The Annihilator (Dark Verse, #5)

by RuNyx

Whatever it was, from the moment her fire had found his, her fate was sealed.

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

Mr. Blackthorne, as they called him, was someone important. He also walked the night as the Shadow Man,

trust you,” she managed to whimper as a bolt of heat ran through her body, making her spasm. “That’s exactly what sealed your fate all those years ago.” She knew that. She had trusted him with something important and he had never let her escape since.

He was going to be her last and she would be his first in so many ways.

He was going to test her trust, take every little ounce that she had in her capacity, until her body, her mind, her fucking soul believed in how important she was. She was it. She was the reason.

She had been seventeen when she had come to this Complex, eighteen when she’d met him for the first time, eighteen when her life had changed on one fateful night.

She wanted nothing of him. No reminders. Nothing of the man who had made her believe in an illusion of safety, only to push her into danger himself. He had betrayed her, time and time again, leaving her behind for the jackals to feed off her flesh.

'I'll always come for you.' Liar.

“Take me gently, death. I’ve been waiting for you,” she whispered, her mind dizzy, her eyes closing again.

“You have been, you are, and you will always be my only obsession, Luna Caine.”

She cried out at the fact that he took another girl’s name, a sharp pain piercing her heart before everything went black.

He would wait years for the right time with her, but the fact that she hadn’t had the patience told him two very important things—she was broken more than he had estimated, and he needed to do whatever it took to make her alive again. If she didn’t feel again, the world would cease to be. Her life wasn’t hers to take.

Everything he’d done for the last six years had been for her, so she could live one day freely without looking over her shoulder all the time.

Lyla saw herself blink in the reflection. “You behind me.” She startled as he leaned in, his reflection joining hers closer, his face beside hers. “Exactly. I’m always behind you, even when you cannot see.”

“I know you, flamma,” he reminded her. “The deepest desires of your heart, the softest secrets of your soul, the meanest moments in your mind. I know them all, I own them. Every desire, every secret, every thought.”

Lyla felt her lips purse. “You’re a liar.” “I am,” he agreed without a pause. “But I don’t lie to you.”

“They broke me.” The words left her, and his thumb came to her quivering lower lip, steadying it, his intense eyes on hers. “And they will pay.”

“I was with you. You didn’t go through any of that alone.”

Somehow, knowing he had seen it, that he had experienced it with her made her feel a little less lost. Knowing he had seen her be used and discarded, and knowing he still wanted her, it made something in her chest go tight in a way her heart bloomed. He had seen her at her worst, witnessed as they broke her, found her in the jaws of death, and somehow, he’d still found her worth saving. Even after all of it, he had brought her to his house and given her a safe space to heal.

As did finding a fresh red rose and little notes on her bedside table. Notes that elicited different reactions in her. The ‘I got the piercings for you’ made her breathless. The ‘Did you know you snore?’ made her frown. The ‘I liked the dress you wore yesterday’ made her cheeks warm. And so on and so forth. Little notes, every single day.

The scene in her mind changed. She imagined herself running in the dark, getting caught by a man who was darkness himself, telling her she was his as he claimed her, making her feel safe and protected and unreachable for any other monsters. She didn’t need a good man telling her he loved her; she needed a dark devil to tell her she was his. And maybe Dainn was the man. Maybe he wasn’t.

“I will set the whole world on fire before I let anything hurt you again.” The dark promise full of violence made the black hole take a step back. “Give me your eyes, flamma. I want to see the fire in them. Show them to me.”

“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. You have power over me. Is that what you wanted to hear? That your claim makes me an idiot because my stupid fucking heart believes you? Is that it?”

“Your heart isn’t stupid.” His words, again quiet, made her look at him. “Soft, yes. Stupid, no. I think it’s quite smart to believe me when your mind doesn’t.” She didn’t know what to say to that. “There’s been no one for six years, Lyla.”

His lips twitched. “Believe me or don’t, fact is fact. I haven’t fucked anyone in six years. I’ve not touched anyone who’s not you in six years. And I’ve never kissed a woman on the mouth in my life. Never saw any point in it.”

“Hold me, please.” His hands tightened around her and he pulled her in, her face going into his chest, her nose filled with his distinctive, masculine scent, her body full of the warmth of his. He held her close, and listening to his heartbeats, feeling everything she was feeling, she could almost believe he felt it too.

She also seemed to be genuine, something he was glad for because Tristan was the biggest threat to him. Not because he was more powerful or more lethal, but simply because he had a connection and devotion to Lyla that she craved.

And once upon a time, he might have let go of her. But not now. Not when she’d run from him and roused the animal inside him he hadn't known he'd had. Not when she’d shattered in his arms and let him anchor her and bring her back. Not when she’d given him another piece of herself, trusting him to keep her safe. She had cooked him a meal like he was special, embraced him like he was someone worth holding, and looked at him with emotions a demon of death like him had never seen and certainly didn’t deserve.

It was the way she stole glances at him, the way she stole his t-shirts, the way she stole parts of him too. There was no fucking way he was ever going to let go of her. He had long left obsession and entered into a whole new territory, one he didn’t even recognize because it was more. More obsessive. More intensive. More possessive. More.

If he'd been ready to burn the world for her before, it was nothing compared to the destruction he would cause now. And though he had no plans to keep her from Tristan, he needed to be sure that she wouldn’t leave him in the dust when the time came. The world wasn’t ready for what he would unleash if that ever happened.

At the sound of the voice, she tilted her neck up to see a tall man, probably in his late twenties, with mismatched eyes looking down at her. She'd never seen eyes like that on anyone.

“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...”

“I will trust you with him. But promise me—” she cried out as the pain in her insides increased, cutting off her words. She took a deep breath and continued. “Promise me you’ll keep him safe. If you can’t keep him, send him to someone who will love him. Promise me.”

“Be safe, little Xander," she murmured against his soft cheeks. "Be strong. Be loved, my beautiful baby.”

“If we do this,” he said quietly against her mouth, “I will be your last everything. You choose this, you choose everything I am, every twisted, deranged, obsessed part of me. You choose this, and I will never fucking let you go. Do you understand?” Her eyes fluttered close. “I do.”

After a lifetime of looking at cracked ceilings and peeling paint while pieces of her were ripped from her, he had given her a ceiling of beautiful stars and slowly put the pieces back together again. He had touched her soul.

It wasn't like the other mornings. She had felt him now, let

him in now, and there was an intimacy between them. Usually, he greeted her and went for a shower. This morning, he rounded the counter without stopping, gripped her jaw, and gave her a hard, thorough kiss that left her clutching his arms.

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."

"When I was fifteen, I burned down the orphanage I’d been at, killing about eight adults inside. The fire was a big deal back then. Three of the adults had been members of The Syndicate.”

She drew in a sharp breath, in the middle of pouring. “What did they do?” A dark smile slashed his lips. “Made me an assassin. I had nothing against them at the time, and they knew I had no problem killing. So they sent me to hunt their targets. That made me a lot of money, which I later invested in different businesses, made even more money.”

“Will you ever love me?” she gave voice to the deepest, rawest desire of her heart. He simply looked at her, curious from what she could sense. “What is love to you?”

“I think it’s feeling safe,”

“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.”

“What does love mean for you?” she asked, curious and cautious.

“If there was any love in this world of mine, Lyla, it would be you.”

“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.”

His hand came to her hair, pulling her head back, as he looked down at her intently. “There will never be anyone else.” “Even if I choose another?” she asked, just to provoke him.

“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.”