Page 27 of Betrothed in Fury
10
LOGAN
As the bloodruns off me, winding and twisting before spiraling into the drain, I feel so naked and exposed. Partly because I’m sure Killian has security cameras in this room and is likely watching me right now. But mostly because of what he saw me do tonight.
Had I been thinking with my rational mind, I might have insisted on bringing Sik Vik back to Hayward. Or that Killian give us privacy. Not that there’s anything I could do to control that bastard.
But angry as I am, I’m also impressed. He’s too smart for me, as indicated by how his taste lingers on my tongue. And though Jaime showed me where the spare toothbrushes and toothpaste are, I don’t bother to immediately wash his taste off because maybe it’s not as bad as I initially thought.
I finish rinsing off, then grab the towel from the hanger just outside the walk-in shower. When I finish drying, I wrap the towel around my waist and head to the sink, fetching the toothbrush and toothpaste. I avoid my reflection for as long as I can, but I finally break.
I see the man I truly am. Have always been. My father’s son. This creature I try to hide from the world, and I’ve done such a good job, but not with Killian. Now he’s seen the truth. If only I could have tempered these wicked impulses for a night.
Yet there’s so much relief in having given in and avenged my brother. It was more than that, though. It was vengeance against that fateful blood-splattered day at Hayward, and the loss of myparents, and all the days of being forced to live a life I never wanted. It was the desperate cry of a man in so much agony and despair.
And for that weakness, I hate myself.
*
The following morning,I wake to discover spare clothes on the end of the bed—jeans and a tee. The clothes I arrived in have been taken, as well as my phone and shoes. I suspect Killian had an ulterior motive. I would have grabbed them and snuck out, but he didn’t want me to leave. Not when he was the one who suggested breakfast. Whether I want to or not, I must face him.
I discover Krychek in the hall—he must’ve replaced Jaime for the morning shift. I’m still pissed at the guy for pulling a knife on me, and there’s this innate desire to get revenge against him, though I know what I’d do to Killian if he fucked with my staff, so I stifle the impulse. I can’t risk getting on Killian’s bad side.
Krychek leads me through the intricate halls and stairwells of dark gray walls decorated with eerie, nude Grecian statues, oversize urns, and chandeliers made of horns and antlers. The mortality-obsessed aesthetic makes me feel like I’m being guided through a layer of hell—I assume that’s as Old Terror intended it. Very different from the more traditional style of Hayward, which suited my dad—and me—much more.
When we arrive at the kitchen, we discover Killian standing at the range, cooking. He doesn’t look over as Krychek pulls out a chair for me.
“I should go,” I say. “I need to check on my brother.”
“I already checked, and he’s fine.”
“What?”
“You think I don’t have contacts at the Center?”
Fair enough.
“And you should get a good meal in you before heading out,” he adds.
It’s strange that he wanted me to eat with him, and he’s already in the middle of cooking, making me wonder… “Did you know I was awake?”
“Of course. I have cameras set up all over that room.”
I knew it.
“So you watched me shower?”
His gaze locks with mine. “I did.”
I don’t know why, after everything that’s happened,thatof all things bothers me, but it does. Still, nothing he saw in the shower could’ve been worse than what he saw when I brutally murdered Sik Vik. He knows what I am. There’s no hiding from him.
So I sit at the kitchen table.
“I’m making omelets. Peppers, onions, spinach, and pepperjack cheese. Anything you’d prefer instead?”
I want to tell him to take his omelet and shove it, but that sounds so good, and I’m fucking starving. “That’ll be fine,” is as much as I give him.
I wait in silence as he plates the omelet with bacon, sausage links, and some sort of roasted root-vegetable mix.
