Page 43 of Untamed

“Can I...?” My voice falters. Bianca nods before I even finish the question.

She takes the necklace from my shaking hands and moves behind me. I lift my hair, and she fastens the clasp gently at the nape of my neck, her fingers lingering there for a second longer than necessary.

When I turn back around, she’s blinking furiously against the tears welling in her eyes.

“It suits you,” she says softly.

I reach up and touch the locket, the cool metal pressing into my skin, a tether to something solid, something real.

A piece of Mum, still with me.

Still with us.

Without thinking, I lean into Bianca’s arms, and she holds me tightly, as if affixing us both to the only thing we have left, each other.

And for the first time since the accident, the crushing weight in my chest eases just a little bit.

It’s just past one in the morning. The night air is balmy, heavy, thick with the sweet, cloying scent of gardenias and the faint salt tang from the sea. Somewhere deep inside the Russo manor, the last echoes of laughter and clinking glasses fade into silence.

It seems everyone else in the manor has found sleep, but I can’t.

The walls of my bedroom feel like they’re pressing in, suffocating me. So, I slip out quietly, barefoot, my breath held tight in my chest as I creep up the marble stairs and push open the door leading to the rooftop terrace.

The cool breeze kisses my skin the moment I step outside. Above me, the stars are scattered like spilled diamonds across a velvet sky. I stop for a moment, close my eyes and inhale deeply.

The pool glows under the moonlight, silver and still, a mirror to another world, one I wish I could fall into and never come back from.

Without thinking, without caring, I strip down to my underwear and slide into the water. The shock of the cold catches my breath for a moment, but then it soothes something raw inside me. I float on my back, the silence wrapping around me like a fragile cocoon.

For the first time in days, the ache in my chest softens.

My eyes close, enjoying the silence.

And then I hear it.

A door slamming open.

My eyes snap open. Shit, is someone up here? I push myself upright and look around, but no one is there. My eyes catch movement across the terrace, near a set of glass doors leading to one of the private suites.

Fuck. Is that—Oh God, it’s Ares and he’s with awoman.

I swim to the edge of the infinity pool to get a better look. Ares is shirtless, his body gleaming under the moonlight. A canvas of dark tribal tattoos and brutal muscle. The woman is clinging to him, her shapely legs wrapped around his waist, her arms tangled around his neck. They kiss like they’re starving for each other, desperate, messy, almostviolent.

I freeze in the water, my heart stuttering painfully against my ribs. I should look away. I should swim back to the far side of the pool, slip back inside the manor, and pretend I never saw any of this.

But I can’t. I can’t bloody move. Can’t catch my damn breath.

Ares shoves the woman against the doorframe with a roughness that would terrify anyone else, but she seems to enjoy it, clutching at him harder.

He tears her dress open with a savage rip, baring her to the night. The fabric falls away like water, pooling at her waist. His hands are brutal, claiming, squeezing, punishing. There’s no gentleness in the way he touches her. No tenderness in the way his mouth crushes hers.

I press my palm against my mouth, silencing the sound building in my throat. Not a cry, or a gasp, but something darker, needier. A heady heat coils deep in my core.

Ares spins the woman to face the wall, yanking her arms up over her head, holding her there with one hand braced against the back of her neck.

He doesn’t say anything.

I don’t see him whispering sweet words or promises. He just frees himself from his black jeans with a flick of his wrist. I see him pull out a condom and tear the wrapper with his teeth, and then he’s inside her, thrusting deep and hard. I can’t hear him from where I am, but I imagine a low snarl tearing from his throat.

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