Page 47 of Born Chaos

“You disappeared on me, Juliet,” he says tightly. “What was I supposed to do?”

“Calm the hell down and wait for me to be ready to talk to you again!” I bark. I throw a hand up, every muscle in my body tensing. “I mean, you even tore the club apart.”

“I thought he was hiding you, and apparently I was right,” Sebastian seethes. “When did you start sleeping with him?”

It’s an instinct from my past. Violence. It was what I employed when I had to survive. And now it’s my heart that won’t survive.

I’m right in front of Sebastian in a flash, and I slap him, with everything I have in me, across the face.

A roar of pain and anger rips from him, and with a flash of red eyes and fangs, he catches my wrist, yanking me into him.

But the next second, Sebastian is pinned to the ground, and I’m staggering to the side.

Roman kneels with one knee on Sebastian’s chest. In his hand, he holds a stake pressed tightly against Sebastian’s chest. His own eyes are glowing brilliantly red, black veins streaking all over his face. His fangs are bared, and an animalistic noise that’s somewhere between a growl and a hiss reverberates in his chest.

“Touch her again, and it will be the last thing you do, doctor,” Roman says, and his voice doesn’t sound like anything on this planet.

“I was faithful to you, Sebastian,” I say, my words coming out broken. “And I would have been to the end. You and I were good. But something got twisted along the way. Somewhere, something went wrong. Because this isn’t love anymore. It hasn’t been for a little while. There’s a difference between love and possession. And you lost sight of it.”

Tears prick in my eyes. My throat feels too tight to breathe. I can feel it. I’m going to fall apart. And it’s going to come quickly.

So I step forward. I grip the finger on my left hand, and I feel my heart break. I see it in Sebastian’s eyes as I pull it off. The panic. The terror. The realization that this is happening.

“Juliet, don’t,” he practically whispers. “Please.”

“You don’t own me, Sebastian,” I say quietly.

Just as I’m about to drop the ring into his hand, Sebastian erupts. He swings his elbow to connect with Roman’s jaw, knocking him to the side just enough so he can scramble to his feet.

“Don’t say it’s over, Juliet,” Sebastian says as he steps toward me. There’s something unhinged in his eyes. “We were made to be together. We can fix this.”

Just as he lunges at me, Roman wraps his arm around Sebastian’s throat, and in the same instant, Elena plows into him from the side, sending all three of them to the ground.

“Touch her again, and you die,” Elena hisses in Sebastian’s face. She wraps a hand around his throat, snapping his head back against the concrete. “I think Roman made that very clear.”

“Stay the hell out of this!” Sebastian roars. He struggles against her, but Roman steps a foot on his chest, pinning him to the ground. “Juliet! Let’s talk this out. Just you and me.”

I shake my head as I meet his eyes. “We’ve said everything that needs to be said. We’ll need to figure the work situation out. But not until you’ve found your mind again. Until then, leave me the hell alone.”

I toss the ring at him, and with a look of utter disbelief, he catches it.

“Unless there’s anything else, I think you should go,” Elena says.

I stand there for a moment. If I walk away, what is going to happen? Will Sebastian continue fighting them? Will he hurt either of them?

But as I meet Roman’s eyes, I see it there. They’ll deal with Sebastian. I need to leave.

So as tears spring from my eyes, as my grief finally chokes the oxygen from my throat, I turn. And in the snow, in the dark, I walk away, hating the man I loved most, fulfilling Archer King’s prophesy.

CHAPTERFOURTEEN

“It comeswith access to the pool, and there’s always a doorman on duty,” the real estate agent says as we walk through the apartment.

It’s nice, though a little blah. It’s close enough to work, far enough I don’t feel like Sebastian will be staring through my windows.

“This is not the place,” Elena says, barely containing the sneer.

“You don’t get to decide that,” I remind her. “But you’re right. I don’t think this is the place.”