Page 188 of Brutal

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My pulse pounds in my ears.

This ring opens this lock. Or helps open it. Or it’s part of the system that does.

And Samson wears it every day like a piece of jewelry.

The realization moves through me slowly and all at once.

Samson is not only connected to this door. Samson is part of the lock. Or the key. Or both.

I lower my hand. Then lift it again.

I’m so tempted. So beyond curious. If I open this now, I might finally see the part of him he kept back. The forbidden chamber. The one closed room in the beast’s castle he said not to touch.

I hover there for several seconds, ring raised, my body taut.

Then I see his face in my mind.

Not the savage one.

The one from last night when I said I love you too and he looked at me like the world had shifted under his feet.

He didn’t lie to me.

He didn’t spin what he’d done into something noble.

He told me the truth and let me decide what to do with it.

And I decided.

If I open this door now—if I force it while he sleeps—I’m not choosing truth.

I’m choosing to violate his trust.

The beast let me into his heart. That doesn’t mean I get to steal the rest.

I close my eyes.

This isn’t the right time.

The words land inside me with surprising force.

I lower the ring and take a full step back from the door.

The pull doesn’t disappear. The temptation is still there. But I won’t succumb. Not yet, anyway.

I turn away and start back down the corridor.

I’m halfway back when something else catches my eye.

A seam.

Almost invisible in the wall paneling beside the stairs. Too clean to be natural. Too deliberate to ignore.

I stop and bring my phone light closer. It looks like a small hidden compartment.

My pulse kicks up again.

This is not the door.

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