Page 98 of Saint

Water.

All around me is water. My lungs burn, desperate for air when they can’t find it. My feet scrape dirt, and I manage to dig my toes in just enough to push off the bottom of the lake. Just enough to send me to the surface.

The second my head bobs free, I gulp for the air I crave. I flail around and try to float, but flowers on the surface splash into my mouth and try to choke me.

“Careful, kitten. You don’t want to join him.”

Saint’s voice would be a relief if I didn’t already know why he’s here.

“Join who?”

But Saint doesn’t answer, chuckling instead. He releases a breath of amusement that vibrates through the air.

Saint leans forward, and time blinks. We’re no longer in the center of the lake—we’re at the shore, where the water is splashing around my waist. And he watches me through neon blue Xs.

“Again.” Saint tips me back and pushes me under the water once more.

His fingernails dig into my scalp as I flail and fight him. My nails claw at his wrists, and I’m kicking him in the shins. But there’s no use. The water takes any strength I have. A weight settles over me as my lungs burn, and the pressure behind my eyes makes them feel on the verge of exploding.

He wins each time.

Deprives me of air—of myself.

But right when I think he’ll let me fail, he grabs my shoulders and pulls me up. He drags me to the shore and lays me in the dirt under him.

I blink water out of my eyes. I’m like a stone thrown in the ocean...

Skipping.

Skipping.

But I can’t skip forever. At some point, I’ll go down.

“Violet.” My name is a whisper from his lips, and it echoes through the entire forest.

One word and my name might as well be a part of this test. This game we haven’t stopped playing, and he’s yet to explain to me how it ends.

He presses over me, shoving my dress up to my hips as I dig my heels into the dirt. The weight of his body spreads my knees wider.

Or maybe it’s a reaction to the electrical current that runs between us. Humming through my wet skin and making me desperate for him.

I need the pulse only he elicits. The one that stops my heart and gets it going again. His fingers shove my panties aside, and he thrusts so deep it hurts.

So fast, I’m at a loss for breath.

For words.

I tip my head back, and he takes me like I need him to. He pulls me from the lake and replaces the water in my lungs with air, and then the air with him.

He fucks me, and I watch the ripples of water on an upside-down lake.

He fucks me, and I watch the winter-blue flowers float across it.

He fucks me, and I stare into the empty sockets of the skull sitting on the shore.

He pulls me under.

My phone pings, and my eyes fly open. The back of my neck is drenched in sweat as I blink myself awake. Gripping my sheet, I try to distinguish shadows from dreams. Life from death. Wrong from right.

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