Page 92 of Black Castle

“Sure, Aiko,” she corrects, the smile back on her lips. “How old was Aiko when your Ma left?”

“Seven months.”

Sasha waits a bit as if thinking of the next question to ask.

“So, Zev.” She scribbles down something again. “What do you think brings him out?”

“Fear, stress, anger?” His brows furrow in irritation. “He enjoys thriving on the things I normally don’t like.”

“Before you met her, have you ever wanted to get rid of Zev?” she asks.

“No.”

“What’s her name?”

“Vivienne.”

“So you are trying to get rid of Zev for Vivienne, correct?” She leans into her chair.

“I just want to protect her,” he confesses. I want to keep her to myself.

The image of Vivienne flashes before his eyes, and a feeling of yearning settles deep in his chest. He flips his wrist, glancing at his watch. It’s a quarter past twelve. He wonders what she’s up to now. He can’t wait to see her again. He can’t wait to hold her. He can’t wait to kiss her.

He can’t wait to do whatever she wants with her.

There is a gentle thud when the therapist settles her pen and her notepad down on the coffee table. Lucan’s attention returns reluctantly to her.

“What if I told you getting rid of Zev won’t solve anything yet?”

Lucan’s jaw works, irritation licking at his chest.

“If I can’t get rid of him, what’s the point of coming here?”

“To understand Zev,” she says calmly. “Only then can you control if he stays or goes. Just understand him first. Why he is there and what he wants.”

Lucan leans into the chair. “I’m not sure if I should really trust you.”

“You don’t have to,” she says. “Just keep showing up for your sessions.”

But Lucan isn’t sure if he wants to go on with these so-called sessions. It all feels weird and daunting, and seems to be a long-term process. He wants something immediately, a quick snap to silence and dominate Zev. Time is running out. He can feel it. The next time he makes a mistake of losing control, Zev will take over. And he will never surrender again.

He needs to stop it before it happens. There has to be another way to get rid of Zev.

The moment Lucan pushes open his door, he catches it—her scent. It’s like a summer breeze tangled in a lavender field.

His pulse thrums, heat sparking in his chest.

She’s here.

Shutting the door behind him, he scans the room, eyes hungry, searching. The living room is empty, but the television hums with a Turkish TV series.

Then, his bedroom door creaks open and she steps out, her lips curling into a soft smile.

“Hey.” Her voice slides over him like silk. “You went out?”

“Yeah.” He walks further into the room, pulling his phone out of the pocket and tossing gently on the coffee table.

“Okay.” She steps closer, slow, the heat of her body wrapping around him before she even touches him. When her arms drape over his shoulders, fingertips playing at the nape of his neck, the heat inside him ignites.

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