Page 79 of Nocturne

I turn, but his grip tightens around my upper arm, holding me in place.

“Let. Go.”

I recognise this voice from me. I recognise the onset of the darkness that would descend before hell breaks loose.

Burke’s anger flares, the petulant child within him surfacing, demanding that he hear a ‘yes’ from me, no matter what.

“No.”

“Disgusting pig!”

I fight in his grip, swatting his other hand away when it comes to holding my waist.

“That’s not what you said as you bled on my cock, baby. I remember your screams; I remember the way your tits bounced as you let me fuck your tight, virgin cunt.”

Disgust.

Disgust washes over me, overwhelming and suffocating. I try to slap him again, but he catches my hand in mid-air. His touch feels like poison, and I’m afraid I might vomit on his expensiveclothes, giving the tabloids a picture they’d love to spread all over Besall.

I wrench my hand free, and he loosens his grip only because something behind me catches his attention.

His scowl transforms into a mask of fear he desperately tries to suppress.

I want to hiss at him that his existence is despicable. Just as I go to,

“Mr Devlin,” he greets, his voice clipped.

I squeeze my eyes shut.

Why?

Why does he have to be here out of all the other places? I was told that he doesn’t step out usually, but everywhere I turn, he is there, catching me in the most humiliating situation imaginable.

I turn away, not wanting to look at him, but my heart betrays me, pounding wildly as my gaze flicks to Zagan. His face is a careful blank as he regards Burke with an arrogant nonchalance. Iblis stands behind him; his expression is unreadable.

I linger by Zagan’s side for a moment longer than I should, waiting for him to defend my honour. He doesn’t. I would like to think that if Nico or Eero were here, they would at least get angry on my behalf.

I wonder when this hope will die.

Why would he stand up for me now? Just because he confronted Kent? Not with Burke—who clearly knows him, considering how easily he reassures Iblis about the private room he arranged fortheir meeting in Soleil. Why would Zagan risk anything for me when Burke could be useful to him?

When will I stop expecting something from people I know won’t give it? The burn of unshed tears stings at the back of my eyes as I force myself to turn away, taking steady steps down the street.

I quickly text Sean, letting him know I left because I wasn’t feeling well. He doesn’t check it, and I can only hope his patient is safe.

I’m relieved that Burke doesn’t follow. A gust of wind bites at my face, reminding me that I left my coat inside the restaurant, but I don’t dare turn back. I couldn’t care less about the cold. The tears spill over, hot and stinging, but what hurts the most isn’t what Burke said. It’s Zagan’s lack of reaction—his indifference feels like a knife twisting in my gut.

I expected something from him. Anything. But I’m left feeling more alone than ever.

Twenty-One

Zagan

Control. Silence. Discipline.

These are the three stringent rules I’ve kept for myself. Even when the voices inside my head raged, growled and scratched their claws inside my head, I did not give up control. I practised it with stern discipline and rigorous handwork to be the best.

My thoughts, my actions—they remain undisturbed by the noise of others. I speak when it benefits me, not when expected. Silence gives power; silence keeps control. There is a reason I sit on the throne amongst the various men Iko had groomed. And the reason is because they lack the ruthless control I have.

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