My eyes snapped open, my heart racing at the sound of Alaric's anguished cries. The soft glow of moonlight cast shadows on the walls, creating a haunting atmosphere in the dimly lit room. I searched frantically for the source of his pain, my gaze landing on him, writhing and murmuring on the bed.

Shock traveled through my body as I leaned over him. What demons hid behind those eyelids, torturing a man as strong and forceful as Alaric? Another cry escaped him, and I reached out to touch his face, hoping to soothe him from his nightmare.

"No..." he grunted, twisting his face. "Please, Atlas, don't take her with you," Alaric begged.

My heart ached as I cupped his jaw. "Wake up, Alaric. It's just a dream."

He shook his head. "Please..." His pleas broke my heart, and I clutched him tighter.

"Alaric, come back to me, please." I pressed my lips to his, praying the contact would wake him from the nightmare.

Suddenly, his writhing body stilled, and I breathed a sigh of relief.

In an instant, Alaric's sharp, dark eyes locked onto mine, and he twisted our bodies until I was beneath him. One strong, calloused hand wrapped around my throat, and a vacant look took over his features.

I blinked up at him, a shiver running down my spine. "Alaric?"

Confusion gripped him as he looked between my eyes and his grip on my neck. His nostrils flared when he realized our position, and he instantly moved away. Alaric's movements were edgy, and I could tell the nightmare that haunted his sleep lingered around us.

I tried to move toward him, but he pushed further back, sitting on the edge of the bed and running a hand down his beard. "Fuck, Vaela, I'm sorry."

I sat up slowly, my heart still pounding against my chest as my eyes locked onto him. Alaric's broad back was hunched, his muscles tense, rigid, as if he were still trying to fight off an invisible force. The room was still, the only sounds were our rapid breaths—uneven, shaky.

Afraid of his rejection, I remained rooted a meter away. "Alaric," I began, only to be cut short.

"Don't." The dark, sharp edge of his voice made me flinch. "Don't come closer, Vaela. I could've hurt you. I keep hurting you..." he murmured.

Tears formed in my eyes, and I fought to keep the tremble from my voice. "That's not true. You've never hurt me, Alaric." The vicious voices in my head returned, telling me I kept ruining the beautiful man before me, insisting he'd be better off without me. I pushed them away because he needed me and that took precedence over everything.

I wasn't the only one hurting, I realized just how broken Alaric truly was—a fragility I'd been oblivious to. Maybe my blindness came from the protective shield he had wrapped around me, so tight that I couldn't see just how damaged he was. Alaric protected me from all the evil in the world, including his own, and I couldn't bear it.

"I failed you. I couldn't shield you from the brutal hands of those men or Claire's vicious outbursts. Even the darkness in your mind, I cannot ease its torment."

My heart ached as I watched him retreat into himself, his eyes avoiding mine as if one look would be the final nail in his coffin. I couldn't let him distance himself any longer. I slipped off the bed and knelt before him on the plush carpet. His gaze remained fixed on his clenched fists, but I refused to let him shut me out.

"No, Alaric. You did protect me. You saved me from those monsters and gave me a reason to keep fighting. You are my reason for existing, Alaric. If only you could see just how much you've given me."

Alaric's jaw tightened, and a low growl rumbled from his chest as he ran his hands through his dark hair. "You don't understand. All I've done is drag you from the gates of hell right into its fiery pits. This world, my world, is cruel. It takes everything good and pure, Vaela. It'll take you from me."

I sighed, wrapping my hands over his. "Look at me," I commanded softly. "Please, baby, look at me."

Hesitantly, he lifted his gaze from the depths of his despair, and our eyes met. His vulnerability broke through all of my resolve, and I pulled him down to meet my lips. "You won't let it take me, Alaric. You won't let anyone take me from you, not even myself." I kissed the words into his skin.

I felt the tick of his jaw beneath my palms. "That's not true, Vaela..."

Before he could continue, I cut him off, rising to my feet. "No! No more of this. What I did wasn't your fault. It was mine!" I stalked across the room and then back to stand between his legs. I would drill this into him, even if it turned me fucking blue. "Don't diminish what you are to me. I couldn't bear to live with myself for hurting you, Alaric. That's why I did it. Not because of my mother or the men she had torn into my childhood. I did it because hurting you deserved punishment."

Gripping his face once more, I forced him to look up at me. "So please, stop blaming yourself. I never want to be the reason you hurt, Alaric."

His arms wrapped around my hips, and his shoulders relaxed a fraction. "I lost someone, Vaela—the other half of me—and I'm so fucking scared something will take you too."

"Never again, Alaric. Never," I promised.

For a long moment, we stayed there, locked in each other's gaze, the silence thick and heavy with unspoken fears. Then, slowly, Alaric leaned into my touch, his forehead resting against mine, his breath warm on my skin.

"I don't deserve you," he murmured, but there was less resistance in his voice now. The walls were starting to crack.

I smiled. "You deserve more, Alaric—so much more. So let me give you what you give me. Let me keep you anchored here. Let me in." I hoped my words showed him the truth inside my heart. And I truly meant it—the cruel temptation of death no longer dug its claws into me, because he was worth living for.

No amount of torture or pain could have made me regret the path that led me into his arms.

Alaric's breath hitched, and for a moment, I feared he would retreat again. But he didn't. Instead, he leaned closer, his lips brushing against mine in a soft, lingering caress that spoke of everything we were battling against—the darkness, the pain, the guilt.

"I can't lose you," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "You're the light in my life, Engel, and I'm terrified of what I'll do if that light goes out."

I pressed my forehead against his, feeling the heat radiate from his skin. "It's not going to come to that, Alaric. Forgive yourself... Let me inside this destructive mind of yours the way you've found home in mine."

Alaric's breath slowed as he processed my words.

I held onto the moment, urging him to let me inside. "Not just the man who protects me, but the one who battles his demons alone. I need to know who you are, Alaric."

"You might not like what you find," he warned, his eyes darkening with memories that cast an even deeper shadow over his soul.

"Then let me decide," I replied firmly, stepping even closer, my heart racing with the need to show him nothing would change my commitment to him. "You once asked me to choose, and it's always been you. I'd follow you blindly, Alaric. You've shown me parts of your world, and I'm still here. Now it's your turn to trust me."

His gaze searched mine, and I could see the storm raging behind those dark eyes. "You don't know what I've done," he murmured.

"Then tell me," I insisted.

"Before I found you, I was consumed by a darkness I thought I could control. But it controls me, baby. We aren't good, Vaela—we kill, and we do it brutally. Executions, raids, more blood than you could imagine. All this money comes from a place of no redemption." His fingers trembled as they brushed against my skin. "And when they took my brother from me, what little life I had left died too. Nothing could have stopped me. I killed and maimed my way through body after body, but nothing eased the pain of losing him. I was ruthless, Vaela. Still am. That man is still inside me. He lurks in the shadows, waiting for the moment to take over."

I moved to straddle his lap, my knees pressing into the mattress on either side of his hips. "Then let him, Alaric... I fell in love with that very ruthlessness. With the man who crippled those boys who tried to touch me. The man who gripped my mother's arm and fed her pills to keep her from hurting me. I lust for the ruthless man who kills for me and crave the one who hunts for me."

Alaric's eyes darkened at my words, and I could feel the pull of something primal, something deeper than the surface tension that had woven through our relationship. The way he looked at me now, it was like I had cracked open the door to the cage that held all the parts of himself he had tried so hard to keep locked away. I wasn't scared of him, and he finally saw that. 

"Vaela," he whispered, his voice thick with warning. "You don't know what you're saying."

"I do," I murmured, my hands slipping to the back of his neck, fingers tracing the scars etched into his skin. "I know exactly what I'm saying."

Alaric's grip tightened on my waist, pulling me closer as if testing whether I would break under the weight of his confession. But I didn't falter. I leaned in closer, my lips brushing against the sharp line of his jaw, feeling the tension coil through his body.

"I've seen the man you are, Alaric," I whispered, "and I am in love with him."

His eyes flashed with a mixture of conflict and desire, the fight between his need to protect me from himself and his instinct to pull me deeper into his world. But I was already there, standing at the edge of the abyss with him. All he had to do was let me fall with him.

Without warning, his lips crashed against mine, hard and fierce, as if this was the last barrier between us, the last thread of restraint he had left. I could feel the heat of him, the raw power beneath his skin, and I welcomed it, my body pressing against his screaming, I'm yours.

His hands moved over me, gripping my hips, sliding up my sides, possessive, claiming. I felt his need, his hunger, and I revelled in it. This was the man I had fallen for—the one who didn't apologize for who he was, the one who protected and destroyed with the same hands. 

I wanted all of him.

________________________________

Alaric sat behind his large wooden desk, his office was just as moody as its owner, but I enjoyed being surrounded by him. The curtains had been drawn, and I could see out into the estate—lush green gardens stretched as far as the eye could see.

Something had changed between us. The wall Alaric had built had tumbled down, and he let me see him entirely. I could barely breathe from the intensity and desire I felt for him.

Even now, as he worked, I couldn't help but clench my thighs as I sketched in the artpad he'd bought me.

I rested on the sofa opposite him, and as the morning turned to afternoon, the need inside me grew. Seeing his strong, brutal form dressed in a black suit wrecked havoc on my mind. And fuck, when he looked over at me between emails, phone calls, or whatever else he was doing, I could swear he'd set me alight.

My body ached, my pussy still tender from his touch. I clenched my lips together, hissing through my teeth. God, I was sure he'd break me apart with that cock one of these days. Needing to think of something other than his touch, I forced my focus back on the art pad, my hand sketching lines that began to form Alaric's strong jawline.

It seemed no matter how hard I tried to distract myself, my thoughts circled back to him. His dark gaze flicked up from his work, catching me staring, and a smirk tugged at the corner of his lips. My pulse quickened, heat blooming in my chest.

He stood just as the door to his office opened.

Silas strode in, his expression urgent, breaking the electric tension between us.

"Alaric," Silas said, his voice rough, the kind of tone that made my stomach twist. Something was wrong.

Alaric's mood shifted immediately, his eyes hardening as he watched his brother from behind his desk. "What is it?" he asked, his tone sharper than I'd heard it all morning.

Silas glanced briefly at me, his face softening before he turned back to his brother. "I've been going over it, time and time again, and it just didn't make sense. No one knew we'd be at that warehouse that night. After you left, I kept digging because whoever was behind it was smart enough to hide behind the men you killed. And I finally found him. The man who orchestrated Atlas's death..."

* * *

Welcome to the dark world of Alaric and Silas Windsor...

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Love you, 

J.