Page 165 of Aftershock
No!
He flattens my cheek on the counter. It’s cool against my skin, but I hardly feel it. Alaric’s hand is the only thing that exists in my world. That, and the mind-numbing terror that clutches me.
“What the hell?” I whisper-yell. Even at a time like this, I refuse to make a scene. The last thing either of us needs is his neighbors calling the cops. “Why?”
“You’re trying to get me to release you.” His chest expands with each labored breath. “Convincing me you’re worse than I am when you’re so goddamn adorable. Jesus Christ. Some stalking? Stolen boxers and depraved orgasms? It fucking flatters me.”
“Are you serious?” Pressing my hands against the counter gets me nowhere. Alaric’s strength is unmatched. “What’s cute about committing a crime? A handful of them?”
His expression hardens, eyes shuttering. “You and I both know that everything you listed is a far cry from murder.”
God, he’s infuriating. “A justified killing isn’t the same as cold-blooded murder.”
“Enough. It’s too soon for you to be okay with who I am.” It’s a statement, one he’s determined to believe in, regardless of what I say or do. “You can’t possibly go back to loving me so soon. Even if you already found out about it. Not yet.”
“I never stopped.” A tear slips free. The pressure on my nape is light, painless. But my heart—fuck. I have to help him out of the hole he’s dug himself into. So far, I’m failing him. “I’m not manipulating you, either, I swear.”
“Don’t worry, Lilith.” He leans over me, reaching somewhere I can’t see.
My eyes fly open at thewhooshsound.
What is he doing?
“I’ll make you love me again. Make you realize I’m worthy of you, flawed and all.” Alaric straightens to his full height, a knife clutched in his hand. “Starting with this.”
Shock hollows me out. My face goes numb. Even breathing feels delayed.
“No, no, no,” I whisper, my voice breathy. “No. Stop. Put it down.”
“I need to show you.” His attention is fixed on my face as he pins the tip of the blade just below his ribs. “Need you to see how far I’ll go for you. That we belong together.”
He’s going to hurt himself. Why? What? I don’t get it. Is this penance?
What fucking for?
“Alaric!”
“I love you.”
He dips his chin, his eyes fixed on his stomach.
The knife nicks his skin.
A drop of blood runs down his abdomen, catching in his sweatpants.
“Please, stop.” I cry harder than ever before. “You don’t deserve it. I know you love me. I don’t need you to do this.”
“Yes, you do.” He drags the knife down, breaking skin in a vertical line. More blood soaks the waistband. It’s not much. He won’t die. Still. Ithurts. “I’m giving it to you gladly. I’ll do anything for you.”
Both of us watch as he draws a new line beside the first one, shorter and set just to its right. Then he adds a small line, practically a dot, above it.
Two letters bleed across his stomach.
li
“Stop, please.” My vision blurs around the edges. I’m so worried, I think I’m going to pass out. “I don’t need you to bleed for me. Alaric. Stop.”
“I’m not just bleeding, little devil.” He doesn’t flinch when he carves another long line right next to the last one. “I’m branding your name on my skin.”
