A soft, dreamy smile erupts on my face before I can stop it.
“What’s that smile for?” Caius asks with a smile of his own. I’m momentarily struck dumb by his beauty—the raw masculinity and sexuality exuding from him in waves.
And he’s mine, I think smugly. All mine.
The words rush from my mouth before I can stop them. But trying to hold them in would be like trying to push back waves using your bare hands—impossible.
“I love you.”
Those three words sit between us, hanging suspended in the air like dust particles. His eyes widen slightly, almost imperceptibly, and his lips twitch.
Embarrassment floods me when he doesn’t immediately return the endearment.
Oh my God. I’m an idiot. An. Idiot. Think, Hadley, think. Maybe you can pretend to not speak English.
“I love you too,” Caius cuts through my embarrassed inner ramblings. Both his voice and eyes are sincere—diminishing all of my pesky doubts and insecurities—as he leans across the table and takes my hands in his. “I’ve loved you forever. Only you. It’s only ever been you. Don’t you know the lengths I would go to for you? The things I would do? What I have already done…” A contemplative, almost pained, expression flickers across his handsome face, twisting his features. “But you don’t love me. Not really. You love the memory of me, but not the real me.”
Before I can protest—before I can assure him he’s my entire world, my reason for living when I’m already dead—he lunges the distance between us and kneels between my legs. He cups each of my cheeks reverently, tenderly, licks of fire cascading through me and liquefying my veins.
“I’ve never knelt to anyone before, but I’m kneeling for you. Because I love you, and I want you to love me for me.” His hands tighten on my face almost to the point of pain. “Say it again.”
“Caius, what’s going on? You’re acting weird.” My stomach twists at the wrongness of this moment. Images pierce my retinas of other males kneeling before me. A white-haired Angel. A dark-haired Demon with a perpetual scowl marring his face. A cocky Ghost. A blushing Reaper with a sweet smile.
I’m positive I’ve never seen these men before in my life, so why are they intruding on my private, emotional moment? Why can I see the body of the Reaper over me—replacing the image of Caius—as he pounds into me earnestly and lovingly? Why can I see the Demon tying me up and devouring my body in the same place Caius did?
My head pounds fiercely, and I clutch at my temples.
“Say you love me,” Caius demands brokenly.
I want to say the words, I want to reassure him that he owns my heart, body, and mind, but the words don’t come. They can’t come. They remain safely tucked away behind lock and key.
Those words aren’t meant for him.
The realization—and the intensity of it—stuns me. I clutch my chest as if that could somehow keep my heart from breaking. My poor, battered heart.
“Caius…” I whisper.
He must see something on my face, for his own expression hardens. The gentleness and vulnerability previously evident all but disappear.
“I just want you to LOVE ME!” he screams, and the force of his confession is like a storm. An explosion. Wooden pillars and debris fly past my face, and my hair whips behind me. His eyes are fragments of onyx, darkening like the sky as a storm rolls in, any and all warmth nowhere to be found. He releases an anguished roar, and even my tightening grip on the table can’t stop the wind from taking me, throwing me, tossing me against the wall.
I only have a second to see regret—genuine, heartbreaking regret—cross his features before darkness mercifully consumes me.
Chapter 4
Auston
Hadley’s hurt.
I’ve got to get to her fast.
The premonition plays over and over in my head like a reel from an old movie as I run through the medical ward. In the hallway, I thought I caught a glimpse of dark, curly hair that could only belong to Layla, but I don’t have time to linger. This vision is so different than any other premonition I’ve had in the past. Usually, they are like dreams, smooth and realistic, like I’m there in the room watching them or hovering close by.
But this?
This was something otherworldly, something strange and obscure.
And it’s fucking pissing me off that I can’t find more clarity.
It reminds me of one of those old books we used in elementary school. Each page had a different picture of the same scene, and as you flipped the pages quickly, it made the image move. That’s what my premonition was like—a series of stills flipped in rapid succession.
I burst through the doors and launch myself into the sky. I can sense Braxton taking flight behind me.
“Where are you going?” Preston’s voice shouts from below.
“Tree house,” I yell back before pumping my wings at breakneck speed. It will only take minutes to get there, but it feels like a lifetime as I soar over the East Woods towards the dorms. I try to recall every detail.
My Hadley.
I swallow down the burning lump in my throat and push my wings harder as the rising sun casts a pink glow on the clouds in the sky.
Hadley.
In the tree house.
With another man.
A man who’s hurting her.
Rage makes my vision go red as I recall the scene. Like an old black and white movie, it starts.
Hadley is dressed up, looking gorgeous as usual as she rubs her hands down a sleek leather skirt before fluffing her hair. She turns casually around in her dorm room, chatting with Aggie—who is doing unmentionable things—and Layla. Layla seems anxious, fiddling with a hole in her sweatshirt and chewing on her lip.
Hadley waves goodbye to her friends, then practically jogs through campus to a tree house I’ve never seen before. But she seems to know the way like she’s been there a hundred times. The night sky illuminates her face through the trees. She looks normal, like the Hadley I’ve come to care about much more than just a mentor should. She means something to me, something I’ve never felt with anyone else before.
She climbs up a rusted ladder and pushes through a door under the tree house, heaving herself inside. The vision flickers for a moment, then I find myself hovering around the front wall, looking in on the entire house. Hadley’s mouth moves as if she’s talking, then she walks to the kitchen at the back of the tree house.
A man stands there with his back to me. He has chin-length, dark hair that is meticulously styled. He seems older than us, early thirties I’d say. He’s muscular and dressed in a simple black shirt that somehow would put any I’ve ever worn to shame. An apron is tied around his tapered waist. He wipes his hands on it, then turns to see Hadley.
A smile cleaves his face, but I find no joy there. I don’t recognize the man, but seeing him elicits a reaction inside me.
Fear.
Evil.
Power.
Hadley walks over to him, and he spreads his arms to offer her an embrace. Hadley seems reluctant, but he pulls her to his chest anyway and wraps his much larger frame around her tiny one. Hadley struggles, and my heart clenches. She doesn’t want to be with this man. But then why did she meet him in the first place?
So many unanswered questions filter through my mind as the nameless man threads his long fingers into her sandy-colored hair and tugs her head back. He searches her eyes and says something as she pushes against his chest. Then he brings his face down to hers, attempting to kiss her.