"We''ve been through life and death together-now we''re bound, for better or worse."
M froze.
Teenagers always had a knack for saying the most unexpected things. Yet M found herself swept up by his wild, exuberant spirit, unable to resist its infectious energy. Fighting off a pounding headache, she slowly got to her feet, raised her right hand in a fist, and lightly tapped her arm against his. She couldn''t help but smile.
"Yes," she said softly.
"Partners for life!" he dered.
They were bonded-survivors together.
That strange, electric connection-the collision of two souls-cleared away the heavy fog in M''s heart. In its ce, a rush of fierce, vivid emotion surged through her, setting her nerves alight.
Adrenaline. Camaraderie. A sense of belonging...
Maybe all of it at once.
But none of that mattered now. They stood together in the middle of nowhere, rainshing down outside, no rescue in sight, their supplies ruined-utterly alone and desperate.
And yet they wereughing.
Laughing out loud.
For a single, zing moment, their souls vibrated in unison-the very force of life roaring through them.
Maybe it was that intensity—those wild, crashing emotions—but M''s headache finally overwhelmed her. Searing pain split her skull; everything went ck, and she copsed.
As she fell,
she thought she heard something echoing in her mind... was that a woman crying?
A remote country house.
Inside a windowless, dimly lit bedroom, a singlerge bed stood in the center. The covers were bunched tightly around a slender, beautiful girl, her long ck hair spread across the soft pillows.
She was restless. Tears glittered at the corners of her eyes, her brows knotted in distress, and before long, a nightmare wrenched her awake.
She gasped for air.
Wearing a white silk dress, she pushed herself upright, and a faint metallic rattle sounded as she moved. Looking down, she saw the delicate gold cuff locked around her pale ankle-a thin chain trailing from it to the base of the bed. Every movement made it chime softly.
M''s steps were unsteady as she made her way toward the bathroom.
The chain was custom-made-just long enough to let her move around a portion of the suite, but never out of the room.
She sshed cold water on her face and stared at her own pale, striking reflection in the mirror, a bitter smile tugging at her lips.
Ever since that chaotic night, she''d woken up here. It had been over a week. Her phone was gone. She couldn''t contact anyone.
The only person she saw was Lysander.
It hadn''t always been this bad. But after she''d fought to escape the first night, she''d woken to find herself locked in, not even allowed out of her room. She couldn''t begin to guess what was going through Lysander''s head.
Lost in thought, M suddenly noticed a figure appear in the mirror. Before she could react, strong hands pinned her against the sink.
"You''re awake."
His voice was husky, words brushing hot against her ear.
Even after all these days-sharing a bed every night-M still hadn''t grown used
to his touch. Instinctively, she tried to push him away, arms bent defensively.
But he scooped her up by the waist, setting her on the counter.
Lysander pulled her into his arms, raining soft, burning kisses along her cheek and lips.
She stifled a sound.
Her back pressed against the mirror, jostling the faucet; hot water gushed out, and soon steam filled the bathroom, fogging the ss.
Heat swirled around them.
Since that chaotic night, he''d lost all control-utterly relentless, whether he was lucid or not.
No matter how much time passed, he never seemed to tire.
Lysander gazed at M''s flushed face, made even more beautiful by the steam, and felt his longing deepen.
Her eyes shimmered, drawing him in without a word.
As she drifted, his voice rasped against her ear-low, almost pleading, as if confessing some desperate need:
"Do you love me?"
Shock snapped M out of her trance.
Eyes bright with anger, she gripped his broad shoulder, leaned in, and bit down hard on his ear. Blood welled at the corner of his lips, her fury burning in every drop.
"I hate you!" she spat.