Page 127 of Dark Souls

“So… who’s Ronnie?”

‘Oh no.’

I chewed at my bottom lip as I tried to gauge his reaction. He was unnervingly calm. Too still. Which only meant one thing. He was lethal.

“I take it you caught the tail end of my phone call?”

“That’s not an answer, love.”

I huffed, folding my arms over themselves on the table and met his fiery gaze. The smart thing to do would be to dismiss it and tell him Ronnie was no one knowing how this conversation could go one of two ways, but I couldn’t lie to him. I was trying to earn this man’s trust and if he found out Ronnie and I had been something in the past and I hadn’t told him, it would make everything so much worse. I didn’t want any secrets between us.

“He’s a family friend. A human who I fooled around with in the past. It was nothing serious, and now we are just friends.” I shrugged my shoulders, hoping my sincerity was enough for him, but of course, that was wishful thinking. His left eye twitched slightly. His jaw shifted to the side and back. But other than those little indicators of emotion, he remained in statue form, which only heightened my need to keep talking. “You have nothing to be jealous of. Or to be angry about. It was before I’d met you and like I said, it was very casual. More transactional than anything.”

“Transactional?” he questioned, his voice disturbingly deep. Fuck, why did I say that? “How so?”

I groaned and dropped my head in my arms. “I just mean, there were no feelings attached. Not on my side.”

“But there were on his? How recent was this past transactional relationship?”

‘Urgh, just stop talking, Ilaria. You are making it worse!’

“Luka. Does it matter? Like I said, it was before you and you should know that I would never look at another man like that ever again now that—” I stopped talking because that wasn’t exactly true, was it? Some part of me still wanted Heathen. Still craved him. Thought of him. I was deeply excited and intrigued by him, which I knew was wrong.

Luka suddenly stood up and walked towards me. I lifted my head as he placed his hands on the desk and leaned forward, our faces inches apart.

“It doesn’t matter, love. Not anymore. Because you are mine. Not his.” The rough grip of his hand on my jaw sent a shiver down my spine as he leaned in, his domineering kiss leaving me stunned and slightly dazed. When he released my lips, he placed a swift kiss on my forehead. “I’ll leave you to it. Let you focus.”

He stood up straight, and I allowed my gaze to take one last tempting sweep of his body before he stalked out of the room. Collapsing back into the chair, I found myself completely surprised by how well he dealt with that conversation until he called out from the stairs, “But if I ever have to meet him, love, knowing he’s been inside you, I will kill him.”

“Luka!” I bellowed. “You will not touch him! He is just a friend and I care about him!”

“You know… you saying that only makes me want to kill him more?”

Urgh. Impossible.

Hours later, I dropped the heavy book back down on the desk and tied my hair up in a messy bun on top of my head. My brain was about to explode. If I had to decipher any more Latin, I think I might just blow my brains out.

Apart from last night’s quick trip to Heroux, I hadn’t even left the room other than to bathe. I’d been at this for two solid days and found very little about who Luka was or what the Knowlton coven wanted with him. But I had spotted the Latin for Demonski Upir in some books. I sent Calli screenshots of pages, asking her to translate them for me, so all was not lost. The quiet of the room often lulled me to sleep, and I’d wake up to find Luka carrying me upstairs to bed long after midnight. Though sleep wasn’t much of rejuvenation, as more memories of Luka’s past emerged each time. More tortures at the hands of the Knowltons. Sweet memories of his loving family before whatever happened to them ripped them apart. The most rewarding was his massacre of the entire coven single-handedly in the dead of the night. Pure bloodthirst and vengeance had spurred him on. And who had he left until last? Belladonna Knowlton. The twisted pleasure of his grip on her neck, the exhilarating rush of power as he dangled her over the cliff edge, the satisfaction in watching fear consume her before she plummeted. In my opinion, it was far too kind of a death. However, I kept that opinion to myself.

Knowing he was a massive distraction for me, Luka made himself scarce most of the day, banging things around upstairs mainly, but sometimes he’d sit on a laptop on the sofa in complete silence. At night, he always left for a few hours. I never asked him where he went. There was no point. He couldn’t tell me. One time, he’d only gone to a shop to get me some food. Food that I didn’t have the heart to tell him I wasn’t in the least bit interested in. But it was the thought that counted.

I rubbed my stinging eyes from the lack of undisturbed sleep and tried to focus again. Luka tried to convince me to take breaks, but I refused. The obsessive, stubborn as hell trait in me to uncover the mysteries was in full force and nothing would stop me. I was getting closer. I could feel it.

Rain started pelting against the glass and I glanced out the window to see the beginnings of a storm. I smiled, closing my eyes briefly and dropping my head back to dull my thoughts and clear my mind. The soothing sound as the rain grew more turbulent felt so inviting. Impulsively, I listened to that urge, pushing the chair back and dashed for the front door. I needed fresh air.

I raced down the unstable veranda steps and out onto the cliff, only wearing one of Luka’s oversize hoodies and my over-the-knee socks. With my arms stretched out wide, I threw my head back and stared up at the gloomy skies as the clouds cried their refreshing tears down on my face.

“What are you doing?” Luka shouted from the entrance hall, staring at me with bewilderment as I spun in a circle and laughed.

“Enjoying the storm. Come and join me!”

When he made no attempt to move, I opened my eyes and dropped my arms. My hair was sticking to my forehead and my hoodie was growing heavier by the second, but I didn’t care. This was my happy place. This was my calm. I wanted Luka to experience it, too. I reached out my hand, but he slowly shook his head. His eyes moved past me to the murky horizon.

“I can’t.”

“Don’t tell me you’re afraid of a little thunder and lightning?” I shouted over the rumbling skies.

“Ilaria. Come inside. I can’t protect you out there, and I don’t like it.” He approached the door but paused, his hands balling into fists.

---