His tongue slid out of his mouth and touched my neck in one full swoop - a predator staking its claim.

  I should recoil, squeeze into the bed and wish for the capability of making myself much smaller than I was. Instead, I tilted my head to the side, exposing my neck even further to him.

  Because he was right

  I wanted to see what it felt like. I wanted him to undo me. And I hated myself for it, but not enough to stop this from happening.

  He chuckled, a low, dark sound that caressed my skin like the pad of his index finger.

  I swallowed, trying to moisten my throat, anything that would help serve me better than lying on my back and letting Keaton have his way with me. This had to be some kind of trick, something to do with his magic, because I didn’t understand why else I would just lie here and let him manhandle me like I was a rag doll he could do whatever he wanted to.

  “Well, babes?” He leaned impossibly closer. How we weren’t kissing at this point, I didn’t know.

  He must have seen something reflected on my face because his lips curved up into a smirk, eyes darkening as his desire caused his pupils to flare to life. Something thumped deep within my core. No one had ever looked at me this way before.

  No one.

  I knew I was relatively attractive. I looked pleasing to some, mousy to others, and I was okay with that. But the way Keaton looked at me made me feel like I was some kind of seductive goddess who could do whatever she wanted and still bring a powerful heathen like him to his knees.

  It was mind-boggling, and yet, I yearned for it. I craved it. I wanted that power to prove to myself I was more than some girl who knew how to fight and could memorize the answers to a test. I was more than just a Keeper searching for her brother - I was a woman searching for the answers of what I wanted and what darkness lived in me that slowly bubbled to the surface whenever Keaton was around. I wanted to know that side of me, to know exactly who I was, even the parts of me I was scared of.

  He cocked his head to the side, pursuing my face with his eyes. Desire still filled his gaze but there was something else. I wanted to define it as curiosity but there was more than that, and to be honest, it was hard for me to wrap my head around the fact that there could be more than basic needs. He was the physical embodiment of the id - all he wanted were his most basic needs fulfilled, be it food, drink, shelter, or sex. Nothing else, including rational thought, mattered to him.

  But maybe I was wrong. Maybe there was more to him than that.

  It was only then I realized he arched a brow like he wanted some kind of verbal response from me - either consent to move further or rejection to stop this immediately.

  “I…” I didn’t know what I wanted.

  No. That wasn’t true. I knew what I wanted, I just didn’t know how to tell him.

  My eyes dropped to his lips. Would they be gentle or demanding? Would they be merciful or unforgiving? I couldn’t pull my gaze away, trying to nail down some kind of answer to a question I didn’t realize I cared about until now. This moment.

  “Jesus Christ, babes,” he said, his nose pushing into my cheek like some sort of puppy nuzzling his owner, “you can’t look at me like that without consequences.”

  Moisture dripped between my thighs. I sucked a breath, squirming underneath him. He had such dominance over me; to try and fight him was a joke. It would be easier if I just gave in…

  Slowly, my eyes closed. I tilted my head to the side, closer to his lips, closer to the answer to all of the questions I seemed to care about in this moment…

  “You’re still drunk.” Keaton’s curt voice filled the room, and suddenly, he popped away from me and reappeared into the doorframe. “You need to sleep, babes.”

  “Wait,” I said, blinking once. He was just here, in front of me. I thought for sure…

  “Oh, don’t presume to think this is me being chivalrous, because it’s not,” he said. Though he was a distance away from me, parked just by the door, I heard his words as though he was just behind me, whispering all the naughty things he intended to do to me in the throes of passion. And maybe that was exactly what he intended. “I don’t want you to have any excuse why you’d regret it when I’m done with you. But mark my words, babes. I will have you, and you will beg me for it again and again.”

  Before I could argue, he popped away somewhere else. I wasn’t even sure if he was in the house any longer. It didn’t matter.

  Because Keaton exposed a part of me I didn’t know existed, and it scared me more than I cared to admit. Now that I knew about this part of me, the part that wanted to fall into his darkness, I wasn’t sure how to keep myself away from him. I wasn’t sure I wanted to anymore.

  8

  Keaton

  Keaton was a lot of things, but he wasn’t going to take advantage of some kid who didn’t know what she wanted even if he did. At this point, he walked the streets he knew like the back of his hand, like the touch of his hand, fists shoved in his pockets, shoulders hunched forward, eyes glaring at the pavement under his feet.

  Smoke puffed from chimney plumes on the various houses that lined the strangely suburban street. Grass overgrew its welcome, bushes formed shapes tinged by shadows that seemed lucratively ominous. Even the lights from the windows glowered iridescent, like a fire about to consume victims.

  And he was working off his desire for his soon-to-be wife like a goddamn pussy.

  Jesus Christ. Why couldn’t he just take her? He could smell her desire for him even now. It was like he buried his face against her cunt and inhaled as much of her juices as he could and left them to dry on his skin so he could continue to smell her whenever he fucking pleased. She was an aphrodisiac, an intoxicant he couldn’t seem to get enough of.

  He was getting soft. What the fuck was wrong with him?

  He conjured up a cigarette and lit the damn thing with his fingers. The smoke melted up to the sky, disappearing within the fog slowly touching the ground. There was an eeriness about it, a deep sense of foreboding, but Keaton never believed in that shit. In fact, he prided himself on being practical in times of great crisis.

  Like the one he faced now.

  It probably wasn’t the smartest thought he had had, deciding to take her out. Even if she wasn’t dressed in anything revealing, he certainly noticed the way others looked at her. Every instinct in him screamed to knock some sense into those that lingered with their stares. She was his. There was nothing else to it. Didn’t they realize that? There was a ring on her fucking finger specifically for that reason, to let everyone else know she wasn’t available.

  But no one seemed to give a shit.

  In fact, it was like the ring gave them permission to look a little harder than they otherwise might, to scrutinize the broad he came in with.

  To be fair, it wasn’t as though Keaton typically had a woman on his arm - at least, not one of Kara’s caliber. He had sexy whores who knew how to emphasize their assets and hide their flaws. They wore ridiculous getups and overdone makeup, but there was a sensuality about them that was difficult to ignore.

  Kara…Kara was too innocent for shit like that. She had this, dare he say it, inner beauty that capitulated from the inside out, that made it difficult to look away. The degenerates who lived down here didn’t realize that, couldn’t recognize it, because they didn’t know such a quality existed. And while Keaton was a worldly man, he hadn’t thought he could find someone who possessed a genuine goodness, a purity that enveloped more than merely the physical.

  But Kara had it.

  All she wanted was to figure out what the fuck happened to her brother. She was doing this all, risking it all, for him. And Keaton had every intention to take advantage of that, to deliver her the knowledge she so desperately wanted, but only after they tied the proverbial knot. He couldn’t let another opportunity like this slip through his fingers. He would marry the girl and secure his freedom quickly before she decided to change her mind.

  Because Keaton knew one thing about pretty breathers: they always changed their mind.

  Kara

  I couldn’t believe that bastard left me alone in his pitiful home. I crossed my arms, glaring at the front door. I had immediately exited the bedroom the second Keaton was gone. I needed space away from…from where something might have happened that definitely should not have almost happened, and I wasn't in the right mind to think any more on it.

  Instead, I paced up and down the dingy living room, hands behind my back. How dare he say I was drunk when I had been sober ever since his brother made an appearance. How dare he disentangle himself from me like he was doing me some kind of favor.

  I knew it was a good thing he left. I knew if he had kissed me, I wasn’t going to stop him. But I didn’t like that he was trying to tell me what I was feeling.

  I peered closer at the room. It was dank and dark. There was mold in the ceiling and there was a damp puddle in the corner of the room that wouldn’t seem to dry. And yet, there was something about this place.

  It was going to be my home. Maybe I could make it look more…homely.

  It was still difficult for me to wrap my head around the fact that I was going to get married. To a heathen. The thought must have settled in slightly because it didn’t knock into me or steal my breath the way it used to. In fact, there was something I must have gotten used to about the whole thing.

  I didn’t like it. Not really. But as far as heathens went, I could have done worse. Which was crazy because this was Keaton and he was a heathen and this was quite possibly the worst mistake of my life. But…but this was for Richard, and Keaton…maybe he wasn’t so bad. He hadn’t raped me. He had opportunities but he didn’t pursue them. In fact, he could have kissed me and very possibly done more just now, and still, he rejected me. He implied he was attracted to me, he wanted me, and I was almost positive he knew I wanted him, which, as embarrassing as it was, meant that he could have kissed me at minimum and I wouldn’t have pulled away. He wouldn’t have forced me to do that.

  But he didn’t.

  I shook my head, letting out a frustrated grunt. Every instinct inside of me screamed at me. I should be scared. I should be debating this, over and over in my mind, doubting myself, worried about tying my future to a heathen. But right now, I was exhausted. And a little bit scared. Where did Keaton go? Why did he leave me here? Was I safe within the context of his home? Keaton had a reputation. People wouldn’t try anything, would they? Even if they wanted to get back at him? I was sure the fear Keaton inspired in people caused anger. But I didn’t think I was worth much of a thought. If something had happened to me…

  He did save you from those black sentients back at the academy, a voice in my head pointed out. Even if it was only to ensure you’d marry him, he still saved you.

  I didn’t want to think about that. I didn’t want to see Keaton as someone who could potentially change my mind about him. I wanted to keep my distance. I didn’t want to trust him. Trusting him would just complicate things.

  But you have to trust him if you want information on Richard.

  I blew out a breath and collapsed onto the couch. My eyes shifted over to the front door and I sighed. It wasn’t like I wanted him to come back by any means. And I didn’t mind being alone. But there was something reassuring about his presence.

  And that scared me more than I liked to admit.

  I leaned my head against the couch and began to count the different spots on the ceiling. I was somewhere up to eighty when the door knocked.

  I nearly jumped out of my skin and I had to reach a hand and place it over my chest in order to get a grip on the static beating it was currently employing.

  I narrowed my eyes at the door. Obviously it wasn’t Keaton. He wouldn’t knock on his own door when he could throw it open or pop back in on a whim.

  No.

  This was a stranger. Possibly his brother, but something inside of me said it wasn’t.

  I held my breath, careful not to make a noise.

  “Breather,” he called from the other side of the door. His voice was smooth and silky, causing the hairs on my arms to stand erect. “Did you know I can hear your heart from where I am? I know you’re in there and I know the heathen who took you is not. Can you please open the door and invite me inside? I would like to look upon the face of the breather who has invaded my territory.”

  I furrowed my brows. Invaded? I didn’t invade? And his territory? Granted, I made an assumption that the speaker was male, but it seemed to fit.

  Who owned the Void?

  Wait, didn’t Keaton’s brother mention something about royalty? A Prince?

  But even if he did, that didn’t mean he was safe. The voice on the other side of the door was seductive, manipulative. I felt myself compelled to open the door, to see what he might look like. Instead, I sunk my fingers into the couch and curled my nails into the scratchy material.

  I didn’t want to risk it.

  For the umpteenth time, I couldn’t help but wonder if Davidson knew about the royalty here, and, if he did, what the hierarchy of the Void actually meant, especially in relation to breathers. Clearly, the Prince couldn’t break down Keaton’s door, reminding me of vampire lore that forced the predator to be invited in. There was a decorum of safety in that, a semblance of control.

  Unless Davidson didn’t know.

  Or maybe it was because he never thought one of his students, one of his Keepers, would find themselves bound to an engagement and taken to the Void.

  “Ah, your heart stutters, my dear,” the voice continued. “You are in the home of the most destructive spirit within the Void, and yet, you fear me. I’m sure, in time, you’ll realize your mistake. I hope, by then, it’s not too late.” A pause. “I shall be seeing you soon, my dear. Quite soon. I look forward to our inevitable meeting.”

  And then, silence.

  I didn’t even hear footsteps on the pavement, didn’t hear an intake of breath or a ruffling of sleeves. But I knew in my bones he was gone.

  Part of me wanted to throw open the door, to see if there was any piece of evidence he might have left behind that would prove his existence. But another part of me was too scared to risk it. What if this was a trick? What if he was waiting for me to open the door so he could force me to invite him in?

  No. I better wait for Keaton.

  I wasn’t sure how long it took but the second I heard that distinctive crack in the silence, I jumped from the couch and practically leapt into his arms. Luckily, I caught myself at the last minute, drawing myself away from him so I wouldn’t have gone out of my way to touch him.

  Keaton himself looked as though I had grown a second head.

  “What’s the matter with you?” he demanded, though his voice wasn’t rough and insulting. I would almost say there was concern laced in his tone, but I highly doubted he worried about me - wherever it was he went.

  “Someone came to the door while you were gone,” I said.

  He arched a brow, his entire body going tense. His suspicion was palpable on his taut face and I was surprised he hadn’t immediately launched into a list of insistences from me. Instead, he continued to stare, balling his hands into fists at his sides.

  “Well?” he snapped. “You going to make me guess?”

  “I didn’t answer it, obviously,” I snapped back. “He said that this place, the Void, was his territory. He could…he could hear my heartbeat.”

  Keaton stepped directly in front of me and leaned in close, overwhelming me with his nearness. “And what did you tell him?” he asked slowly, each word carefully enunciated, like he was speaking to someone who had difficulty with the language.

  “I…nothing,” I said. I couldn’t look away from him if I tried. “I didn’t say anything.”

  Keaton gave me a long look. Then, without another word, he disappeared again.

  9

  This time, Keaton reappeared not five minutes later. However, I was already over the lack of communication with him, and my nerves were set.

  “Who do you think you are, just leaving me -“

  “You’re safe!” he snarled back. “No one can get in unless you invite ‘em in. And technically, we’re not married yet, so you can’t do shit unless they specifically target you. Did the prince target you? Hmm? You said he knew you were a breather. Did he try to get you to invite him in?”

  It took me a moment to catch my breath.

  “This is very important,” a new voice said. I glanced behind Keaton only to find Ambrose there. When I locked eyes with him, he raised his brow and slowly raised his hands so they were leveled with his chest. He was attempting to placate me, I realized. He was trying to calm me down. “Did the person on the other side of the door tell you to let him inside?”

  I racked my brain for the memory. It had just barely happened, and yet, it was difficult to discern the details. Everything was happening so fast, and it felt like I was being taken advantage of by some dangerous, unknown entity.

  “Uh, I think he tried?” I guessed. “He implied he couldn’t get in unless I opened the door for him. He knows about me. And he implied that he owned the Void, or that he ruled over it.”

  Keaton and Ambrose shared a look. “That is most definitely Vincent,” Ambrose said, keeping his voice low even though there was no one else here in the home besides the three of us. It was almost like he didn’t want anyone on the outside overhearing our conversation, like saying the prince’s name was enough to trigger his attention.

  And maybe it was.

  “How the fuck could that asshole already know about her?” Keaton cocked his head in my direction though he kept his eyes on his brother.

 

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