Old
Pick your poison:
Lose Control ~ Teddy Swims
Neon ~ Livingston
Architect ~ Livingston
Shane
The walls are closing in, reality and dream collide as I glare at the closed door that served as a barrier between me and the witch who has enchanted my soul from the very fucking beginning. It’s impossible to keep my breathing quiet as I struggle for air. She’d hear my rasps, my gulps, if not for the running water. Gripping my chest, gravity yanks and I fall to my knees.
I lose control.
Max fights to come forward, and I have to shove him back. Digging my claws in, it’s only when the warmth of my blood coats my fingers, does my senses sharpen and my lungs expand. The air fills my chest and oxygen rushed to my brain. My shoulders shook following the sound of her splashing in the other room; completely oblivious to my despair as it bleeds from every pore in my body.
My curse was loving someone who couldn’t be bothered to remember me.
Adea was the shackle fastened around my ankle.
A reminder I would always be trapped.
The walls threatened to crush me; the ceiling pushed down.
If I ceased to exist, would this vicious cycle stop for just one damn second?
Or would the Moon Goddess pick up the pieces, wind me up, and set me down again—just so it could all start over again?
Adea was my one-way ticket to hell. This cycle never ended.
But just like this panic attack, she was the air I needed to fucking breathe.
I didn’t need to ask myself what set this into motion. Neither did Max. That’s why he didn’t ask, didn’t make a peep as he poked the bars of the cage I’d dropped on him. The dream I had last night while my wolf tasted freedom was one that shook the grip on my control.
I can still see the way her eyes twinkled: the way they used to, back when I would climb her ivory tower of death. When things were far easier than they were now. I started to chuckle, but choked as my panic attack reminded me it hadn’t run its course yet. The tightening in my chest reminded me I was no longer dreaming, but if I wanted to calm down, I needed to hold on to something good—something that made me happy.
Goddess, anything but that.
I needed to feel alive. Needed to know that Adea was really here. My gaze coasted the paintings. I had weeks to rip them off the walls and hide them, but I didn’t. Why? For the same reason I put them up in the first place. I hoped she would come here and see them. Even though I knew she wouldn’t remember me. She never did.
Except in that dream.
Fine.
Let’s… take a walk down this trail of happiness.
Max’s ears perked up. I hadn’t allowed myself to think about it, no matter how tempting it was. I didn’t want to let him in. Wheezing, I struggled to suck in large gulps of air. Closing my eyes, I allowed myself to step into the dream that has plagued my every waking minute since I’ve had it. Max tumbled into it with me. Here, he stood beside me. We’re in Desert Moon, there are no paintings. I pushed the door open and there she was, sitting on the counter. My wolf whined behind me. Her eyes lit up, her arms spread open, and I took my place where I belong—between her thighs. There’s no hate in my chest, only love, tinged with fear because time is ticking. I can feel the anxiety. In the dream, Ethan is alive, the curse is in place, and in less than 24 hours, she’s going to meet him.
And forget me again.
I hold her like it’s the last time, open my soul to her, knowing she’s going to shred it into a million little pieces, and kiss her because, for once, she loves me. And right now? She’s chosen me. Her fingers dance up my arms, curl around my back, and tangle in my locks. Her nails dig into my scalp the way I love. I can almost taste our first life, my head in her bosom, her fingers pulling on my hair. She wrapped her legs around my hips and all the blood rushed to my dick. I pulled away from her and she huffed, but I place her gently into the bath.
Glancing at the mirror, the demon reflected back refused to let her go. There was nothing we could do to hold on to her, but I let myself believe the lie. My hands greedily roamed over he consenting body, and my fingers trembled. Does she know how badly I want her? How much I want to own her? If I could keep her inside me, I would. I’d drag her to the darkest dungeons and lock her there. She murmured something, pulling me from my sinister thoughts.
She loved me here, cared for me, and I was… I was different. I was gentle with her. I didn’t know how to be that way anymore. She leaned into my touch instead of crying like she always did when we were together. She chose me, wanted me. That’s what made it hard. I would never get this, and that knowledge made me sick. My stomach churned. If I could stay, I would, but I can’t. As much as I want to stay in this dreamworld where I took her to bed and fucked her out of her mind, there’s this fakeness to it.
Opening my eyes, I’m pulled from the warmth, the happiness, the love. Max whined and I pushed him away as we’re tunneled back into the present. Clutching my chest, hiding from the women who tore my heart out, and never gave it back. She sits in that tub, washing herself, not knowing she’s taken another thing I thought I had and given it to another. My only regret is not killing that piece of shit slower. His death was too swift.
Taking a deep breath, I exhale. I don’t have her. I never did and I never will. And yet, I can’t give up on her. That little voice whispered. I retched. My body hunched forward, my curls hung around me and I laughed. I clawed at my chest, tearing through my flesh. Blood dripped, covering ink. The woman in that bathroom didn’t love me. She never would. She was a serpent.
I was a fool.
Always a damn fool.
But not in this life.
As badly as I wanted to be like the dream version of me, I couldn’t pretend she did. I couldn’t let myself fall into her traps. I had done it enough. And I wouldn’t ever do it again.
One thing she wouldn’t get in this life…
She wouldn’t choose Ethan.
Couldn’t.
Chance.
Her previous VIP client and lover came to mind. Would he have made an appearance in the other lives if I’d killed Ethan there? Was he the anomaly in this life because I made different choices? I knew I could change things, but did that force the Goddess’ hand? Had she thrown in a new obstacle since I’d removed an important player? I couldn’t keep up anymore. Sometimes the lives blended together.
This shit was getting old.
So fucking old.
What could I do to make it all end?
The door banged open, and I straightened. My gaze snapped to hers. It always did. Her eyes were wide. They dropped to my chest. I dropped my hand, letting it fall to the side. She raised a quivering hand and covered her mouth. Her eyes darted to mine, and I hated what I saw there. Pity. I hated that. I knew Adea more than she knew herself. Every flicker, every sharp inhale of breath, every move she made. I knew what it all meant. I wouldn’t deal with her pity.
She rushed to me, lifting her delicate fingers to my torn flesh. Oh, the irony. I’ve taken worse for her, by her. Ignoring her, I pushed past and headed toward the bathroom. If I stayed in this room for another second, I’d pin her down and take her. That’s all I knew how to do anymore. Take, take, take. Muffled noise. I couldn’t hear what she was saying—couldn’t get past the rage, the desperation, the loss I felt. She cut in front of me, arms splayed wide in an attempt to block my way to the bathroom. As if she could do anything to stop me from doing whatever I wanted. I hated how weak she was. Hated how strong I was.
Why had I brought her here?
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