The Annihilator (Dark Verse, #5)

by RuNyx

"I didn't think you'd come," she whispered in the space between their lips, her body overcome with the emotions she'd felt in the last few minutes. His gaze intensified, and he leaned down, speaking right against her mouth, his words brushing her lips but barely, so close she felt them on her skin, a promise and the threat all in one sentence both claiming and capturing her. "I'll always come for you."

“The world isn’t ready to see who I would become if this—” his thumb pressed on her pounding pulse “—ever stops.”

Stuff, stuff, more stuff.

‘How to stop suicidal thoughts?’ Articles upon articles popped up on the screen, along with a helpline number that she couldn’t call because she didn’t have a phone. She clicked on the first article and read through it slowly, her comprehensive speed not as fast as normal people. #1. Talk to your friends or family. She put the tablet down, breathing in through her mouth, her eyes welling up. She wouldn’t be fucking suicidal if she had friends and family in the first place.

“Because you’re mine!” She slammed her hands on the table, standing up. “You’re the only person, the only thing in this entire world that is mine!” Her chest heaving, she glared at him. “My killer, my stalker, my lover. The thought of sharing your obsession makes me sick to my stomach.

“What do you need?” he asked, the seriousness of his tone making her feel a little more sure about her decision. She studied him as best as she could, an instinct within her telling her to trust him. Lifting the bundle in her arms, she spoke. “Take him. Take him away from here, somewhere safe where he will grow up with love and care. Please. They’re coming for me, and he needs to be away when they find me. Please, please, please...” The man’s mismatched eyes drifted to the baby swaddled in the thin blanket. “Is he yours?” She nodded, her eyes tearing up again, the pain of giving him up a burden she would carry gladly for his chance at a better life.

A shout from the woods made her straighten urgently. “Please leave," she urged the stranger. "Take him. Now!” Her eyes flitted to the round face peeking from the blankets, agony searing her as she leaned down to kiss his cheeks again, not knowing if she would ever see him again, not knowing what his fate would be but trusting the only choice she had. “Be safe, little Xander," she murmured against his soft cheeks. "Be strong. Be loved, my beautiful baby.” The man stayed still for a long second, watching her as she said her goodbye, before turning on his heel and walking into the darkness with the only thing she loved in the world.

He didn't say anything for a long minute. "You know, it was your determination to save him that night that fascinated me. The way you trusted me to take him even though I could see it was killing you. It intrigued me." Her heart thud with the memory. "How is he?" "Good," he told her, finally giving her some answers. "He's with… a couple that loves him." Heart full, she swallowed. "That's good. Thank you."

“I think it’s feeling safe,” she told him after a long moment of thinking, a moment where he patiently waited for the answer. “Emotionally, sexually, physically, safe in every way. It’s knowing you can be yourself with someone and they won’t judge you. It’s feeling like equals when need be and being able to give up control if need be. It’s... feeling like you can trust someone with the darkest secrets and knowing they’ll keep them safe. It’s the ability to trust without thought. It’s—” her voice shook as his gaze intensified “—being able to give up something important to yourself if it will help the one you love. It’s putting their needs above your own. It’s unconditional. That’s... that’s the idea of love for me.” He

“If there was any love in this world of mine, Lyla, it would be you.” Her heart stopped. “Dainn,” she whispered, knowing this wasn’t something he would just say casually, knowing it meant something. “I am darkness.” He kissed her softly. “I live it, I breathe it, I am it. There is no redemption, no emotion, nothing for me. Nothing but you. You’re the moon to my dark night, flamma. You’re the only thing in this black sky that can thrive when I swallow everything else whole. The stars don’t exist in this space. Just you and I. You need me to glow and I need you to exist. It’s simple as that.”

As soon as he was within reach, she wrapped her arms around him, nuzzling his chest, pressing her ear to his chest to remind herself that his heart did beat too.

“If you ever choose another, make sure you kill me first. Because I—” he bent to whisper against her lips “—will annihilate the fucking world before I let you go.”

She was the sun in the endless dark abyss of the universe, a ball of fire so bright she made everything revolve around herself without even trying, and anything that didn’t was lost to float away and die.

“You’re the oxygen that feeds my flames—without you, my existence is questionable.”

There is no reality where you and I exist that we don’t end up exactly where we are now. None.”

"Do… do I have a brother?" she asked, unable to help herself. She felt a moment's pause. "Yes." Her knees wobbled and she felt her body collapsing, his strong arm going around her waist to support her. "I was waiting for you to be ready. You couldn't have met anyone like you were." She centered herself, holding onto his arm, her brain processing everything. She had a brother, one who'd been looking for her for twenty years or so, which meant he was older than she was. She had an older brother. She didn't know the emotions inside her, didn't know what was happening in her body as it sunk in. She was aware of the bald man saying something, and aware of the quiet but solid presence behind her, but nothing more. She had an older brother. Tears streamed down her cheeks, her nails digging into the forearms of the man she held onto, her breathing heavy. She trusted him, but she was mad, mad because he'd known about it and hadn't told her, mad because she had gone on for so long thinking she had no one.

Arms came around her, a warm body at her back, legs on each side of her, his masculine scent in her nose. "Xander is with your brother." Five words. Five words that tilted her world on its axis all over again. She gripped his arms to anchor herself, her chest heaving as a noise left her, the burn overpowering her eyes. The shivers wracked her frame and she cried out, sobbing as the facts hit her one after the other. She had a brother. Her baby was with her brother. She had family. Her baby had family. Her sobs turned to hiccups and she stared at the water, her throat burning.

"He… he knows you?" she stumbled over the question, unable to believe it. His arms gave her a squeeze. "He does. I talked to him, explained that he had family he had to go to, and he understood. He's sharp. Then, I placed him in an orphanage and led your brother right to him." She swallowed. "What's… my br… my brother like?" There was a long pause. "He leads the mafia operations in Shadow Port. He's determined, lethal, and he's not stopped looking for you since you were taken from him twenty-two years ago."

The honest, matter-of-factness of his words made her close her eyes as she absorbed them. Her brother. He was in the underworld too. And he had been searching for her. "What's his name?" her voice croaked. "Tristan Caine," the man behind her spoke, his voice neutral. "And… what's my name?" A hand turned her face to the side, her eyes locking with his in the moonlight. "Luna." Luna. It felt strange. She didn't feel like a Luna.

But as she stared at the screen, she opened the search bar, her fingers hesitating. And then she typed. 'Tristan Caine'. She found a few hits, some newspaper articles, some images. Hands shaking, she clicked on one of the photos, to look down at a good-looking man with bright blue eyes. Lyla stared at the photo for a long second, unable to grasp if it was his features that looked familiar or if she'd seen him somewhere. Scrolling to the next photo, she gasped. It was him with a brunette in glasses, both of them looking at each other, the caption reading 'Tristan Caine and Morana Vitalio rumored to be engaged'. Morana. She remembered that name. She remembered the girl that night in her club, the night she had almost ended her life. He had been there. Her brother had been right there, and she hadn't even known. Instead, she had gone up to her room and overdosed herself.

The photo changed, this time to include a young boy with the couple. Her mouth parted, her eyes misting as she took in every single detail of his grown-up face. He was beautiful. So beautiful. She wrapped her arms around herself as the photos changed, a slideshow of different shots of him, and Lyla took them all in, saving the precious visuals in her memory, her heart bursting with love and loss and happiness for him.