Page 89 of Filthy Royal

And no, because she’d watched the marks fade from her wrists and throat until, two planetary rotations after Damien’s departure, they’d vanished altogether, as if they’d never been. Unlike the scars he’d left on her soul.

Still, she’d always wondered whether they’d return if she ever saw him again.

Now she had her answer.

Her actions had changed everything.

There was no going back. The lack of markings drove that message home loud and clear. The lust might remain, but he was no longer her fated mate.

She was merely someone from his past. Someone he now hated.

Breathing grew difficult, the weight on her chest as heavy as an anvil, the loss as vast and bleak as the desolation of starless space.

It felt like a death.

But she’d grieve later, lick her wounds in private. Now she had to do what she always did: find a way to save those she loved. “Why am I here?”

“I ask the fucking questions. Not you.”

Damien was right. He had changed.

He was harder, and not just on the outside, though he was definitely more muscular. There was a new scar on his eyebrow and another at his lip.

Unfortunately, his impact on her—the way he burrowed beneath her skin like a wild, seething storm—hadn’t altered, despite the fact that they were no longer fated mates. In fact, he’d only grown sexier.

Even now, the darkness inside her strained toward him like greedy, grasping fingers as if he were the fuel that would ignite the powder keg and free it once and for all.

That, she could not allow.

Scarlett shoved the impulses down. “You never should have come back.”

His gaze narrowed. “You never should have gotten mixed up with Darvish Sartin.”

True.

A loud thudding sound caught her attention; she followed it to its source and gasped.

She’d been so caught up in Damien that she hadn’t even noticed the other cage. A slightly larger version of hers, except the crystal walls were in dark mode, and it was rocking as if someone was throwing themselves against its sides.

Terror gripped her. “Who’s in there?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know?”

“Tell me.” She slapped her palms against the crystal, wishing she could rip the smirk from Damien’s face. If it was her brother inside that cage, it changed everything.

He laughed, but there was no warmth in it. Just the cold, hard merriment of someone who knew they held all the cards. Or thought they did. “It’s a mutual acquaintance. One I’m not too fond of.”

Her heart sank. Could it be Luc? Or Kadon? The latter had been in the corridor with them and the more likely possibility. “If you hurt him—”

“You’ll do what, exactly?” Gaze hardening, Damien tapped the transparent crystal barrier. “This cage suits you. Perhaps I’ll keep you here forever.” His claws lengthened. “But not him. He won’t live much longer.”

Tears gathered in the corners of her eyes. “Please.”

“Ah, such a pretty word from such pretty lips. I used to love hearing it while I fucked you with my fingers and mouth, and you spread those legs wide.”

Her gaze flicked to the kid standing behind, soaking in every word.

“Eyes on me, Omega.” Damien’s fist struck the crystal again. “He’s none of your business. Plus, he already knows all about our sordid past and what a betraying little viper you are.”

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