Page 6 of Empress of Ruin
“Hello, Little Bird.” Killian’s words may sound innocuous enough, but I know what probably comes next. He’s going to kill me.
The only question ishowhe’ll go about it.
The cemetery is abandoned—no one else is around. We’re pretty far in upstate New York, and the nearest hint of civilization is a town a few miles away. There will be no one around to hear my screams.
“How?” my words are scarcely a whisper.
One of Killian’s eyebrows twitch with amusement. “I’m afraid you’ll need to be more specific. How did I find you? How am I going to punish you? How many infractions have you racked up over the lastfive months?”
A shudder of fear works its way up my spine. Memories flash through my mind—the night when he made the tape, without telling me. The night when he broke into my apartment, and I was certain he was there to kill me. I thought I’d experienced true terror then; it’s nothing,nothingcompared to what I feel now.
Then, the crime I committed was talking to someone. Now, I’ve published proof of his misdeeds for the entire fucking world to see.
“How are you going to kill me?”
“Kill you?” Killian’s head tilts to the side, as if the thought never crossed his mind.As if.
Why else would he be here? I went out of my way to ruin his reputation. I might’ve failed spectacularly—by all accounts, his business dealings swiftly recovered—but I did my best, and I know I struck a damn good blow, even if his PR team handled it.
AndI ran away from him after miscarrying the child he seemed very eager to have.
I have trouble envisioning a scenario where Idon’tend up dead.
“Is that why you ran?” he wonders aloud. “Because you thought I’d kill you?”
“It was one of many factors.”
“I see.” He nods slowly, digesting this information. “I have no intention of killing you, Lyra.”
He’s lying. Or, if he’s not, then the alternative—a lifetime of punishment for my infractions?—is worse. Much,muchworse. Death is an end. Being alive to suffer… that’s a fateworsethan death.
My eyes dart around the cemetery. Icouldmake a run for it. I might not succeed—in fact, I’ll probably fail—but at least I’d go down fighting. At least I’d preserve my dignity.
“Careful,” Killian says. “I wouldn’t do whatever’s flitting through that very pretty head of yours, Lyra. The cemetery is surrounded by men loyal tome. The shitty car you rented to bring you here is no longer available for use. Now, youcouldrun… but the result would be I’d bend you over the nearest headstone and turn your ass so red you wouldn’t be able to sit for a fuckingweek.”
I meet his eyes again, gauging his sincerity. He’s dead serious. If I step a toe out of line, he’ll do exactly that.
Not for the first time, my fear of Killian wins out over my instincts of self-preservation.
“I believe we’re about five months overdue for a conversation.” He runs a hand down his tie. I track the gesture, recalling what those hands were capable of doing.
Spanking me until I cried, yes, but also making me come until I passed out. Perversely, my nipples harden, and heat sweeps through me.
How?How can he possibly have this goddamn effect on menow?When I’m still reasonably sure that this encounter will end up with my corpse being buried in an unmarked grave or thrown into the ocean to feed the fish?
Am I really that fucked up?
“Now, you of course have a choice on how you approach this conversation.” Killian glances around the graveyard. “Several choices, actually. First, you can make a run for it. I’ll catch you and follow through on my promise. If you instead choosenotto run, your options are to take my hand willingly and walk with me, or be stubborn, at which point I’ll move you by force. Once we’re in my car—and be assured that wewillget there—you can either have a civil conversation with me and accept what I do to you, or you can ignore me and fight. Now, all of these decisions will determine the next several weeks for you, but they won’t ultimately change the outcome. You are coming home with metoday. You will not be leaving my sight for the foreseeable future. And you will tell meeverythingyou’ve been up to from the moment you slipped away.”
My lips part in the wake of his speech. He speaks with a sort of calm, confident authority that indicates his assurance that everything will go according to his plans. It fills me with the sort of indignance thatdemandsa fight. Even if I lose, I have to fight. Even if it means I have more pride than sense, I can’t just gently go along with his plans. I probably should, but I can’t.
“Gofuckyourself, Killian. You don’t own me, and younever will.”
He smiles. “I was hoping you’d say that.”
I barely hear his words; I’m already spinning on my heel and making a dash for it, adrenaline surging through me. The grass crunches under my feet, and the dense fog makes it difficult to choose my next footstep carefully, but nevertheless, I sprint. I can’t just give in. I can’t—
His hand closes around the back of my neck before I’ve made it ten feet. I let out a piercing scream and jerk away from him, but he bands an arm around my midsection, plastering my back to his front.
