Page 33 of The Night Runs Red

I closed my eyes against the swarm of butterflies taking flight in my stomach. I’d wanted a chance to grow and explore these confusing emotions plaguing me, and here he was, offering the opportunity to me on a silver platter.

But these were just words, and I couldn’t trust him unless those words became actions. Everything he’d done or said up until this point worked against him. I didn’t want to be one of those women who fell in the villains’ arms without question. Because there was no mistaking Rion as a hero. He was brash and often cruel with his words and intentions. I’d heard stories about his ruthlessness and his pursuit of wicked fantasies.

“I don’t trust you,” I whispered. I hated how the words tasted bitter on my tongue, but it didn’t change how I felt. The fact was, I had no reason to put my faith in this man who had been nothing short of a nightmare since I met him. Nor did I even know what I wanted from him.

“Then I try to will change that,” he promised. I saw the struggle in his eyes. For someone so used to being in charge, he was waging an internal battle. For what, though, I wasn’t sure. “By telling you what we know about the people that attacked you.”

CHAPTER TWENTY

Rion led me from the underground chamber to his office, taking care to navigate me through the darkness so there were no more accidents. The space was just as I’d imagined, with walls of deepest blue and dark hardwood floors. Two large windows comprised most of the back wall, offering a view of the Odesza below. They framed his desk and bathed the room in natural lighting, which was quickly dimming with the setting sun.

“The view is beautiful,” I said in awe, momentarily distracted from the confusing feelings churning around in my head.

“Yes. It is.”

The door clicked behind me, and I turned to find Rion leaning against the wall. His gaze roamed over me, darkening with each sweep. There was something about the moment that felt pivotal. Beneath the haze of lust clouding our emotions, there was something more, something reckless that could ruin both our lives. There was no explanation, no tangible evidence. Instead, it was something I simply knew. The knowledge was in my very being, and nothing could change it.

He pushed off the wall and stalked toward me, clasping my hands between his palms. “I do not have the answer to every question, but I will share with you what I know.” I nodded. No matter how much I wanted to demand information, I knew he wouldn’t know everything. Such little time had passed since the accident. But what he did know? I craved that almost as much as I craved him.

Rion gestured toward his desk, and I sat in a plush leather chair while he walked around and grabbed a thick folder. He returned and sat next to me before scattering photographs along the wood.

My stomach churned as I saw the horror depicted below. Each photo contained pictures of mutilated bodies, their blood-soaked skin making it hard to see what I was truly looking at. I covered my mouth. “My gods. What is this?”

“This is every single person who was there the day of your attack.”

I turned to him. “You did this?”

He lifted his shoulder in casual arrogance. “I had help.” I attempted to protest, and he held up his hand. “You did not see your body after the accident, Calia. You were beaten and bruised. So much blood matted your hair to your body… I thought—”

But he didn’t need to vocalize what he thought because it was clear. He believed I was dead. But what about his own body and the burns that had marred his skin when I’d woken up? Had those been injuries he’d received from tearing into my attackers?

Swallowing my nausea and confusion toward his care, I turned to stare and the pictures. “What did you find out before you killed them?”

Rion leaned back in his chair. “Very little, unfortunately. They refused to divulge information, regardless of the method of torture. Whoever is behind this has trained them well.”

“So, we know nothing?”

“Not quite. While they were silent on who they were, there is something linking them together.” I was quiet while Rion sorted through the images until he found what he sought. “At first, we assumed it was an attack orchestrated by a disgruntled rogue. Not everyone was thrilled to see us join. But when this group was brought to us, it was comprised of an array of beings—vampyres, fae, witches, and even a few mortals. Which means this is something we haven’t seen before.”

“How do we find what we do not know?”

Rion tapped a spot on one of the pictures. “Each body was marked by this symbol. Some were tattooed on, while others were burned or carved. Do you recognize it?” I shook my head, unable to speak. It looked like the blade of a sword, except where a pommel would be, there was a slender diamond. “Even I did not know. Anya’s father, however, was a noted historian. She still has many of his old books and searched them for answers.”

“And did she find them?” I asked, nervously playing with the sleeve of my sweater.

“Yes and no. She could not procure a name. Still, she did find references to this symbol being etched into the walls of the old fae palace before it was destroyed. According to her father’s notes, it is believed to symbolize protection. From what, we do not know.”

I thrummed my fingers along my thigh, hoping to expel the nervous energy coursing through my body. “What happens now? Is this where you vow to protect me?” I joked, but it fell flat. We both knew there was a glimmer of a confession behind my words.

Rion grasped my hand, intertwining my fingers with his to stop the fidgeting. “This is where I teach you to protect yourself. Your uncle instilled the basics of combat with you, yes?” I nodded. “Good. I would like you to have him train you further, at least once a week.”

“And what will you do?”

He leaned in slowly, grazing my thigh with the tips of his fingers as he dragged our hands along my skin. His gaze dropped to my lips, which parted for him quickly. “I will teach you how to read people and stop them from reading you.”

“Am I that obvious?”

He smirked, sending shivers down my spine as he stroked a fingertip along my skin. “I know you have wanted to fuck me since you laid eyes on me.” I let out a breath I’d been holding, knowing deep down it was true. Denying it would have been useless. “And despite how much you are trying to hate me, you do not.” His other arm rested on the back of the chair behind me. All I could focus on was the small circles he made with his thumb on my hand. “Would you have let me pull that pretty dress up around your hips, love? Would you have let me feast upon your flesh in that wedding chapel, knowing you were only moments away from being mine?”

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