34. Lena

34

LENA

I jolt awake, my head fuzzy with fragments of memories that feel like a nightmare. The bedroom is pristine—no blood, no signs of struggle. Nothing to confirm the violent scene from last night.

“Did I dream it all?” I whisper to myself, running my fingers through my tangled hair. The sheets beside me are cold and empty. No trace of Talon.

My heart pounds as I scan the room. Everything looks normal—too normal. The picture frames still hang straight on the walls, and David’s clothes still lie scattered across the floor where he left them.

David. My stomach lurches as fragments of last night flash through my mind—his cruel grip, the masked figure, the knife...

The bedroom door swings open with a creak. I gasp, pulling the sheets up to my chin as Talon appears in the doorway. His presence fills the room, dark and intense.

“You’re really here,” I breathe. “Last night... it wasn’t a dream?”

“No dream.” His voice is low and controlled.

“What—” My voice cracks. I clear my throat and try again. “What am I supposed to do? People will ask questions. The police... his family... How do I explain David’s disappearance?”

Talon steps closer, his blue eyes boring into mine. “You don’t explain anything. You’re the grieving fiancée who has no idea where he went. He was acting strange lately, distant. Maybe the pressure of graduation got to him. Maybe he needed space.”

“But—”

“The less you know, the more genuine your reactions will be.” He perches on the edge of the bed. “Trust me, Lena. I’ve taken care of everything. No one will ever find him.”

A shiver runs through me at his words. I should be terrified. I should be running. Instead, I reach for his hand, craving his dark comfort.

I stare at Talon’s hand, his touch comforting and dangerous. His thumb traces circles on my palm, but his words slice through the quiet morning air.

“Who’s next, baby? Mr. Wilson, perhaps?” His eyes darken with an intensity that makes my breath catch. “He hurt you. Made you feel worthless. Don’t you want him gone too?”

My stomach churns at the mention of our foster father. Years of abuse flash through my mind—the bruises, the cruel words, the way he’d drink himself into violent rages.And his violation, worse than David’s, occurred twice after Talon was gone.

“I—” The words stick in my throat. Part of me wants to say yes, to watch Mr. Wilson suffer like he made us suffer. But another part remembers how it felt when Talon left before. The emptiness. The abandonment. “What if something goes wrong? What if they catch you?”

Talon’s grip tightens. “No one will catch me. I’m careful. Methodical.” His free hand cups my cheek, forcing me to meet his gaze. “Don’t you trust me?”

“Of course I do,” I lean into his touch. “But I can’t lose you again. The last time you disappeared...” Tears burn behind my eyes. “Eight months, Talon. It felt like an eternity.”

“That was different. I was protecting you then.” His thumb wipes away a tear that escapes. “Now I’m strong enough to keep you safe. To eliminate anyone who ever hurt you.”

“Please. Not yet. I just got you back.” My fingers clutch his shirt. “Can’t we just... be together for a while? Figure out what this is between us?”

His jaw clenches, and that familiar darkness swirls in his eyes. I can see the battle raging inside him—the need to hurt, to destroy, warring with his desire to give me what I want.

“For now,” he finally growls. “But he’ll pay eventually. They all will.”

I push away the memories of David, of last night’s violence. My heart hammers as I look up into Talon’s stormy eyes. I can’t bear the thought of losing him again, tugging him close. His solid body presses against mine. His lips find mine, fierce and urgent. The kiss is a spark that ignites the smoldering heat between us. And he lifts me as if I weigh nothing. My legs wrap around his waist, instinctively opening for him.

The wall behind me bites into my skin as he pushes me against it. Talon’s mouth trails down my neck, his teeth nipping at the sensitive skin, claiming me. I arch against him, craving more.

“You’re mine,” he growls, his breath hot against my ear.

“Yes,” I whisper, surrendering to the wildness within me. I’ve locked these desires away for so long, afraid to unleash them. But with Talon, I can embrace the dark, erotic impulses that surge between us.

His need for me is as raw and urgent as my own. My hands explore his back, his shoulders, and the scars that mark him. We’re both scarred, damaged by our pasts. But in this moment, we’re connected, vibrant, and alive.

Talon lines himself up and thrusts into me, filling me completely. I gasp, my head falling back against the wall. The friction of his body against mine sends sparks of pleasure through me. It’s primal, intense, and so different from my imagined fantasies.

He sets a relentless pace, his gaze never leaving mine. His eyes reflect the same pleasure and torment I feel, and we have an unspoken understanding.

“Look at me, baby,” he grunts. “I want to see your eyes when I make you come.”

I’m consumed by the raw passion of the moment, the feral heat in his eyes. His body perfectly syncs with mine as if we’re two halves of a whole, finally reunited.

The tension coils tighter and tighter within me, a building pressure seeking release. Talon’s thrusts grow harder, faster, pushing me closer to the edge. He knows exactly what I need, how to drive me wild. His hands grip my thighs, lifting me higher, driving deeper.

Our eyes lock, and I see the moment the pleasure overtakes him. His back arches, his breath catching. “Lena,” he groans, and I feel his release, triggering my own climax. My body pulses around him, waves of pleasure washing over me.

For a moment, we stay connected, our breathing heavy. His forehead rests against mine, our sweat-dampened skin sticking together. Then he gently lowers me to the ground, his eyes shining fiercely.