Chapter 7

LYRA

The sound of birds chirping seeps through my consciousness, light filtering through the gaps in the dark drapes. My nightmare that plagued my sleep comes rushing back at full force, every single realistic moment of it. The men, the blood. The pure fucking carnage of Ryker tearing through their skin, the crimson spread across my own by his rough touch.

My thighs rub together at the memory, intense heat pooling between them. It's not the first time I have dreamt of him, the feeling of his touch lingering on my body for days despite it being a figment of my restful imagination. This time, however, it feels much different. Lifting the covers, I check over my thighs for marks, finding nothing but the silver scars that hash across them and the black tattoos that cover the worst of them.

His touch felt brutal, enough to leave a bruise, but it was just a dream. A very realistic, raw dream. One I wish I could crawl back into, remaining there for the rest of my days, relishing in his touch, his attention.

Slipping out of bed, I'm still in his tee and the clean panties he somehow pulled from nowhere in my size. He hasn't exactly given me a warm welcome, but there are small things that hint at all of this being a fa?ade, something I understand completely. I too have a wall I built brick by brick over the years to keep everyone out.

I pad lightly to the door, cracking it open a touch to peek through the gap. Everything is as it was yesterday. The bowls still sit on the counter, blanket tossed haphazardly over the back of the couch. I expect to find him out there making himself a coffee or something, but he's nowhere to be found.

"No, no, no, no," I plead, walking out into the empty space. Dread starts to pool in my stomach as his words replay in my mind, the tight feeling seeping into my chest, making it nearly impossible to take a breath.

I didn't want you here.

You need to leave tomorrow.

You shouldn't even be here.

Just one night, Lyra.

Dropping to my knees, I let the tears flow freely down my cheeks, my hands wrapping around my throat where his were during my nightmare last night. Sobs wrack through my entire body, my bare knees scraping against the rough wooden floors. The pain is nothing compared to the ache blooming in my chest. He doesn't want me here.

Minutes pass, maybe hours; time has little meaning when I'm feeling this way. The familiar blank haze creeps into my consciousness, keeping me safe in the way only it knows how. My own custom-made emotion block. It will slip again soon; it always does. A faint noise breaks through, the repeated bang becoming louder and louder.

"Lyra! I'm here to take you home," a loud voice booms from outside the cabin, the silhouette of a person becoming clearer in the window beside the door. Quickly wiping my eyes, I stand, a little unsteady. Pins and needles shoot through my feet as I walk, trying to get a closer look through the window. "He said to tell you, you left a heart-shaped necklace in your dresser eight years ago, and it's currently dangling off this door handle. This is information only he could know, provided to me to prove that I'm safe. Clever little shit thought of everything."

Sure enough, a glint of silver shines from a chain just below the handle, twisting from the impact of the fist pounding on the door. The small heart pendant bangs against the wood, swaying the moment the knocking stops. He kept it after all this time.

"I can hear you breathing, can feel the fear from this side of the door. You have ten minutes to come out to the car, or I leave. You have no cell reception, and he isn't coming back anytime soon, so I highly encourage you to come with me. The asshole would leave you here with no food, I have not a doubt in my mind."

The man retreats from the door, his footsteps heavy. I can see him now, folding his hulking frame into the blacked-out SUV. He's dressed in all black, with dark tattoos covering every bit of exposed skin, his face included. The man is utterly terrifying, and Ryker expects me to just hop in the car and go on my merry way?

We got very little sorted out between us last night. After his vile words, he left, slamming the door on his way out. I spent hours trying to calm myself back down, using every breathing technique in the book, but nothing worked. Instead, the heavy flow of tears morphed into a throbbing headache, my eyes becoming more weary from the pain than the time spent trying to relax.

I move to the kitchen, searching for food to see how long I could survive here, knowing he cooked me a meal in here just yesterday, but the cupboards are barren. A few bowls and cups sit on the shelves, but there's not a single crumb of food. The fridge is the same, only a single pitcher of water sitting on the middle shelf.

It wasn't like this last night, enough food there for one person to get through a few days at least. I had a little look when he left me gasping for air against the wall before storming out. The asshole has taken everything of use, leaving me no other option. I starve to death, risk walking through the woods aimlessly, or go with the man waiting in the car outside. Fuck.

Trifling through his drawers, I pull on a pair of sweats way too long for me and a new jumper. The clothes I had on in the woods are nowhere to be found, nothing here but the blood stain on his rug. I contemplate looking a bit more for the gray jumper. It's a crutch of sorts, tethering me to the memory of him.

My hand pauses at the front door, the necklace still swaying from the handle ever so slightly. I catch the shining heart in my palm, flipping it over to see his name engraved on the back, the emotions I pushed down threatening to snake their way back up.

Shoving it into my pocket, I close the door and head toward the back seat of the SUV, my bare feet freezing on the cold, damp ground. Without a word, the man starts driving down the winding path as soon as I close the door, the cabin getting smaller and smaller in the rearview mirror. I try to take in as many details as possible, marks on trees and fallen down logs, etching it into my memory for a time when I can return, if that time ever comes. He says he never wanted me here, that my presence made him uncomfortable, but he came for me. I still don't understand how he found me that night, but he saved me. Again .

We break out of the woods onto a dirt road, lined with pastures on each side, the city peeking out from behind tall hills. I look back to the gap we emerge from, but it's almost invisible, camouflaged with trees surrounding it, as though he made his own track out.

"No questions. I have strict orders. Not even allowed to look in your direction, or he will tear my spine out my ass. Name's Axel. I'm a friend of your brother."

My mouth closes, the question sitting on the tip of my tongue quashed before I even had a chance. The man doesn't turn around at all, his eyes pinned to the road ahead. Within the hour, he pulls up to my apartment building, silently sitting there until I get out of the car.

"Thanks," I mutter, falling out the door and only just managing to catch myself on the handle. He drives off as soon as the door clicks shut, getting lost in the rush-hour traffic before disappearing completely. Couldn't have gotten away quicker if he tried.

As soon as the front door of the apartment swings open, Void comes crashing into me, her tiny claws piercing through the fabric of my pants. Loud mewls fill the silence as she climbs up my body, leaving indents in her path until she reaches my face. My heart warms as she rubs her face under my chin, the purr vibrating through my skin.

I'm hit with the scent of smoke before I see it, the haze in the open-plan living space clinging to the ceiling. Wrapping my arms around the ball of black fluff attached to my chest, I run into the kitchen to make sure nothing is burning. I check every single room of the apartment, and nothing is out of place, no straightener burning the counter or candle left burning. It's just as I had left it, only now it smells as though someone lit a fire in my lounge room.

"What happened here, Void?" I ask, kissing the top of her head. I walk into the bathroom, switching on the faucet to run a bath. When the sadness starts to cling to my thoughts, I like to dip myself into a searing hot tub of water with a wine in hand. Is it a healthy coping mechanism? No. Will it fix absolutely anything in my life? Also no, but it helps to calm the racing thoughts, and I need all the help I can get. My mind is messy enough from the last 24 hours, with minimal time to process what the fuck happened.

I attempt to pull Void from my chest, those little nails hooking themselves in so deep, I need to become some kind of acrobat. Contorting my body, I remove the jumper with her still attached, being careful not to drop her. The poor thing would have been worried about me not being home, considering she has never spent the night alone since I rescued her. Not having any kind of social life has meant my nights are spent snuggled on the couch with her, snacks in one hand and my Kindle in the other.

Carefully placing the armful of material and cat on the bed, I pour myself a glass and get to work on making the little bath potions that leave my skin softer than silk and smelling like heaven. Sometimes you need to do those little things for yourself, and lord knows I need a bit of self-care right now.

Lowering myself into the boiling water, my cool skin melds with the heat, the sting feeling like heaven. Within seconds, I'm letting out small moans as the water pools around my shoulders, getting to work on loosening the tension between the blades. It's no massage, but it helps enough to feel some relief. My head drops back, eyes closing while my fingers toy with the pendant now clasped around my neck.

His words play on repeat in my mind, filled with non-poisonous venom and words he knew were not true. Regardless of what he attempted to get across, he still felt like home. The energy was palpable between us, as it always had been—electric, consuming, like lost puzzle pieces coming together for the first time in years.

He looked at me like he wanted to consume me whole, and I've never felt that before. Ever. Sure, men have made advances over the years, watching me while I sit alone at a bar, making small talk while their gaze is pinned to my chest, desire in their eyes. But nothing like that. Nothing like him.

Then, there's the nightmare, one I'm not entirely sure how to unpack. It felt so fucking real, the way his hands felt on my skin, the pure unbridled hunger as he filled me so completely. That night I left was the one and only experience I have had with the male population, and it was filled with pain and agony.

As if she can sense it, Void jumps up onto the counter beside the bath, her fluffy tail tapping on the white stone. Tears begin to roll down my cheeks, flowing steadily at the memory I keep locked away tight. One my mind has been able to bury well enough to exist, even if only just.

"He left me Void. Again."

Pain punches through my chest while I fight off the sobs threatening to escape. This black hole isn't one I can get lost in again. I barely made it out the other side, willing to lay down and let the beast in the night take me only yesterday. Praying for it to consume me so that the fight could stop.

Until my eyes found his, tortured and scarred but still him: the man I had been searching for, the light in my darkness. But I can feel the shift. Where he used to be my light, helping me through the trenches of the home from hell, there is now something different, more sinister, about him. His presence is more consuming, drawing me in.

My body jolts in the water, sloshing it out of the bath as my phone continues its assault on my ears. The loud ringing pulls me out of the lull enough to get out of the bath, and I drip water all over the floor, almost slipping with every step.

On the opposite side of my bed, I find it hooked up to the charger with my boss' name plastered across the screen. He's lovely, truly, but I don't have the capacity for him right now. Quickly typing a message back to let him know I will be back tomorrow afternoon for my shift, I toss the phone onto the table and fall back onto my bed.

The memory suddenly hits me that my phone, along with all my other belongings, was left at the cemetery. I turn over the sleek, gunmetal gray device I had just tossed down without a second thought, only to find it's a brand-new phone. My old one had a crack through the camera with a screen full of scratches, but this is sleek and new, the film still across the screen. Opening it up, I scroll through to find that my boss' number is the only one saved; everything else is missing. No photos, no apps. Nothing.