The moment I see his face again this close, I want to throw away my pride, fall between his knees, and beg him to take me back.
I want to kiss his lips and feast on his tongue.
Two weeks without him has been a fucking eternity. I didn’t care before him, but after him, it’s torture to go day in and day out without his touch.
Survive without his presence, his flirtatious nature, and his clingy texts.
Without his grins and his daft jokes.
Without…him.
I stroke my fingers in his hair and contemplate kissing him. Just once.
No one will know—
He releases a groan, the sound vibrating and striking me in the chest. I let him go and pull at the hair on the back of my neck to keep my hand busy and stop me from touching his cheek, or, worse, actually kissing him.
Nikolai opens his unfocused eyes, pupils dilated, probably because of the drug Lan gave him.
My heart thunders so hard behind my chest, I’m surprised he doesn’t hear it.
“Lotus flower…？ What are you doing here?”
My hand stops its incessant pulling and I swear I’ve never felt so relieved as when he called me that instead of my real name. But then again, his speech is slurred, so maybe he’s still drugged and doesn’t know what he’s talking about.
I let my hand fall from my nape and fetch my knife, then start cutting the rope, trying to remain composed, to not actually stroke every slope of his muscles as I speak in my signature detached tone. “You’re the one who came into my house. You just couldn’t stay away?”
I feel the rumble of Nikolai’s chest against my hands and make out his grin from the corner of my eye as he drops his voice. “How else would I see you so adorably worried about me?”
“I am not worried about you, and don’t fucking call me adorable again.”
“Wow. The posh boy can curse.”
“Shut it or I’ll leave you to my brother’s and cousins’ nonexistent mercy.”
“If I’d known I’d see this side of you, I would’ve gotten myself kidnapped long ago.”
I stare at him, my chest aching and my heart begging for something. Anything. “Are you insane?”
Nikolai rolls a shoulder. “Probably.”
I puff out a long sigh. “I’ll release you and leave the back door open, and you’ll have to find your own way out.”
“No.”
The new voice makes me freeze and I start panicking. How long has he been there?
I straighten and slowly turn around. “Creigh.”
Shit.
This whole thing is happening because of his revenge. I need to get Nikolai out of here. Now.
I have a terrible feeling about this.
Still turned sideways, I cut on Nikolai’s ropes, trying to keep my movements as minimal as possible.
Creigh, however, notices and barks, “Step back.”
“This isn’t right and you know it—”
“Step the fuck back, Bran. I won’t repeat myself another time.”
I do, letting my hand with the knife fall to my side as I face my cousin.
“Get out,” he orders.
This isn’t like him. He’s blinded by revenge and isn’t even seeing me. I’m the only person he actually seeks for company, because we’re both comfortable with silence and don’t feel the need to fill it.
He’s easygoing and prefers sleep over anything else, but he also fights and takes after the King genes more than I do.
This is the first time I’ve seen Creigh so unhinged and out of control. I’m worried Nikolai will be caught up in the madness he’s planning with Eli and Lan.
And that sparks a loathsome feeling inside me.
Fear.
The need to protect him beats under my skin like an urge.
“Listen…” I take a step toward Creigh. “I know you feel the need for revenge, but this whole thing is wrong.”
“No one asked for your opinion. Stay out of this.”
“I won’t allow you to throw your life away for parents you’ve never known and a past you’re better off without, Creighton.” I speak in a firm tone. “I’m letting Nikolai go and then we’ll talk about this. Rationally.”
I turn toward Nikolai and I feel like I’m melting when I find him looking at me with those hooded eyes.
I’m sorry, I say with mine. For everything.
I grab the ropes, but a blow lands at the back of my head, and the world is pulled from beneath my feet.
The last thing I see is Nikolai’s wide eyes as I fall on top of him. But I manage to slip the knife between his thighs so he can save himself.