at the table, my fork still in my hand, the food on my plate half-finished.I set the fork down. The small sound echoed in the empty room.My hands rested on the table. Flat. Still.I stared at the empty chair across from me. The chair where she'd
Third Person POVFootsteps approached down the corridor. Two sets. Marco's controlled stride and the sharper tap of a cane against marble.Killian stood at the window of his study, hands clasped behind his back. His reflection stared back from the dark glass. Calm. Composed. Still.The door opened.
Like I hadn't just broken his glass and spilled water across his table and flinched away from him like a beaten dog.I sat frozen beside him, every muscle in my body tense and waiting for the punishment that had to be coming. But he just continued eating in silence, his movements methodical and con







