Total pages in book: 27
Estimated words: 24205 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 121(@200wpm)___ 97(@250wpm)___ 81(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 24205 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 121(@200wpm)___ 97(@250wpm)___ 81(@300wpm)
I opened my mouth to argue, to defend the normalcy of our past friendship, but he continued a relentless tide.
“You never batted an eye, no matter what I did. The fights, the rage, the darkness I reveled in—you never turned away. A normal girl would have seen the monster in me. You chose to see me as human.”
His words were a mirror reflecting what I knew to be true. There was a reason our friend group consisted solely of me and him. I’d tried to bring in others, but after a day or so, they stayed away from me—Lucian too. He was an enigma that I had never shied away from. His darkest moments were met with my unwavering denial that anything was different between him and other boys.
Our past bound us in ways I was only now beginning to fully understand.
Memories of his fondness for R. L. Stine and Dragon Ball surfaced in my mind, fragments of a simpler time when I used those interests to paint a picture of normalcy around him. They were the crutches I clung to, to humanize the boy who was now a man shrouded in darkness.
“You’re even pretty when you cry,” Lucian’s voice pulled me abruptly from my thoughts, his tone deceptively softer now. I was suddenly aware of the wetness on my cheeks, tears silently making their way down my face. “I know you want answers, and you’ll have them, I promise. But only when we’re home.”
Home. The word echoed in my mind, a reminder of the agreement I had unwittingly made. There seemed to be no escape from the path he had set us on, no alternative ending to the narrative he was writing.
“What about my parents? My life?” I managed to ask, grasping at straws.
“I never said you wouldn’t see them again,” he offered, but the words were empty, devoid of tangible reassurance. His next statement was final, a declaration etched in stone. “And your life is now the same as mine.”
His claim settled around me. I realized then that to Lucian, I was the ultimate prize in a game, only he fully understood the rules to. It was something that had been long in the making.
“Okay,” I murmured, a note of resignation threading through the word. I knew I had to continue playing—for now.
His hands tightened on my face. “I swear to you, you're going to be happy. I'll make sure of it. You'll have everything you could ever want.”
“Are you happy? Is this what you enjoy doing?”
His reply was chilling in its nonchalance. “Initiations are always a refreshing diversion from the norm, but yes, I love my life. And it's about to get even better with you in it.”
Initiation. The word spun in my head, a key to understanding the night's horrors. And yet, his answer hinted at the notion that my compliance, my actions tonight, were part of a larger ritual I couldn’t begin to comprehend.
Lucian's face drew nearer. “I'm going to apologize in advance for what I'm about to do.”
His words had an immediate rise of apprehension igniting within me. “What do you mean?”
His gaze was unreadable behind the mask, but no less intense. “We didn't come back here just to show you that Mara was alive.”
I slowly started to understand.
“Lucian,” I cautioned.
“Shh,” he soothed, almost tenderly. “This is something I've imagined since the day you left for college,” he confessed as he led me toward my bedroom, locking the door behind him after we entered, taking me right back to that night at the Evergreen.
Every step felt like a descent, not just toward a physical place, but into the depths of Lucian's morbid desires.
“No,” I objected, pulling against him.
In a heartbeat, the dismal space between us collapsed, the world tilted, and suddenly I was underneath him, my back pressed into the softness of my duvet.
I looked up, dazed and disoriented into the obsidian eyes of his mask. His body was a cage of warmth and power that had my heart beating erratically. He removed his bloodied gloves and tossed them onto my nightstand.
“We can’t—”
He firmly covered my mouth with one hand, using the other to drag my pajama pants and underwear halfway down. I protested, pushing against him, but he was too strong, like a heated wall of steel. Holding me in place, he deftly undid his pants, sliding them down just enough to be able to fuck me.
He removed his hand from my mouth and grabbed my wrists, pinning them to the bed above my head. The mattress creaked as he adjusted his weight.
“Lucian, don’t do this.”
“Before you even started protesting, your breathing changed, and your pupils dilated.”
He reached between my legs and cupped my pussy. “And this. We don’t even need foreplay.”
He used two fingers to spread me open. “You’re going to fight me and tell me you don’t want this, and I’m going to keep fucking you until nothing matters but how good I make you feel.”