Kaida won't meet my gaze and I shake my head. "You are a woman, too, or does your status matter more to you than your son's obvious cruelty?"

She bares her teeth at me, no doubt to snarl at me, but I'm already taking the stairs, praying to the goddess that I made it back before the new guard shift. I had to make a brief stop to retrieve my cellphone from where I'd tossed it under a flowerbed on my way here to notify Eric of the change in plans. It had been a sneaky and scary twenty minutes of maneuvering like a damned spy, avoiding the cameras and guards, but I had gotten it done. Training with Soren turned out to be useful. Again.

I release a breath of relief when I reach my bedroom and find no guards outside. But it is short lived when I turn the knob and find Ronan glancing out my window.

The air in the bedroom is thick with something dark and dangerous, and for a moment I contemplate not entering and running. Before I can decide, Ronan turns around and I am choked by the darkness that rolls off him.

"Where were you?" he asks with deadly softness.

I try to calm my heartbeat. "I went for a walk. I couldn't sleep."

His eyes zero in on the state of my body and lips, the fresh sets of hickeys on my neck. He shuts his eyes and inhales.

Then he moves.

I don't catch sight of him, until he is in front of me. Until pain explodes on my right cheek, snapping my head back painfully. It takes me seconds to process it, and even longer to comprehend it.

Eyes wide, I bring my fingertips to my stinging cheek, tracing it down to my burst lip. I blink, staring at a panting Ronan.

Before I can recover from the shock, he grips my blouse and tears it open. Buttons scatter across the floors and cold air kisses my breasts, covered thinly by the lacy bra that still sits askew.

But that isn't what holds his attention. It is the dirt coating my clothes from sitting outside Soren's cell for hours and the track of dried blood from Soren's fingers that smear around my wrist where he'd held my hands and face in the dark, counting down the hours while we'd spoken about nothing and everything.

Ronan leans in, sniffing me.

A strangled sound rips from his throat. Somewhere between a laugh and a howl. His hands tremble, twitching like he doesn't know whether to cradle me or choke me.

"How long have you been visiting him without my permission?" When I don't respond, he yells, "I loved you when you were nothing! When you were broken, I held you. Even when you abandoned me, I waited for you. You were mine! And you let himtouch and fuck you like a street whore! Still, I gave you chances and this is what you do!"

He begins pacing, hands yanking through his hair, muttering as if he is fractured right down the middle. And then, he whirls, slamming his fist into the wall beside me until the knuckles split and blood drips onto the floor.

Then his eyes snap to mine, wide, manic, unhinged. The tears are there now, burning, too proud to fall. "I would've given you everything! You were supposed to be mine. You are mine."

He steps forward.

"Say it. Say you were confused. Say you made a mistake. Tell me it meant nothing.TELL ME!"

And just like that, something inside me snaps.

I straighten, jaw locking, heart pounding like a war drum in my ribs. My voice is shaking when I speak, but not from fear. From fury.

"He is my husband."

Ronan's eyes flash. "What?"

"I love him," I breathe, then louder, angrier. "He is my mate. And I belong only to him." My hands form fists, fingernails digging into my palms.

"And I would die before I ever took you back."

He blinks. Once. Like he wasn't expecting that to hurt. But I keep going, because he isn't the only one who is unraveling tonight.

"I remember everything." I shoot him an acidic smile at his horrified surprise. "I got my memories back a while ago, and youhave to know how disgusted I am by you. I look at you and I see everything you did. Everything you are. And I cannot fathom how I ever loved a man like you."

Ronan flinches, but I don't stop. My voice shakes with pent up rage, mental exhaustion and deep seated hate. "You throw away every good thing in your life because we're all just pieces to you—chess pieces on a board you think you can move around. And when you can't control something? You ruin it. Destroy it."

He is shaking, eyes reddened, veins close to popping, but I keep climbing, because if I don't let it out, it will shred me to pieces from inside. "Everything has to bend to your fucking will or it breaks you, doesn't it? That's what's really killing you, isn't it? That I'm something you can't own anymore."

He stares at me like I've stabbed him straight through and through, but I'm past the point of caring. I step forward, searching his eyes intently. "You want to know what they call people like you?" I whisper. "Fucking nutcases."