Juliet’s blue hair is a mass of clean waves down her back as she strides, quickly and with confidence, down the hallway. Diving through the brush, I follow after her. The skinny man from before—the one that had opened Morpheus’ car door—is with her now. His lips are moving, but so far away I can’t hear anything he’s saying. Whatever it is, though, it’s upsetting Juliet. Her own expression grows harder and harder until she stops outside of a door.
I take stock of the windows and where they’re located. The room beyond the door seems set on a far end of one wing of the mansion. A corner space. A bedroom? Most likely.
Pulling up the blueprints that I sourced online before coming here in the days she’s been away and I’ve been… otherwise unable to do fuck all, I double-check my guess and find that I’m correct. It’s a bedroom with an attached bath. Hers, probably.
Now is my time.
Pocketing the phone once more, I scan the outside of the mansion, noting the vines creeping along the sides as well as the lattice work of pretty foliage. There’s no telling how long something like that could hold a body of my size and weight, though.
Thankfully, there’s a decent-sized oak tree nearby with a branch that might be long enough for me to get close enough to the window to jump. If Lady Luck exists, she’s a romantic… or she’s a vengeful soul just like me.
37
JULIET
Stuart’s constant spiel of gratefulness and ladylike behavior after Morpheus takes off is enough to drive a girl insane. Once I get to the door to my bedroom, I’ve had enough.
“Stop!” I snap, turning on the man that’s been following me like a goddamn chihuahua with a bad attitude for the last several minutes. “Just shut up! I don’t give a fuck what you think of me, Stuart. You are not the one in charge. You are just here to watch me. Not police me. Leave me the fuck alone and I won’t make your life hell.”
“Miss Donovan, how dare?—”
There’s no point in listening to him anymore. My nerves are shot, my insides liquified into nothing but hate and rage and hurt. I dive into the bedroom I’m staying in and slam the door shut, pressing my forehead to the solid wood and breathing in deep at the sound of Stuart’s continued stuttering behind. Seconds pass, but then finally, I hear him retreat. Only then do I release a sigh of relief.
“Take off your fucking clothes.” Jerking, I whirl to face the direction of the sudden and surprising voice. My jaw drops when I spot Lex as he finishes swinging his leg over the ledge of the window and steps into the bedroom.
“What are you doing here?” My heart pounds against my rib cage, the sight of him driving up the temperature in the room several degrees. It hurts to fucking look at him after everything I said.
It’s only been days—a blink in a lifetime—and yet it feels like eons since I’ve last seen him. I take in as much of his features as I can, already knowing that if he’s discovered, it may truly be the last time.
“Take. Off. Your. Fucking. Clothes.” Each word from his mouth is accompanied by a step towards me. Lex moves like a wraith in the night, every step a concentration in control. His words, though, are barely restrained.
Heat burns at the back of my eyes and I shove down the urge to throw myself at him, to cry and hold on to him for dear life. Instead, I straighten my spine and face him like it hasn’t killed me to be away from him and the others for the last few days.
“You shouldn’t be here,” I say. “Youcan’tbe here.”
Lex draws nearer and it becomes clear that he hasn’t shaved since we last faced each other. The beard growth is a shadow along his jaw. His cheekbones stand out sharply above the bronze of his skin, his eyes appearing almost sunken in. If I were a betting woman, I’d put money on the fact that he likely hasn’t slept since I left either.
He comes right up to me and my spine presses into the thick, hard wood of the door as Lex’s arm comes down above my head, pinning my body between him and the door. Dipping down until the cold fury in his eyes is unmistakable, he rumbles out another breath.
“I don’t give a fuck.”
Chest rising and falling, I breathe him in. Spice and musk and… home. He smells like fucking home to me now. More pain slices through my insides, wrapping my organs in barbed wireand tightening. I shove both hands against his chest and push. He doesn’t move.
“Lex, you—” My words cut off sharply as his other hand snaps to my throat and closes around it. My cunt clenches and I blink as the urge to whimper nearly overwhelms me.
Silence stretches between us as a mask falls away from Lex’s expression. Anger. Hurt. Agony so deep and rich that flows from his eyes and into my soul, he stares back at me. The hand against my throat trembles, fingers contracting almost on impulse and then loosening only to tighten all over again. As if he can’t decide what he wants to do—kill me or kiss me.
How did we get here? I wonder. How did I go from hating the Scorpion Kings to willingly walking into hell to save them?
“You don’t get to leave.” Lex’s chest pumps up and down with each breath he takes. I’m quiet as I watch the struggle in his face. To kill. To kiss. To destroy. To worship. Which is worse for him? To love me as much as he hates me? “You don’t get to give me everything and then walk away.”
“Lex—”
He clamps down as I try to speak. “You. Are.Mine.” Each monosyllabic word is accompanied by the sensation of his fingers pressing harder and harder along either side of my neck.
Black dots dance in front of me, making it nearly impossible to see him clearly. I grip his wrist, digging my nails in as I focus on him.
I’m sorry.I open my mouth to say the words, but they don’t come out. Not only can I not let them come out, but I can hardly breathe with his fingers squeezing my throat. Lex’s eyes are wild. Animalistic. There is a desperate edge to his actions, to the way he squeezes me tight. His pupils dilate as he stares into my eyes, expanding as shadow overtakes smoke.
