Page 35 of The Devil's Wrath

“My truth?” I asked. “What do you know about my truth?”

“I know you’re running from something. I see it in your eyes. You’re haunted by your past, just like I am.”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” I said, hoping my voice had more conviction than I felt.

He reached out and twirled a piece of hair in his fingers. “Don’t I? We’ve both been touched by the shadows and marked by the darkness that lurks beneath the surface of this world.”

“What darkness? You’re talking in riddles.”

“The kind of darkness that changes you. That leaves scars that never fade.”

Flashes of the flames burning my flesh flickered through my mind. I swallowed hard as I tried to ignore not only the memories of that night but also the way my body responded to his proximity. “And what makes you think that kind of darkness has touched me?”

When his fingers brushed against my cheek, tracing my jawline, I shivered involuntarily. “Because I recognize the signs. The way you flinch at sudden movements, the way you’re always on guard. Always ready to run.”

I pulled away from his touch. “You’re wrong. You don’t know me at all.”

He stepped back but kept his eyes fixed on mine. “I know a lot more than you think,Wrenly.”

Wrenly.

My heart jumped into my throat.

How does he know my real name?

“Wh-what did you just call me?” I whispered almost imperceptibly.

His gaze held mine, unwavering. “Wrenly Morgan. That’s your real name, isn’t it? But the real question is, why did you lie to me and tell me your name was Raven?”

I didn’t know why I had lied to him. It wasn’t like I’d expected anything to come of him and me. Hell, when I’d given him that name, I hadn’t even thought I would see him after that night. How could I have known he would make it his life’s mission to find me? So why wasn’t I upset that he had seen right through me? Maybe I’d given him the wrong name because I’d subconsciously known precisely who he was and that he would recognize who I was too.

I clenched my fists, fighting the urge to turn around and run as fast as I could from him, but instead, I did something dangerous. “If you know so much about me, then tell me: why would I lie about my name?”

He made sure there was no space between us, pressing his body into mine,his eyes never leaving mine as he spoke in a low, almost hypnotic voice. “Because you were afraid that telling me who you are means accepting the darkness in your soul and admitting that the demons inside of you are calling out for my demons. The minute our eyes met, you found something worth living for again. I’ve seen the scars, Wrenly—the ones etched on your soul. The ones that only someone who shares the same darkness can recognize. And admitting who you really are means you accept that our fates were intertwined long before either of us realized it.”

My breath caught in my throat as he traced a finger along the collar of my dress, his touch featherlight against my skin. “Stop,” I whispered, but my voice had no conviction.

He leaned in and brushed his lips against my ear. “You can’t run from what you are. From what we are. We’re the same, you and me. Two broken souls drawn together and haunted by the devil.”

I wanted to turn away. To turn away from him and the undeniable truth he spoke. I wanted to deny the connection between us, but I couldn’t. Not when every fiber of my being screamed at me to give in to the darkness that called to me from within him. The truth was, ever since the night of the fight, I had felt this inexplicable pull toward him. The kind that was irrational and defied all logic on this earth. The kind that the universe sent to you when you least expected it. And whether or not I cared to admit it out loud, my life felt a little more manageable with him in it, in whatever capacity I had him.

It felt . . . right.

But I still had questions.

“And what exactly are we, Devil?”

His eyes flashed with an emotion I couldn’t quite decipher. “Fallen. We are destined to burn together in the flames of our own making.”

“You think you have it all figured out, don’t you?” I challenged. “That you can just waltz into my life and claim to understand thedepths of my soul? Just because you can spin words into something pretty, doesn’t mean you understand me.”

He chuckled softly. “I don’t claim to understand everything about you, little bird. I recognize what hides inside you because it mirrors what hides inside me.” His fingers had drifted down my neck and rested on the top of my breasts as he stroked a button on my dress almost playfully.

My brain felt euphoric, a combination of the alcohol and the intoxication of his presence.

“Is that so? And what do you propose we do about it?” I asked, my voice breathless.

His lips curved into a wicked smile. “Embrace it. Why fight it when we can revel in it?”

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