Page 5 of Lords of Ruin: Savage

The voicemail notification still glows on my phone like a taunt, even as I juggle the phone in my hand. Six numbers. Six new beginnings. Each one shattered by his persistence.

I shouldn’t listen. I should delete it, move on. But my finger hovers over the play button, my heart pounding.

The first message from a year ago plays, his voice soft, almost tender. “Willow… I love you. You know that, don’t you? I don’t know why you’re doing this. I don’t know why you think you need to run, but… please, just call me back. We can fix this. I’ll do whatever it takes.”

I clench my fists, his words wrapping around my chest like a vice. My thumb hovers over the delete button, but I can’t bring myself to press it.

The second voicemail from eight months ago starts, more urgent this time. “Willow, I’ve been trying to reach you for weeks. I know what you said, but please, I need to hear your voice. Tell me you’re okay. Please.”

The air feels colder as I walk, the faint buzz of campus celebrations drifting in the distance. My steps quicken, unease prickling at the back of my neck. My pulse quickens. I glance over my shoulder, but the street is empty except for the faint glow of streetlights and the occasional rustle of leaves.

He sounds desperate, on the edge of breaking, but I know better than to trust the vulnerability. He always knows how to pull me in, like my own personal siren to my death.

The third message from a few weeks ago, cuts through my thoughts like a blade. His voice is sharp now, each word dripping with anger. “You think you can just run away from me? Fromus? That’s not how this works, Willow. You’re mine. You always willbe. And if you won’t come back, I’ll drag you back here, Willow— because you belong here.”

A shiver runs down my spine. My hand trembles as I pause the message, the air suddenly feeling too thick to breathe.

By the time I reach my apartment building, my heart is pounding. I fumble with my keys, the sharp click of the lock echoing in the silence. The familiar scent of old wood and fresh paint greets me as I step inside, but it does little to calm the unease coiled tightly in my chest.

I close my eyes, leaning my head against the cool surface of the door. They’re better off without me. All of them. They deserve someone who isn’t broken, someone who doesn’t make them so vulnerable. I kick off my shoes, followed by pulling off my socks as I glance back down at the phone, that unknown number still staring at me, daring me to call back.

But I can’t. I won’t. They need to move on. I need to move on. I toss my shoes next to my door, and throw my socks onto my couch, followed by my hoodie.

I delete the voicemail messages.

I delete the call.

"Okay, delete ex-boyfriend’s voicemails—check," I mutter. "Now for wine and a bath to drown in my sorrows." I can already picture the steam easing the tightness in my chest as I slide off my leggings and make my way to the bathroom, but then it hits me.

Wood, paint, ash and whiskey.

My breath catches in my throat, and my heart skips a beat. The scent is unmistakable, thick and rich, like smoke clinging to theair. For a long moment, I just stand there, my mind spinning, trying to convince myself that I’m imagining things. But I know I’m not.

I slowly turn the doorknob, and as soon as I push it open, there he is.

Cast.

Sprawled across my bed like he owns it, his presence overwhelming the small room. His striking green eyes catch mine immediately, an almost predatory hunger flickering in them. He lounges against the headboard, one arm slung lazily across the pillows, a smirk playing on his lips. He looks like he’s been waiting for me.

I gasp, and the sound rips from my throat before I can stop it. My pulse kicks into overdrive, and my stomach twists into a hard knot of panic. What the hell is he doing here? How did he even?—?

His voice is low, smooth, with that dangerous, playful tone curling around every word, like a tease.

“You know, Willow,” he drawls. His eyes rake over me, the intensity that sends sparks across my skin. “I thought we got rid of your ignoring problem, maybe a spanking would help that?”

3

CAST

“Cast!”She gasps, her eyes wide and body on full display for me, and fuck me, I’ve missed her like this. Bare and screaming my name. I mean I can do without the black lace bra and matching thong but it’s like she knew I was coming.

“Cariña, do you just walk around your house like this all the time?” I tease, sliding my arms behind my head, and licking my lips at her curves.

She places both hands on her hips, and scowls at me. “Cast, what are you doing here?” She questions, her eyes narrowed and the slither of joy she allowed herself to show is long gone as she stares at me with palpable anger.

I yawn, only to irritate her more—which it does—and she scrunches her nose in annoyance. “Come sit on my lap.”

“Cast-” she huffs, but I cut her off.

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