Page 13 of Bound By Ruin

“I’ve got him,” Rage assures me, nodding. “We’ll get him settled in.”

“I’ll be waiting,” Ruin murmurs, his wide eyes peering into my soul. An electric tingle rolls down my spine at the intensity of his gaze. The warm glow from the hallway light turns the scars on his cheek a deep orange, but the white bandages trailing down his neck and chest glow like the flames I thought we’d left behind.

I still don’t know where the two of us stand. His obsession with knives—with finding my soul—with the way his fingers dip between my thighs—all feel distant when I barely recognize the man standing in front of me. I know that despite the drastic change in his appearance without the mask, nothing has really changed between us. It’s still Ruin staring at me, like he always does.

But something feels different this time, and it has nothing to do with the scars etched into his body.

“I’ll be there soon,” I promise, giving him a small smile. “I promise.”

Thanatos tugs my arm, finally pulling me free from their gravity.

Walking away from the boys to follow Thanatos feels like a fever dream. In another reality, after everything we’ve been through, I’m sure that it’s the last thing I would ever do. But inthislife, I’m thrust into a kind of chaos that I can’t wish away. Thanatos understands that chaos on a level I can’t fathom, so following him across the hall feels like the next step in understanding the darkness pervading these men’s lives… the first step having long since passed unawares.

When did my journey begin? Was it the moment I accepted my invitation toMidnightand gave my body away for a moment’s reprieve from the pain of unending heartbreak? Or was it when Rage first saw me at the Baranova wedding and suddenly decided that I was his new favorite obsession?

I stretch my fingers and swallow hard, the memory of Rage’s throat in my hands burning in the depths of my mind. I squeezed as hard as I could, and the man smiled at me before passing out. That could have been the moment I unwittingly sealed my fate to these men—by taking a piece of their darkness and claiming it as my own.

In the end, where the journey began doesn’t matter.

It’s how the journey ends that’s important.

I won’t let another arrogant piece of shit determine my fate, no matter whose father he claims to be. From what the brothers have told me, he wasn’t much of a father at all. Just a sperm donor who stuck around way longer than was welcome.

Thanatos unlocks an unmarked door on the same hallway as the brothers’ apartment. Recessed lighting outlines the perimeter of the room and reveals a single panel of chain-link fence directly in front of us, sectioning off the entryway from the rest of the room. Behind a locked gate lies dozens and dozens of weapons ranging from serrated hunting knives to metal baseball bats and gleaming handguns, all neatly organized, with ammo boxes and larger rifles and shotguns stacked waist-high on the floor.

“I should have known you’d have an armory,” I murmur, quickly memorizing the code Thanatos puts into the electric lock. He scans his palm, too, just like the brothers do for all the other doors on the second floor. The lockclicksopen, and he swings the gate wide enough for me to step through. I nod toward the chain-link fence. “Someone could easily cut that.”

Grunting, Thanatos grabs a pair of gloves sitting on top of an open box of ammo, puts them on, and closes the gate behind us. Once it clicks into place, a low hum fills the room with a buzzing sound, and the hairs on my arms stand on end. He reaches out and grabs the fence, and a spark of electricityzapshis gloved fingers. Lifting an eyebrow at me, he releases the metal fence then shucks the gloves, tossing them onto a cardboard box.

“It’s electrified,” he explains after a moment. “If someone tries to cut the fence, they’ll get one hell of a jolt.”

“You could have said that instead of putting on a show.” Rolling my eyes, I shoulder past him toward the weapons on display. I haven’t the faintest idea which one I should grab—or if we’re here not just for me, but for all of us. “Does everyone have a favorite?” I eye the knives, wondering if they’ve all been used before. They gleam in the light, looking sharp and dangerous as hell. Each one has a leather sheath strapped to its side.

I can’t imagine wearing one of those on my belt.

Glancing at the guns, I bite my bottom lip. Hell, I can’t imagine wearing one ofthose, either.Shuffling toward the baseball bats, I notice that a few of them are dented and worn, and a heavy metal crowbar lays discarded on the silver counter beneath them. A dried, flaky brown substance has chipped off, dusting the metal surface like rust. I try to keep a poker face.

Ireallydon’t want to know what happened.

“Those are Rebel’s.” Thanatos comes up behind me and pulls one of the most worn bats from the wall. He swings it underhanded toward his elbow, making awhooshingsound as it whirls through the air. “This one’s seen a lot of damage. It’s unbalanced. Heavier at the top.” As he places the bat back onto the prongs along the wall, I try not to picture it swinging into someone’s temple and bashing their skull in.

I fail miserably.

Shivering, I wrap my arms around my middle. “I didn’t think he was a fighter.” Maybe that’s stupid of me, but out of the four of them, he seems the most like a lover.

Thanatos meets my eyes. There’s no pity or annoyance, only truth. “We all are, Princess. We have to be, or we won’t survive.” He grabs a knife and places it in my palm. “I’ve taught you the basics of unarmed self-defense. We need to practice what to do when you have a weapon. Let’s start with knives, and then we’ll move up to guns.”

“Aren’t guns more practical?”

“They’re faster,” he admits, looking away from me to stare at a wall of pistols. “But if you miss, you’re fucked. A knife is more intimate than a gun and harder to knock out of your hand. After seeing what my dad’s doing to the other girls—” His teeth clench. “Let’s just say, he won’t want to make this a clean death. Guns are pretty clean overall. Knives aren’t. Bats and other blunt objects are the best for prolonging a victim’s pain, but he doesn’t have the stamina for them, and none of the victims showed signs of blunt force trauma. They were all carved first, then burned.”

My stomach churns. “That’s—that’s what he wants to do to me?”

Exhaling slowly, Thanatos sinks lower as his shoulders slump. He leans closer to me, refilling his lungs the same moment I do. The echoes of smoke and flame overwhelm my senses, starting with the grit on my teeth and quickly advancing to the unexpected heat burning my lungs. He draws a breath as he wraps his hands around mine, closing my fingers over the handle of the knife. “I don’t know what he wants to do with you, Celia, but I know it won’t be pretty. If he gets a hold of you, it’s going to hurt. A lot.” Pulling my hands closer to his body, he aims the sharp edge of the knife at a soft spot on his side. The serration catches on his t-shirt and tears a small hole in the fabric. “You need to gut him before he can hurt you. Right here,” he says, holding the knife to his body, “or here.”

As Thanatos shows me every weak spot on the male body, I pay close attention to remember every detail. It’s not just my life at stake—but Ruin’s, too. And although Rage may claim that Ruin is a fighter, he’s clearly hurting from his injuries.

What I fear the most aren’t the burns, though—it’s the damage hidden underneath.

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