Page 3 of Speak No Evil

Ican’t.

I’d rather die.

A stinging slap breaks through the haze of my thoughts.

“Breathe, witch!” Thorne shouts. I catch his face in my darkening sight, brow creased with worry, gaze holding mine like it’s the most precious thing to him.

Eternity stretches out in his warm brown eyes. An ever-expanding lifetime. Endless possibilities. With him. With all of them.

And I want to lean into that. I do.

But the shroud of my past, the hold my coven still has on me...

Ryker growls, shoving Thorne aside, and grabs me by the throat. His fingers press into the sides of my neck with enough pressure for me to notice.

“Breathe, Jade. I’m not losing you after only just finding you.” His voice is jagged and shredded, broken.

No one bothers to mention that choking the witch who can’t breathe doesn’t seem like the best course of action.

As Ryker’s warm fingers press into my flesh, blocking the blood flow to my brain, I stare into his golden gaze and let the blackness of unconsciousness take hold in me. Because if I pass out, the panic will stop.

But Ryker’s magnetism keeps me from the sweet relief of oblivion. It pulls at my very cells. Lightly at first. Like the suggestion of a breeze across my skin. And the more attention I give it, the stronger it grows.

I’ve always tried to avoid it. Tried to ignore the ability that’s so innate to Ryker’s nature he doesn’t need magic to wield it.

I’ve never given into it. Not willingly.

But I suppose the alternative is far less appealing.

I focus on Ryker’s pull. On the slight sensation of it, like feathers dragging over my skin. Giving it attention magnifies it exponentially, building until I feel as though I’m being sucked toward him, like we’re two opposing ends of a magnet. The sensation is so strong, I pull away, panic rising once more, fearing I might lose myself in him, in Ryker’s...

In Ryker.

But the burning in my oxygen-starved lungs convinces me otherwise.

So I let go, allowing Ryker to become the center of my world, the gravity holding me here. I grab the back of his neck and pull him to me, because in this moment...

He is. Ryker is the only thing holding me together. He's the center of everything. The sun and I’m the rocky planet, delighted to be snared in his gravity.

An immortal creature, a god smiling down at a scared, reckless witch. I’m lost in his pull, in the liquid gold of his eyes. And as before, I see the same eternity stretched out in Ryker’s gaze that I saw in Thorne’s. The same endless sea of possibilities and lifetimes with each of them.

Ryker slowly releases my throat and brushes a stray lock of hair from my face, molten eyes holding our future and the calmness of immortality, of seeing ages pass before you and remaining unchanged.

He pulls me to his chest, arms encircling me like steel. “Breathe, Jade.”

And with Ryker’s command, a shuddering, gasping breath full of his scent finally fills my lungs completely.

It drags painfully into my abused lungs, but...

My vision clears.

And the demon lord doesn’t release me.

“Thank you,” I whisper when I’m able and push at his shoulders.

It takes several minutes for Ryker to let me go, and when I’m free, he doesn’t meet my gaze.

The four of us stand there, unmoving, as I try to put myself back together, collecting the pieces of me I’d given to Ryker.

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