Having twenty men surrounding me set my system on a razor-sharp edge.
The entire drive, Rook had been in the backseat with Whisper, while I’d been up front, which meant I hadn’t been able to touch her.
And the burning was getting bad.
Even now—even on the cusp of vanishing from Marcus’s control forever—I was still fucking weak...just like he’d made me.
Something feral snarled inside.
What if I got on that plane and they flew me back to hell?
What if they betrayed me like everyone else?
“Lucien.”
I flinched as Rook’s dainty hand slipped into mine, wrenching me back onto the private airstrip in the dead of night.
Her touch.
Fuck.
I could breathe again for the first time since we’d left the room.
I could move without flames chewing my joints like I’d somehow ingested the sun.
Whisper chuffed and headbutted me, sensing my pain as Rook squeezed my fingers. “Whatever you’re thinking about...stop.”
The heat in my blood cooled as if she had the ability to pour ice directly into my veins.
I shuddered.
All those moments where I’d relied on her in Cinderkeep reminded me all over again how dangerous she was.
She could calm my heart and quieten my mind just by touching me.
She could leash and control me with a single orgasm.
The fact that she was the only thing to grant me peace didn’t offer me comfort but fear.
Because I was taking her home...
And if she ever betrayed me—
Fire surged.
“Lucien,” she hissed under her breath. “I really need you to calm down so you don’t start steaming on the runway, okay?” Flicking a look at the masked men waiting behind us by the black vans, she kneaded my forearm with her other hand, reminding me of the night she’d massaged me in my quarters. How I’d jerked her over the back of the couch and kissed her.
How I’d wanted to do so much more than just steal a kiss—
“Don’t touch me.” Pulling out of her grip, I did my best to ignore her pained inhale.
Fresh anger arrowed through me.
I didn’t want to be cruel but...I was starting to trust this girl.
And that made everything so much worse.
“If you’re concerned that the plane won’t make it in one flight,” the extraction leader said. “Rest assured, you’re travelling in a Gulfstream G800. It will get you home in one leap.”
I nodded tersely as if that was what I was concerned about. “Fine. You can go.”
Rook blinked beside me, looking small and fragile in her bulletproof vest. She also looked cold. Her teeth chattered as a particularly icy breeze kicked around the hangar.
Without thinking, I tapped Whisper’s head as he leaned against me. “Go to her.”
The panther shot me a look before pressing protectively against her side.
Rook smiled in gratitude as Whisper shared his heat, even as his gaze locked onto the horizon. A soft grumble echoed, no doubt thanks to the wide-open space triggering his need to run.
Pity I didn’t have a gazelle for him to hunt.
“Bet you’d love to race down there, huh?” Rook asked quietly, mirroring my thoughts as she tugged his ear. “I bet you could fly as fast as a plane.”
Another gush of heat crippled me.
These two kept putting me in a highly vulnerable position because how was I supposed to keep my guard up when I kept melting around her?
Behind us, the company who’d been hired by my father all those years ago vanished into the night, pulling away with silent tyres.
I breathed a little easier with less people, but my skin crawled at the thought of spending the next long hours in a claustrophobic tin can.
What if I overheated?
What if I set it on fire like I had with the wall and the tap and the carpet?
The night ticked past until Rook finally asked, “Are we going to board...or just stare at it?”
Not answering her, I gritted my teeth and strode toward the plane.
Chapter Twenty-Four
DESPITE MY WEALTH, I’D NEVER SPLURGED for a private plane. However, I had to admit, this might’ve spoiled me for public travel forever. And it wasn’t because of the creamy interior, muted gold accents, or plush carpets. Nor was it the ability to drive right to the door and stumble on with a pet panther and no questions asked.
It was the silence.
The steady drone of powerful engines and the fact that we’d been able to skip all the stressful nonsense like immigration, check-in, and security.
That alone was worth the exorbitant price tag because airports always left me with a migraine.
“Top up?” The brown-haired, very pretty airhostess smiled, holding up a bottle of expensive champagne.
Both Lucien and I had drunk a few glasses after we’d taken off and been treated to a six-course in-flight meal. The delicious array of decadent dishes had filled my empty belly and I’d happily accepted the bubbly alcohol, all while my mouth watered for those exotic fruity, blossomy wines from Cinderkeep.
I glanced at Lucien where he sat by the window beside me.
He hadn’t said a word ever since I’d escaped from the bulletproof vest and taken our seats. He shut me out as we hurtled down the runway and catapulted into the sky. He didn’t look at me while we ate. Acted as if he wanted nothing to do with me. And now that the cabin lights had been dimmed and Whisper had stuffed himself on numerous prime steaks—falling into a contented snooze on the couch behind us—he barely breathed.
His hands clutched the armrests, his knuckles white. His eyes tightly shut, forehead furrowed, and sweat beading on his temples.
I didn’t bother tapping him to see if he wanted any more.
If he got drunk onboard who the hell knew what would happen?
Turning back to the airhostess, I whispered, “No thanks. We’ve had enough.”
“Would you or Mr. Ashfall like anything else or shall I turn down the bed so you can rest?”
“Turn down the what?” Twisting in my luxurious leather recliner, I looked down the back of the cabin. “There’s a bed?”
“Of course.” She straightened and pointed at the door that I’d assumed led to a bathroom. “There’s a full suite at the back. You’re welcome to use it. Feel free to retire whenever you’d like.” Shifting the dew-covered bottle of champagne in her hands, she added, “We’ve been in the air for two hours with another nine to go. I’ll close the blinds so the sunrise in a few hours doesn’t disturb you.”
Turning on her heel, she returned to the front and set about shrouding the cabin in darkness for a peaceful rest.
Unfortunately, Lucien missed the memo about finding peace.
Glancing at my very old and very dead cellphone resting on the small table across the aisle, I wished I’d brought my charger so I could tell Dillon I was alright. That I knew what I was doing and I wasn’t worried at all about being flown across the world—with no documentation or destination—at the mercy of the man who’d decided I now belonged to him.
Sarcasm.
And that isn’t even the worst of your problems...
Snowflake.
Lucien’s reaction when I’d asked if he’d ever heard of Snowflake Corp replayed on a vicious loop—the way his brow had furrowed for half a second too long. The way his eyes had gone distant as if trying to recall something old and buried in his mind.
He’d almost recognised it.
Hadn’t he?
My stomach twisted as I glanced at him.
Was he ignoring me because he’d remembered something?
Was he plotting how to kill me even now?
As if sensing I was looking at him, his fingers curled tighter around the armrests. His head tipped back against the seat, throat bared, eyes tightly closed as if he was afraid of what might happen if he opened them.
The odd chill inside me chose that moment to swell.
