Page 68 of Of Daggers and Deceit

“I’m sorry, I didn’t use any body wash for the shower. I was so focused on trying to feel better that I mainly just sat on the ledge for the heat and steam.”

He paused, assessing me as I awaited his next move.

He stubbed the rest of his cigarette out in the ash tray, the glow of it snuffed out as I felt him shift back towards me.

“We need to fix that.” It was a demand I met eagerly, because I dared not ruffle his feathers anymore, even though, when I merged his lips with mine, my eyes fluttered shut, and I saw blue eyes, dimples, and dark hair.

Though my stomach rolled, I kissed Zander with fervour, meeting every stroke of his tongue with my own. I knew he was marking me with his scent, reclaiming me to comfort himself. My only job now was to reassure him.

When he pulled away, I felt his satisfied smile against my lips.

“Can I take you to bed?” he murmured.

I nodded, my forehead brushing against his as I wrapped my arms around his neck, knowing he would carry me there himself.

He lifted me with an arm hooked under my legs, the other around my back as I clung to him, my head resting against his chest as he walked us back to my room, placing me softly against my mattress.

He lingered for a moment, caressing my cheek, the most tender I’d ever seen him.

“Rest, my Rose, and I will see you in the morning.” A brief kiss followed, just beneath my right eye.

He quietly left the room, and I listened for his telltale footsteps down the hall before he slipped back into his room, shutting the door with a snick.

If only he knew what I had really been up to tonight. I breathed out in relief. That was close. Too close, but I survived it. I had to hold out hope that Raya would never do something stupid to jeopardise us both.

Because now, I held another little secret.

A secret that was sure to create carnage in the days to come. A secret sure to end in death.

RAYA

I’d lay awake for the rest of the night. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw the Benefactor’s face, watching as he choked, his breath pungent and rotten as he took his last breaths. The light faded from his eyes, the glint of the gold from the two weapons around my wrist antagonising me.

Murderer.

That’s what they’d label me if Zander ever found out. I resented it, resented him for everything that had occurred. Had I killed a Dominant, I’d be labelled a hero. Life always found a way to be cruel.

I picked at the cuffs on my wrist again in my anger, as I’d been doing since I’d left Bodhi’s room in the early hours of the morning to attempt to remove the incriminating jewellery adorning my wrists. At times, I’d yanked and pulled at the clasp with such force, I thought my wrist would snap, but it didn’t budge. I’d tried sliding them off, but they remained fastened—to what, I didn’t know.

I’d come up with a single last option, one I didn’t truly want to do, because they were a gift from my father, the only thing left of him. But I knew I had to remove them, no matter what.

Mine and Riley’s lives depended on it if I couldn’t sort this out. My plan required more time, and removing the cuffs was the only way I could ensure it.

Some would call this a stupid idea, the risk of injury high, but I would rather deal with broken arms than wear these and almost guarantee my death.

I raised the hammer high above my head, my left wrist resting casually on the table as I inhaled a full breath, my eyes locked onto the seemingly bland cuff at my wrist.

With all my strength, I brought it down hard, directly onto the cuff with a loud clang. The wrist carrying the hammer jarred slightly when the cuff beneath it didn’t even dent.

Fuck.

I tossed the hammer onto my bed away from me as I began to drag in quick, short breaths, panic gripping me more fiercely than I’d ever experienced in my life.

I slammed my hands onto the table, closing my eyes, trying to focus on my breathing and get it under control again. Movement on my wrists caused my eyes to flick open, watching in horror as the gold liquified to move up towards my palm. I jerked away, shaking my hands frantically in front of me.

“No, no, no.” The gold wrapped faster, like running water. The more I shook, the more my distress heightened, that familiar shape of the dagger slowly formed in my palm as I refused to clamp my fingers around it.

But it didn’t matter; the dagger formed and stuck against my hand like a magnet. I held my hands out in front of me, the blade pointing away from me. Could this hurt me?

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