Chapter 16
Caspian’s POV
Only Viviane’s voice stops me from racing down the concourse and ripping Ryan away from her like human Velcro. “You’re a good man, you know.”
A good man.
Exactly the opposite of me.
My wolf whines, still wanting to attack the man for putting his hands on our mate. He does not deserve to breathe the same air she does, let alone touch her. Even if Viviane is right, “good” doesn’t mean worthy.
I can’t prevent the shift; I’m too far gone. My body fractures and folds: bones snapping, muscles tearing, skin morphing. In seconds a huge gray wolf stands in my spot, eyes glowing in the reflective glass of the dark windows.
With every ounce of strength I possess, I turn away from Viviane and Ryan, sprinting away in the opposite direction. Even with my wolf in control, I know engaging Ryan would be a mistake. Viviane already thinks there is no good in me, killing her lover probably wouldn’t help change her mind.
I burst from the stadium doors and take off into the woods, pushing my legs as fast and hard as possible. This is precisely why it is so dangerous for mates to deny the soul bond. Once felt, the need to claim each other grows more intense by the hour, pushing wolves to the very brink of madness.
I don’t know how Viviane is resisting it. I’m barely holding it together, so lost in my hunger for her that a simple hug pushed me over the edge.
At the same time, I can’t truly blame her for wanting someone good. Viviane is pure, delicate and sweet. She should have a knight in shining armor, not a villain – and her conversation with Ryan made it clear that’s exactly how she sees me.
All of a sudden my parents’ tragic love story seems much less like a cautionary tale, than a premonition of my own future.
A dull whirring noise silences my reverie, blocking out everything but the vicious wrath slowly consuming me. The red haze is back, only this time I cannot make out my surroundings through the mist. This time, there is only crimson fog, swirling and writhing until the world, and everything in it, disappears completely.
Viviane’s POV
Three boxes, that’s all I need to hold my entire life. They sit, neatly stacked, in the corner of the living room, taunting me as I pack what’s left of my personal belongings.
I can’t believe this is happening.
After chickening out at the stadium and talking with Ryan, I came home to prepare for our departure. I can’t say I’m at peace with the decision – far from it – but I owe my mother this much. I have to trust that she knows what’s best for us, that she's doing what she believes is right.
I’ve reminded myself of these facts a hundred times, and I’ve almost convinced my brain, but my heart is another story. It lies cold and hard in my chest, as if threatening to go on strike if we actually leave Asterion. Still, no matter how distant and numb it seems now, I know the pain will be unbearable when we depart.
When Mom and I discussed the matter I could only speak about school and my plans for the future, all the personal goals leaving would derail. But I’m not thinking of any of that now. Now I think only of Caspian.
I’ll never forget the day he found me at school after Courtney, Madison and Nerissa attacked me. I can still feel his arms around me, the comforting solidity of his body beneath me, the tender caress of his hands. I want nothing more than to be back there now, I want to crawl into his lap and pour out all my troubles for him to soothe away.
I’m so caught up in the impossible fantasy I actually imagine him climbing up my fire escape and crouching outside the window. He reaches out and taps his knuckles against the glass, and I leap ten feet in the air when the very real sound meets my ears.
Oh no.
This is no daydream. He’s here. He’s actually outside my window.
When I don’t move, Caspian deftly pulls the frame up from outside, slipping into the room with the grace of a jungle cat. “You should really lock your windows.” He scolds.
My mouth opens and closes uselessly, “I– What are… why–”
“It’s late, I needed to see you and I didn’t want to wake your mother.” He explains simply, as if he climbs up women’s fire escapes every day. Although knowing Caspian, he might. Before I can think of another question, his piercing gaze scans the room, taking in the barren furnishings and half-filled boxes.
Flames lick up my arms when his eyes finally return to me. My knees start to buckle, and though I’m not a shifter, I feel the inexplicable urge to roll over and expose my belly. My head whips toward the door, then the window, but he’s blocking them both.
“Nowhere to run this time, kitten.” Caspian growls. If I thought I’d seen Caspian angry before, I was sorely mistaken. The brutal ire he exudes now is unlike anything I’ve ever seen. “Start talking.”
My shoulder blades collide with the wall, though he hasn’t moved an inch. “I can explain.”
“Oh I’m counting on it.” The muscle in his temple ticks threateningly. “Though If I were you, I’d choose your words very carefully.”
Why in the Gods' names did I say I could explain. “I’m moving?”
A low rumble vibrates in his chest, and gooseflesh erupts on my arms. “Try again.”
My palms scrabble for purchase on the wall behind me, “I don’t have a choice, my mother says we have to go.”
Caspian’s eyes narrow to slits. “And did your mother order you not to tell me?”
“N–no…” I confess shakily, “not specifically.”
“So you were going to leave without saying a word?” He demands, crossing his arms over his chest.
“I wanted to tell you,” Panic sets in as my eyes begin to burn. “I came to the stadium today to tell you but I–”
“Got distracted saying goodbye to Ryan?” Caspian interrupts harshly.
“What?” How does he know about that? “No. I just ran into him on my way out, we’re lab partners.”
It’s as if he doesn’t even hear me. “Oh yeah, do you hug all your lab partners like that?”
“It isn’t like that!” I insist. “Ryan hugs everybody.”
Caspian is across the room before I can blink, his powerful hands lashing out and dragging my body against his. “Well you don’t!” He thunders, “Do you understand me? The only person you’re going to be touching from here on out, is me!”
His mouth slams into mine so forcefully I stumble, grabbing onto his shoulders to remain upright even as I try to shove him away. Caspian lifts my feet off the floor, preventing me from grounding my resistance and sending my legs kicking against his. He coils his arms around my body as he steals long, deep kisses from my lips, ruthlessly claiming my mouth over and over until I’m gasping for air.
My splayed hands push against his shoulders, flashbacks of Mordred’s attack warring against reality. This feels nothing like the rape emotionally, yet my psyche recognizes the sensation of a powerful male body moving against my own with primal fear.
I try to wriggle out of Caspian’s grip without success, feeling as if I’m trapped beneath a boulder. He nips my full bottom lip in reproach, sliding his tongue into my mouth when they part in surprise. I still instantly, whimpering as he slants his mouth over mine, deepening the kiss. The room begins to spin as heat pools low in my belly, shocking my system with a fresh jolt of alarm.
Caspian is making my body do things I don’t understand, arousing sensations that feel incredible and forbidden all at once. Part of me doesn’t want him to stop, wants to see where these strange feelings will take me.
Another part – a larger part – is painfully aware that I am no longer in control. Caspian isn’t just touching me physically: he’s forcing my body to react, to respond, for pleasure to overwhelm my thoughts and make me forget what’s truly important.
He tangles one fist in my long hair, his rigid muscles pressing into my soft curves with increasing strength. His free hand kneads my lower back, attempting to soothe the maelstrom of fear consuming me, but failing. It’s all too much.
I can’t stop seeing Mordred on top of me, my mind almost convinces itself I’m smelling his vile cologne instead of Caspian’s heady, masculine scent. Yet unlike when Mordred raped me, I’m not in pain; I’m not miserable and heartbroken. This time I like it, and that feels so disgusting and wrong I want to vomit.
Before I can stop them, before I even realize they’re falling, tears slip from my eyelashes. At first Caspian doesn’t notice anything is amiss, trailing tender kisses over my salt stained cheeks as if he understands no words can soothe these feelings.
However after the tears leave my skin they transform, and pearls clatter to the floor in an unmistakable and unignorable cascade.
