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She tore him apart and remade him. It took her less than a second.
Koen. Koen’s here. It will be all right.
“Uh-uh. Serena, he says he’s going to kill you. You cool with that?”
I think I smell how pleased it makes him.
“They say she’s your mate.”
I watch his pupils do an odd dance, sense a shift in his scent
“Is this the way you talk to your beloved mate?” A single eyebrow lifts. “I said you were my mate. Not that I loved you.”
“If you don’t tell her, Koen, she’ll find out anyway.” “How? Will she steal my diary? Is she able to read minds?”
“She explained what a mate is?” Slowly, I nod. “What Misery is to Lowe, you are to me.”
“Is this a, um…terminal diagnosis?” His lips twitch. “No cure, I’m afraid.” “I see.” I clear my throat. “Well, this relationship sure escalated quickly.”
But if you insist on a nickname, I’d prefer something with a bit more…” “More?” “More teeth.” His eyebrow rises. “Root canal?” “No. Come on, you know what I mean. Something that inspires fear.” “Real estate market crash.”
“Does it mean that he likes me?” “Yes,” Lowe says—which perfectly covers Koen’s “No.”
“You’re the most beautiful woman that I’ve ever seen,” he says simply.
“I’m not going to lie to you, Serena.” “Well, I’m probably going to lie to you a lot.” “Yeah?” His smile is almost charmed. “What kind of lies do you tell?”
“You’re my closest friend’s husb—mate’s closest friend. And I’d love to get along with you. So maybe we could be, you know, friends.” “What about polite acquaintances?” he counters. I cannot tell whether he’s serious, so I nod. “Deal. And you may quietly pine after me, if you must.”
baby’s first mass murder—in
“Maybe there was permanent damage. That would explain it.” “Explain what?” “The many things that are wrong with you.”
“Don’t thank me.” “Why?” “I fucking hate it.” “You hate to be…thanked?” “Yup.”
Koen just killed someone without batting an eye but cannot take me shedding a single teardrop.
“I think you owe me an apology.” “For what?” “The way you stared at my tits.” Silence. Then, instead of the I’m sorry or Go to fucking sleep I expect, he says, “I think you owe me an apology.” “For what?” “How spectacular your tits are.”
“That bad?” Lowe asks after a long silence. No. It’s worse than that.
Do you trust anyone at all? With your precious life, killer? How could I?
“Is this a threat?” “If you have to ask, I must be doing something wrong.”
“I can walk.” “Me too. Wanna start a club?” “Can I be president?” “Treasurer at most.”
“Don’t worry,” Misery reassures me, “every day I drill into her that we’ll be disappointed in anything but a DJing career.” “You’re such a good role model.” “I know. Right, Lowe?”
Taking one for the team. Like Misery did when she married Lowe.” Koen’s eyebrows rise. “Those two are sickeningly in love. Whatever she’s taking, it’s not for the team.”
You’re like, thirty-five, had much longer to grow accustomed to your role.” His expression clouds. “I’m not thirty-five, Serena.”
“I’m thirty-six. Even more decrepit than you thought.” “Oh.”
“Maybe we could hunt together. Find some game. Fill that belly of yours.”
Bites into unyielding muscles.
Where did Koen go?” I woke up deeply aware that he wasn’t around—not in the house, not roaming the woods outside, not anywhere nearby. I’d say GPS tracking is a Were superpower, but mine doesn’t extend to anyone but him.
“Sadly, not all of us can be named after the literal state of being in agony,” Misery says.
“We could be related. I could be your cousin.” He scoffs, unimpressed. “You’re not.” “How do you know?” “I have a cousin. Looking at her does not feel like looking at you.”
“Let me come to the Den with you. For all we know, it’s where I was born.” “You wanna be my cousin that bad, huh?”
Must belong to someone he’s close to—a friend or a second or a girlfriend. Does he? Have a girlfriend? Is that why he was so dismissive, when— “Why do you smell so worried all of a sudden?” he asks, ushering me inside.
“Does it not bother your back, Koen?” “You mean, the supermassive weight of my ego? No, it does not.”
What does that say?” “That there are other reasons at play.” He wets his lips. Takes a step back and then inhales deeply. Like the air around me is toxic, and he needs a break.
What would I have gotten if I’d chosen the other?” “A hug.” His eyes widen. Then squint. “What if I want to change my answer?”
This is like when Misery decided that she wanted me to clean her room instead of giving her a kiss on the cheek.” Koen frowns. “I want a kiss on the cheek.” “You can’t change your mind after you pick—that’s the whole point of the game. And the kiss wasn’t even an option for you.” “Bullshit. I want both options.”
“At least you like mine better than Lowe’s.” “We’re still talking about the landscapes, right?” “Yeah. Sure.”
“Do you know how I can access my bank?” His hand slides up, between my shoulder blades, and guides me inside. He doesn’t reply. “I do have some money,” I insist. “You do? No need to flex, Serena.”
He lingers for a fraction of a second, his nose hovering by my temple, and I hear a deep inhale. A slower exhale. A gust of warmth against my heated skin.
every single pair of underwear he selected for me is red. Bright red. Dull red. Wine red. Blood red. All. Kinds. Of. Red.
Because every single thing I glanced at, grazed, examined, eyed, or even considered when we were at the grocery store, every single thing I decided to walk past, every single thing I told myself I didn’t need—every single thing has somehow made it here, inside Koen’s house.
Her laughter adjusts the spin of his atoms.
“Clean cups are on that rack,” I say with a smile. “You have no right to be here.” I blink. “Okay. Clean cups are still on that rack.”
“Mouthy, isn’t she, Boden?” He sighs. “Never thought I’d be into that, and yet. Bane of my fucking existence.” His eyes flit to mine. “Don’t stop on my account,” he says with a lopsided smile. “I love watching asses being ridden. It’s my favorite kind of porn.”
“Come on,” Koen urges calmly. “Say it. What is she?” “Your mate.” “Ah, yes. I’d forgotten about that.” Koen slaps his own temple with the heel of his palm. He continues, monotone, “Since you’re so sure that everyone here despises her, including me, let this be known: fuck with my mate, and I’m going to kill you so slowly, draw it out so long, tectonic plates will move and create whole new mountain ranges. And when the rest of your family comes to avenge you, I’ll do the same to them. And if your friends come, I’m not going to fucking stop. Not even if all that’s left of the pack is me and her.
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“Can’t you just play something for me?” “But that won’t make you a well-rounded young lady.”
I’ll be gentle. Am I not gentle?” “You mispronounced ‘annoying.’ ”
