Page 7 of Lords of Ruin: Savage

“You like that?” I ask, my voice taunting, my hands sliding up to cup her breasts, my thumbs brushing over her nipples. She gasps, her back arching as she nods frantically.

“Yes,” she breathes, her voice trembling. “Yes, Cast, please…”

“Please what?” I demand, my voice low and rough. Her eyes meet mine, and I can see the desperation in them, the way she’s teetering on the edge.

“Please don’t stop,” she begs, her voice breaking. And I don’t. I can’t. Not when she’s looking at me like that, not when she’s so fucking close.

I slam her down onto me one last time, my hips snapping up to meet her, and she screams, her body convulsing as she shatters around me. I watch her fall apart, my hands gripping her hips tightly as I follow her over the edge, my own release crashing over me like a tidal wave.

Her body melts against mine, her chest rising and falling as she struggles to steady her breath. I let my hands roam her back, tracing the curve of her spine with slow, deliberate strokes. She shivers under my touch, and I press a soft kiss to her shoulder, lingering there like I can somehow protect her from everything outside this moment.

For a while, there’s only the sound of our breathing, the silence heavy but not uncomfortable. Then, her voice breaks through, soft and filled with the tremble of fragility.

“I missed us,” she whispers, her words muffled against my chest. “I miss...everything. You. Vincent, even Damien. I miss the way we were.”

I freeze for a moment, my hands stilling on her back. “I know, Willow,” I say quietly, my voice rough.

She shifts, propping her chin on my chest so she can look up at me. Her hazel eyes are glassy, her expression open in a way I haven’t seen in years. “Is that why you’re back here? Because I can’t go back home, Cast.”

“No, I have good reason for you to come back home, though.” I tuck a strand of hair behind her ear.

Her eyes narrow on me, a smile on her lips as she rolls her eyes. “Your dick is not an incentive.”

I cup her face, my thumb brushing along her cheek. This part, the truth, is going to tear her apart. But she deserves to know.

“Willow,” I start, my voice low and steady, “your father...he’s dead.”

Her body stiffens against mine, her breath catching in her throat. “What?” she whispers, her voice barely audible.

“He was killed, Willow,” I say, forcing myself to hold her gaze. “And it wasn’t random. It wasn’t an accident. The men who did it will come for you next.”

She pushes herself up, looking at me like I’ve just slapped her. “What the hell are you talking about?”

I sit up, running a hand through my hair. “He was killed. And you’re in danger, Willow. That’s why I’m here.”

She stares at me, disbelief and anger warring in her expression. “You’re telling me this now? After everything—after you—” Her voice cracks as she gestures to the space between us. “How could you… how could youdo thisknowing that?”

“I saw you and I didn’t-,” I say, my voice low and unsteady in a way I haven’t been since high school. “Willow, it will be okay.”

“Okay?” She laughs bitterly, shoving off my chest. “You fucked me, Cast. You didn’t warn me, you didn’t tell me—you just took what you wanted, knowing that my dad…my dad…”

I stand, towering over her, my jaw tight as I meet her fiery gaze. “I won’t apologize for what I did, but I am not lying to you Willow, he is dead, and you need to come home with me.”

Her eyes narrow, her chest heaving with rage. “You think I’m just going to listen to you after this?”

“You don’t have a choice,” I growl. “Get a bag. You’re leaving with me.”

She glares at me, her lips trembling with suppressed fury, but I see the fear creeping in behind her defiance. She knows I’m right, and that pisses her off even more.

“Five minutes,” I add, my voice cold and unyielding. “And don’t make me drag you out of here kicking and screaming.”

4

CAST

Willow’s beensilent for most of the flight, her arms still crossed, gaze fixed out the window like I’m not sitting right across from her. The jet hums softly around us, but the tension between us is louder than anything.

I let it go for a while, but eventually, I can’t resist. I lean forward, resting my elbows on my knees as I look at her. “How long are you planning on pouting,Cariña?Because we’ve got a few more hours, and I’d hate for you to waste all your energy being angry.”

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