Shannon > Recent Status Updates

He is afraid—not only of what might happen to her, but also of what he might do to the world in retaliation.

I open my mouth to say, I don’t want to put you out. I can take care of myself. It’s fine. But maybe it’s not. Maybe I can take care of myself, but I don’t mind some help… So what I settle on is “Thank you.” I …Don’t bother hiding the way I’m burying my nose in the soft, worn flannel. He doesn’t mind: I can practically taste his satisfaction and relief at not having to fight me on this.

He wants to show her every corner of his territory. The deep blue lakes and the snow-capped peaks. Moss-draped trees and rock spires. He wants to be with her for each marveled intake of breath.

The simple chord rises up, enveloping us. “You did it. Look at you.” I grin wide, lift my eyes to meet his, and find that he’s already staring at me, black eyed and voracious. “Look at you,” he says. At least, I think so. I could have imagined it, because it’s little more than a whispered growl, quickly followed by a much lighter question. “Now what?” he asks.

My voice cracks. For the past decade, I’ve refused to let my circumstances define me. Fuck being an orphan, or poor, or the Collateral’s lady-in-waiting. Fuck being a victim. Fuck navel-gazing and wallowing in my wretchedness. And then I met Ana. Who’s an orphan and a hybrid. She’s everything that I used to be. And the compassion I’ve never been able to extend to myself overflows whenever I think about her.

The thing about Koen: He is an asshole, but a reasonable one. Which means that the more unhinged his threats become, the less believable they sound. And the stronger my impulse to just laugh in his face. “But what about the martyr character arc I’ve always wanted?” “Not on my watch. Not in my territory. Not under my protection.”

“What’s happening here has very little to do with loving or liking, Serena.” “What does it have to do with, then?” A beat. His lips curve. “Really?” I stare at him, stumped. “Oh, killer. I’m happy to spell it out for you, if you need me to.” “I do need you to. Like I’m five, preferably.” “Not sure I can make it anything under NC-17.” “What do you—ooh.” My cheeks flood with heat.

“Oh, you might as well call me Octavia, dear.” She crossed her arms delicately. “It’s only fair since my son is trying his best to stuff you into his pocket.”

She couldn’t keep a dreamy sigh from escaping. “I’ve sort of made young adult literature my specialty.” “Why?” She shrugged. “I lived inside of those books growing up. I want to take care of them, the way they took care of me.”

But I know better than to forbid her anything. That only makes her want it more. She’s made a habit of disobeying me since the day we met, pushing every limit, testing every boundary, unravelling me in ways no one else ever could. And maybe that’s why I can’t fucking breathe without her anymore.

Dante holsters his weapon then takes a step toward Luka. I place a hand flat against his chest before he can move, anchoring him where he stands. He looks at me, and stops. Then his gaze narrows, cutting toward the boy. “If you must know,” he says, eyes fixed on Luka before sweeping slowly across the terrace, “I had more important matters to attend.” His gaze returns to me. “My wife was my only priority.”

Harlow became my entire fucking world. And I’m man enough to admit it. She’s my queen. The pulse in my veins. The breath in my lungs. The only thing that reminds me I’m still alive.

The words strike ringing in my skull. “Is she going to be all right?” I ask, each word pushed through clenched teeth. She has to be. There is no alternative. I won’t allow one. If she thinks she can simply slip away from me now, she’s sorely mistaken. I’ll fight heaven. I’ll drag her back from hell if I must. But she’s staying. Even if I have to wage war against the universe itself... She. Is. Staying.

I slide back into bed. She barely has the strength to move, but when I wrap my arm around her waist and haul her against my chest, she nuzzles into my neck, inhaling deeply. A satisfied, sleepy sound escapes her lips… my voice a dark whisper against her temple. “Sleep, Leonessa. But know this…” I press a kiss to her hair, my voice dropping lower, more possessive. “I’m never fucking done with you.”

The ride to the event is swept in silence… Dante’s hand resting possessively on my thigh, a silent declaration of ownership. By the time we arrive, a hush falls over the room as we step inside. All eyes turn toward us. Dante pulls me closer, his grip firm. He does not take kindly to others admiring what belongs to him. I suppress a smirk, relishing in his silent, simmering jealousy. Let him seethe.

“I understand. It’s just that one of the purchases was… a company—” “Approve everything.” I cut her off, my tone icily final. “And don’t ever presume to question my wife again.” I end the call before she can say anything else. But I do find myself very intrigued. A smirk pulls at my lips. What the fuck have you done now, wife?

I turn my attention back to Harlow… Not a flicker of emotion crosses her face. “Didn’t expect all that attention, did you?” My voice is low, edged with amusement. She exhales. “Not exactly.” I smirk. “Get used to it, leonessa. You’re not just anyone anymore.” Her gaze lifts to mine, cool and steady. “I never was.” And that’s what I like about her. She doesn’t bend. She doesn’t break.

I blink, caught off guard by the sharpness in his tone. “As you wish.” I say simply. Mattia falters for just a second before grabbing his bags and stepping out. As the car pulls away, I watch him disappear into the building. Something stirs in my chest. A strange, unfamiliar ache. I don’t understand it. But I do know one thing. That little boy just did something to me, and I don’t know how to make it stop.

I don’t miss the flicker in his eyes, something possessive. Its weight steals the air from my lungs. I inhale sharply, unprepared for the intensity of his stare, for the way it claims me without a single word.

A chuckle escapes me. She has a sharp tongue. The sound draws both their attention, but I remain at ease, leaning back, my gaze settling on her with quiet amusement.

Because I want him, and he wants me too, and it’s clear neither of us is happy about it.

I’d be lying if I said his demeanor wasn’t as intriguing as his looks are. A poetic soldier. Who would’ve known one could exist. For some reason that thought makes me somber. My eyes return to his papers, wondering what a man like him has to write about. He chuckles, staring at me… “Those who dance frequently with death tend to have a fondness for dark literature. Are you not so different?”

“Stay the fuck away from me,” she snarls viciously. I can’t help but find it adorable. I mean for God’s sake, her hair is pink. She might as well be a little garden snake with a harmless bite. My eyes soften as I take her in, deciding that she’s too lovely to be in a place like this. She’d only get in the way like Titan did. And look what I did to him. I grin hopelessly. “I’ll try.”

He gave me a pleased nod. With another graze on my mask, he reached behind his back and pulled out a long—very long—diamond chain. Before I could ask him what the hell he was doing when I was damn near losing my mind, he removed his finger from the choker and latched one end of the chain to it. A fucking leash. Dominic Park had put a diamond leash on the Crimson Tiger.

I pressed a kiss on the line between his eyebrows. “Dominic… I’ve never felt wary of you. My mind and my body have never, not even for a second, considered you a threat. There is nobody I trust more than you to not only ask for my consent but also give me exactly what I need. Your one kiss was better than all my past experiences combined.” “Fuck, baby. You’re going to be the death of me...”

Her eyes softened with understanding, and slowly, as if she were afraid I’d move away, she reached out her hand toward mine, the one that was resting on my thighs. I sat still, not wanting to spook her but needing to feel her skin against mine. My heart thudded in my chest with the raw need coursing through me, the need to feel her closer, to find that support in her.

“Are you? My friend, Dominic?” My mind screamed a big, fat no. If only she could read my thoughts or feel my cock right now. I turned to her and, with a voice like gravel, said, “Definitely not, Samaira. I’m not your friend. Not even a little bit.” By the blush coating her cheeks and the smile playing on her lips, I’d bet my entire empire on the fact that she really liked not being my friend.

Samaira managed to tame the violent rage bubbling inside me. She looked like she could slam ten guys twice her size with no effort. But when she smiled at me, when she reassured me with that surety in her eyes, she looked like the warmest person to ever exist. She made me want to snuggle her in my arms and absorb all that warmth into me, to melt the bone-chilling guilt that constantly consumed my soul.