Semua Bab Crave The Enemy : Bab 51 - Bab 60

SASHAThe restraints loosen and fall away, but Sorrelina doesn't make an attempt to step back. Her small hands remain steady on my arms while her eyes remain locked on mine.And fuck if they don't remind me of Nico's. The room feels smaller now. We’re in her therapy suite, or whatever the hell she calls this place.“My father was here last week,” I say, my voice rough. “Running his mouth about shit he shouldn’t know.”Mostly, I didn't give a shit about what he said and mentally blocked him out the whole time he was here.Sorrelina circles me for a while then stops by my side, her head cocked by the side as if she's trying to measure out how much more I can take.She's got something up her sleeve. That's for sure.I just don't know what.“Up,” she finally commands, her voice firm. “Get up, Sasha.” She hauls me to my feet, as if she doesn't fucking realize how weak and disoriented I am.I don't know what the fuck she put me on but it's made me so drowsy I can't even see straight. When I

SashaThe arena is a bit too warm, a bit too bright and fucking alive. I hate it already.Everything smells like salt and old money—washed so many times it’s lost its shine. Jasmine clings to the air, mixed with cigarette smoke and the faint copper scent of blood no one cared to clean. The terrace is marble and torchlight, built on lies stacked over more lies. Everyone here smiles with the kind of teeth that have torn someone open.Aiden stands half a step behind my left as always. It's funny how I've gotten used to that even though there was once a time when we were taken away from each other. He's like my right hand man, always watching my blind side. He's drinking vodka, which I think is a bad idea seeing as we're currently in the midst of wolves, but Aiden wouldn't give a shit about that.I'm holding a glass of water which I have no intention of tasting.Boris and the other guards are positioned in every corner of this room and yet, I still have this feeling that something is comin

Nico's POV The moment I step into the arena, my throat goes dry—and not the normal dry of being in the midst of dozens of criminals. No, it's the I might drop dead and die in front of hundreds of mafia bosses kind of dry.Perfect. Exactly how I imagined my night going.The double doors are open, light spilling into the hallway. And every inch of me is vibrating, like someone plugged a live wire into me.And something that I find dangerously funny is the fact that I already feel him. I can't see him yet, but it's like my whole body is aware of his presence.That sharp, precise, terrifying awareness you get from someone who has already branded themselves into your nervous system and made it impossible for you to exist without them being near.My hand tightens around the wrist of the woman standing beside me. Not because I want to, but because if I don't, I might grab onto the wall and slide down like a Victorian widow.I inhale slowly and exhale fast. I do it once, twice, three times.

58: Don't Get Excited Sasha's POV The parking lot still smells like oil and night air. Nico doesn't move closer, and I don't know why it unsettles me.He stands where he is, one step back, his hands visible, shoulders tense like a man bracing for impact. He doesn't seem concerned. It's more like he's begging not to be mistaken for a threat."Someone else," I repeat flatly. "Explain slowly and choose your next words very carefully."He exhales through his nose, dragging a hand down his face. Like he's trying to pull himself together."I didn't sell you out," he says, "and I didn't give my father anything that could have caused what happened seven months ago. I thought I did at first. I blamed myself. In fact, I still do. But the timeline doesn't add up."I cross my arms defensively."Funny," I say. "The timeline kind of adds up over here."His jaw tightens. He nods once, like he deserves that."I know. That's why I didn't come to you sooner. Because if I were you, I wouldn't believe

Chapter 60Mark me again Nico's POV The kiss doesn't soften. It detonates.Sasha's mouth crashes against mine like he's trying to punish me for every second we've been apart—teeth scraping, tongue demanding, a low growl rumbling from his chest that vibrates straight through me. My back is still pinned to the wall, his hand firm around my throat, thumb pressing just enough against my pulse to remind me who's in control. I don't fight it. I've dreamed of this exact brutality for seven months.I kiss him back just as hard, fists twisted in his shirt, pulling him impossibly closer. He tastes like everything I've fantasized about for the past seven months, like the water I didn't know I was dying of thirst for. My knees nearly buckle when he rolls his hips forward, grinding against me, letting me feel how hard he already is.He breaks the kiss only to drag his teeth down my jaw, biting hard enough at the hinge to make me hiss. "Seven months," he rasps against my skin, voice wrecked. "Sev