Page 53 of Empress of Ruin
His words shock me to silence. I stare at him wide-eyed, unable to conjure words. His insinuation that he’ll kill a man for me should be completely repulsive, but instead, it’s… almost flattering. Again, I question what man will go to this lengths for a woman he’s claimed.
Killian King. That’s who. And even though I’m sitting in a police interrogation room, immobile, afraid, and powerless, the realization of just how far he’ll go to avenge me makes me feel phenomenally powerful.
“Killian,” I say slowly, “I’m pretty sure this room is bugged. Maybe talking about your intent to…”
“The cameras and audio recordings were turned off before I came in,” he says, waving a hand. His eyes are still on my ankle, and still filled with the sort of rage that makes me very, very nervous for the officer that arrested me.
Doesn’t that prick deserve it, though?He called me a liar when I said I couldn’t walk, and dragged me to the police carregardless, shoving me in. He made me endure an embarrassing strip-search before coming into this room, withhimleering at me instead of a female officer. I could barely dress myself afterwards, and he kept rolling his eyes and telling me faking pain wouldn’t make things any better.
He's a shitty cop. Who am I to prevent Killian from doing what he will with a shitty cop?
I drop my head into my hands. God, a short time back with Killian, and my morals are already bending and twisting. I have to get away from him… excepthow?
I tried. I failed, miserably, and only got myself hurt in the process. How am I meant tosuccessfullyescape him when I have a screwed up ankle, a screwed up head, and no real idea how I’m going to stay gone this time around? He’s proven that he’ll go to every extreme to keep me.
How often can a woman say that about a man?
“This looks bad.” Killian gestures at my foot. “Let’s go home. I’ll call a doctor.”
Home. A gilded prison with a pair of golden handcuffs. A place I have contemplated setting on fire more than once.
“Do you even understand why I left?” I ask quietly. “Can you comprehend what pushed me to that extreme?”
It takes a long time for Killian to answer. “I might be starting to, yes.”
A doctor is waiting for us when we arrive back to Killian’s penthouse.Is it our penthouse, now?He examines me in the living room, then diagnoses me with a bad sprain. He furnishes me with a pair of crutches and advises me to stay off my foot fortwo weeks. Killian says they probably won’t be necessary since he intends to carry me everywhere, but allows it nonetheless.
Allows.As if I have no say in my own health.
After the doctor’s wrapped up my ankle and given me with explicit instructions to rest, sleep, take medication, and give my body time to recover, he leaves. Then, it’s just me and Killian, and the oppressive walls of the penthouse.
“I have a place in Connecticut,” he says mildly, tapping around on his phone. “It’s a nice house. You’ll like it. I think we should stay there for the time being.”
And be evenmoreisolated from society? “No, thank you.”
“It wasn’t an actual question.” Killian looks up from his phone. “I’ll make the arrangements tomorrow.” He carries me to the bathroom, seats me on the counter, and draws me a bath. My mind flashes back to a different time when I was in this position. The night I was mugged, after Locke saved me and brought me here. Killian was almost gentle and good to me that night, until he did a 180 and called me filth.
I wonder if there’s any part of him that still believes that.
“I’ll need to cancel our social calendar for the next few weeks,” he sighs.
“I’m sorry for presenting such an inconvenience,” I say sarcasticallly.
“You’re lucky I’m taking it easy on you, or you’d be facing consequences for your brave words.”
I sigh, head lowering. “We can’t keep going in circles like this,” I murmur. “The isolation, our incompatibility… it’s destroying pieces of me.” I let out a short, sharp laugh. “I know what I did tonight was impulsive and ridiculous; two words I wouldn’t use to describe myself. But this… ourdynamicis driving me to insanity.” The raw truth spills out of me, completely unfiltered.
“I know,” Killian says quietly, almost softly. My head snaps up, surprise flashing through my features. When he sees myexpression, he releases a sardonic laugh. “Do you think I’m blind, Lyra? Or stupid? I know I’m difficult to deal with. I amnotan easy man. I’m complex, morally black, and callous. Butyou, Little Bird…” he abandons the bathtub and walks up to me. Gently spreads my legs, mindful not to jar my ankle, and braces his hands on either side of me. “You own me. Not a piece of me, but all of me. And owning me comes with the consequence of me also owning you.”
“I don’t want to be owned,” I say softly. “I want to have achoice.” My eyes prickle, stinging with the threat of oncoming tears. “What do you think would’ve happened if we’d met at a coffee shop? Or a bar? If whatever this is between us didn’t start out with coercion or blackmail?”
“You’d have still turned me down on account of my arrogance and ego, and I would’ve still ended up…persuadingyou to go out with me. I still would’ve told myself that you were a passing infatuation, until you weren’t.” His lips twist into a dark smile. “Our story wasn’t meant to start out as a tale of love. It was always going to be dark. But one thing you refuse to acknowledge is that you have the same darkness within you as the one I have inside of me. We’re both cut from the same cloth.”
I tense. “No, we’re—”
“Don’t disagree. It’s true. You enjoy the things I do to you, even if you think they’re wrong. You weren’t built to be a colony ant, Lyra. You were always destined to be a queen. If you’d stop fighting me and running from me for thirty seconds, you might recognize that.” He tucks a piece of hair behind my ear. “We’re so similar it still sometimes baffles me.”
“Excuse me?” I snap. “I’mnothinglike you—”
