Dark Need (House of Sin 3)

Her voice crackles with pain, and it makes me want to lash out. But when I shift, I’m reminded of the shackles around my wrists and feet and the agonizing pain that accompanies movement.

“Don’t move,” she whispers.

Warm hands wrap around my body, gathering me into an embrace. The warm feeling that fills me is familiar and something I haven’t felt in a long while. Could it be … really her?

“You …” I mutter.

“It’s me, April,” she murmurs, burying her face in my shoulder. “I’m so sorry.”

“April.” Saying her name is like whispering a wish into the wind.

Like I’m not supposed to say it out loud.

Like I could make this illusion disappear if I only blink.

And I mutter, “Am I dreaming?”

“No, I’m really here. You’re not dreaming.” She doesn’t hesitate one second to put multiple kisses on my cheek. “I’m here.”

“But how?” My voice is raspy, strained, but I still try because I need to know.

“That note you gave me. It led me to Amelia,” she replies.

I’d already forgotten about that.

It was supposed to be a failsafe. In case she’d ever want to see the other girls kept at the House again. I didn’t realize she’d use it to … find me.

“Then I flew here and took a boat ride to the island. After I got Tobias to tell me where you went.”

“You went to the House?” I growl, jerking the chains from the burning rage in my chest.

She has no idea how dangerous that is. Tobias could’ve taken her right back inside again, and then all the time we spent together, all the choices I made will all have been in vain.

“I needed to know where you were,” she replies, clutching my face with both hands. “I needed to know you were safe.” Her eyes flicker with worry. “But you’re in chains and bleeding.”

She touches the wounds on my back, and I hiss in pain.

“Who did this to you?” she asks, quickly taking her fingers off my back.

“My trainer. She was not pleased.”

She fishes a piece of cloth from her bag and gently pats my face with it. “Because of the metal or because you failed?”

“Both.”

My trainer whipped me a couple of times during the week, and she used my body to teach other trainees. I’m not angry or upset. I’m used to pain. Besides, I did the same thing to others while I was in training. It’s expected of us, so I don’t blame them.

But I do blame myself.

“You don’t deserve this,” she says.

“Yes, I do,” I retort.

But she wouldn’t understand. She’s not from here. If she was, she’d know we never stray from the path. And the course is set for us by the women who rule this place.

She sits down in front of me again and makes me look at her. “You did the right thing. You gave me what I needed the most, and it cost you … everything.”

I avert my eyes. It’s too painful. “You shouldn’t have come.”

“What?” She frowns. “Why would you say that?”

“These barracks are dangerous,” I reply, coughing from the pain in my stomach after all the beatings I took. “If the guards see you, then you’ll lose your free—”

Suddenly, her lips smash onto mine.

It’s heavenly and out of this world. Just like I remember. And the cravings to smother her with love flood right back into my frozen heart, setting it ablaze. I groan with frustration at the fact that I’m tied up, wishing I could grab her and pull her close.

But I can’t.

I’m bound by the laws of my people.

And now she’s here too, endangering herself along with it.

So I pull away and say, “You have to go. Now. Before they find you.”

She looks me dead in the eyes, planting her forehead against mine. “I am not going anywhere. Not without you.”

I frown, confused. I gave her what she wanted. Why would she come here? Why does she care? I thought she hated me. “Why?”

“Because you gave me my freedom … but it cost you yours,” she says, caressing my cheeks. Tears form in her eyes, and if it weren’t for these chains, I would wipe them away myself.

“And I can’t let you do that.”

“You can and you will,” I growl, jerking the chains to get her frightened, to make her run. “Leave!”

But she won’t move. She keeps sitting in front of me with one hand on my cheek and one on my back.

“No. I’m not scared of you. Not anymore,” she says. “Nor of the consequences that come with falling for you.”

Falling …? Does she mean …?

She makes me look at her again. Even with all the bruises on my body, she still chooses to sit beside me and look at me without disdain, without shame. Instead, there is only warmth and gentleness where I’ve had none for days, maybe weeks, and it warms something in my body that I forgot existed.