Read episode 3 here: https://bit.ly/shatteredspirit3
Our eyes clash.
His eyes smolder.
Time fucking stops.
Dear lord, the guy I remember had been soft compared to what’s standing before me now.
And he’d already been recruited.
He’d already been trained. Set loose upon the world.
Drenched his hands in more blood than most people will ever comprehend.
Kane is ten times more beautiful than I remembered, though.
More delicious than my dreams had recalled.
His tongue wets his lips, and those light irises caress my body.
My nipples harden. Every bit of my consciousness zeroes in on the hard peaks, on how they strain toward him and ache for his touch.
His eyes drop down to my chest; they widen and threaten to scorch my very being as they freeze right there.
He can see them through my dress.
That tongue peeks out again, and he bits his full bottom lip. “‘Enna,” he growls quietly, taking a step toward me.
“Don’t call me that. Don’t you ever call me that again.” The first words I utter to him in four years, and they’re shaky, breathless. What are you doing, idiot? Move back. Move back now! Oh . . . oh God . . . He smells even better than I remembered, too.
My lips part on an exhale. I force my weak legs to take a step back away from him.
He’s threatening my mission. If my target—my boyfriend—sees me with Kane right now, everything will be ruined.
My cover might just get blown.
As far as I know, Kane doesn’t know I’m part of Sector Nineteen yet—the same organization his family has been a part of for over seven generations.
But if he doesn’t know, how did he find me here? Did someone in the sector give my location away to him?
I need to escape him, somehow, yet my brain can’t think of anything but touching him.
And I know that’s obvious.
The sounds of the party continue to drift around us as he forces me backward.
The irony isn’t lost on me. This time he’s the one doing the stalking.
And all I can do, despite years of combative and self-defense training, is feebly back away.
You're pathetic, Noir! Pa-the-tic! Rage and lust tangle inside me.
Heartbreak, my now closest friend, is always there. Has been for years now.
And it’s all his fucking fault.