Page 45 of Unholy Bonds

“He won’t know what hit him.”

“Don’t come out when he’s here,” I said to her.

“God, you’re fucking overprotective. I know. I’ll make myself scarce,” she said with a huff, and then her annoyed smile faltered, and pain took over once again. Pain was like that unwanted guest who overstayed their welcome. Always there, clinging to us. There was no way to push it out.

“Irene,” I said with a sigh.

“I understand why you’re overprotective. I don’t want to complain, but…” She pressed her fingers against her forehead with a sigh. I bumped my head against her shoulder, making her smile a little.

“I know, but it’s only when you are with me, Irene. I can’t lose you as well. You know I can’t. It’ll destroy me.”

“Anyone could still hurt me, Yara, when I’m away from you,” she said. “I want to… see the world with you. I want to go to the coffee shop with you. I want to tell my friends about you. I want to show the world that I’m not an orphan, that I have a sister who loves me.”

I took in her broken eyes and her desperate smile, and pulled her into a hug, tightening my arms around her. She sniffled.

“I know… we’re not alone. We have each other,” I said, pulling away from her. “You’ll always have me, Re-Re.”

Without another word, she started to clean until the living room was spotless. She carried her books and laptop to her room, and I followed her.

“What I do is dangerous, Re-Re, and if I get caught, I don’t want the world to look in your direction. You’re the only one I want to protect now. I’ll do anything to keep you safe.”

“If you get caught, I’m not going to leave you alone. You know that.” The stubborn glint in her eyes reminded me, once again, of Kat. Kat was usually softer, kinder, but she could also be so fucking headstrong when she wanted.

“I do know that, but don’t. I want you to have only the best things, Irene, and I’m not… that,” I said. “Also, Ryden Sinclair isn’t someone I want to introduce you to, not after knowing what he is.”

“He’s you,” she said and then chuckled. She walked back to the living room and continued to clean. “So, do we leave it out here or…” she said as she leafed through the book that was on the table with a smirk.

It was a dark romance about an unhinged woman and her dragon lover, and the pages were filled with dark, unsettling scenes—unsettling to those with delicate sensibilities.

While I was reading that, my mind had wandered one too many times, envisioning Ryden and myself doing things from the book.

From the way he hesitated when I invited him to my house, I had a feeling that it wouldn’t be easy to lure him into my bed. Something had changed between the café and now.

“Put it back. I have a feeling it won’t offend Mr. Sinclair.”

“You’re playing a dangerous game, Yara,” Irene said, looking at me with a frown. “Are you sure about this? Really sure?”

“I’m sure, Re-Re. Now off you go.” I shooed her away and sank into the couch, my gaze fixated on the grand clock, its massive golden hands chiming the seconds away with precise ticks.

I knew lusting after Ryden Sinclair was a sin, but it was one I couldn’t help but want to commit. I wanted to be used in ways I hadn’t before. I tried to not be tempted by the devil in him, but I couldn’t. The images of him were like a haunting picture, playing over and over in my head.

I wanted this sin. I needed this sin.

And this, I knew, would be the lesser among the many sins I had already committed.

He came when my clock finally settled on seven. The golden twilight had turned into a moody gray, and the shadows cloaked the bright skies with their greedy fingers.

I switched on the lights, and their gleam filled the creases of darkness with a hazy glow.

He wore a black shirt, once again, sleeves rolled up to his elbows, showing off those beautiful serpents wrapped around the blood-red roses. The more I looked at them, the more I wanted to touch them and trace them, until they were engraved in my memory.

“Come in,” I said and found him staring at me and the clingy dress.

It was comfortable, stylish, and yet obscenely provocative. The rayon dress flared around me as I moved, slipping down my body in a soft embrace.

“Your house is beautiful.”

“No, it’s not. It’s big. Too big for one person.”

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