A/N: This was pretty fast, I know, but I'm posting this chapter as promised to AriRocks because she was the first to finally comment on this book. I'd really like to know what you think. Where do you stand with Sebastian? Do you like him or do you hate him? 

***

I carried the breakfast tray up the stairs, hoping the cheese omelette I’d made wasn’t going anywhere but Sebastian’s stomach.

It was almost ten in the morning and I’d been up for hours already but I decided that Sebastian wasn’t going to appreciate being yanked out of bed early.

I’ve seen off the rest of the staff before setting down to make breakfast and finally brave Sebastian’s room.

I set down the tray on a side table outside of his door before doing a couple of perfunctory knocks.

When there was no answer, I started rapping on it a little more aggressively.

“Go away, damn it!” 

I cringed at the hoarse shout before picking up the tray with one hand and twisting the knob open with another.

I’ve never seen Sebastian’s room before.

It was huge with a sitting room of some sort, a small bar, a writing desk against a shelf of books and cozy dining area by the french doors that opened to his ocean-view balcony.

The walls were a deep blue-gray, the furniture and accents that of rich, gleaming wood, dark, muted colors and luxurious textures.

It was also closed off from sunlight, oppressive and smelled strongly of whisky, probably wafting from the half-empty glass and open bottle sitting by the bar.

I set down the tray on the coffee table by the sitting room and slowly rounded my way to an alcove where I spied the massive four-poster bed.

“Jennison, you better get out of here if you don’t want to your nose broken,” came the hard, angry voice. “I said I didn’t want to be disturbed and there’s no other interpretation for it!”

“Sebastian,” I said quietly, standing by the foot of the bed, staring at the mass of midnight blue silk sheets and the unmistakably naked male form they covered from the waist down.

With swift movement, Sebastian flipped over to his back and sat up, the sheets pooling down by his hips, his bare chest and stomach rippling with muscle.

“Cassandra,” he said slowly and darkly. “To what do I owe the pleasure of your lovely company this morning? I thought you’d left.”

I gazed at his face—the harsh lines on his forehead, the scowl that knit his brows, the dark stubble that now covered his chin and jaw, the taut line of his mouth and the angry, accusing glare of his emerald eyes. 

“I never said I was leaving,” I said, trying hard not to fidget in the face of his furious scrutiny. Sleep hasn’t done a darn thing to improve his disposition.

“Well, it’s not like I ever got to ask you considering you were nowhere to be found when I got back last night,” he said acidly, his mirthless smile making him look decidedly sinister.

I refused to tremble. “I didn’t expect your arrival. I haven’t gotten anything from you since last Sunday.”

Instantly, Sebastian’s eyes glimmered with pain, raw and sharp, but it quickly shut itself away in an instant.

“Leave me alone, Cassandra.”

I took a step forward. “Sebastian, I heard what happened. I’m so sorry—”

“Don’t!” he rasped savagely, thrusting a hand out to stop me from speaking further. “Just go away.”

“I’m not leaving!” I said more forcefully this time, my temper quickly rising despite my efforts at remaining placid. “If you don’t want to talk about it, fine, but you’re not making me leave unless you shove me out of the door yourself.”

“If that’s what it takes, fine by me.” He leapt off the bed, thankfully in black boxer briefs that did nothing to hide his aroused state, and gripped me almost painfully by the wrists. 

He marched towards the door, dragging me behind him as I pushed with my heels to stop him. “Sebastian!”

He thrust me out the door of his bedroom, his arms bracing against the doorjamb, his nostrils flared in anger, his eyes flashing. “Get out! I don’t want you here. Maybe your college boy can make use of you as he seemed eager to maul you down last night. I don’t care as long as you get out of my life and leave me in peace!”

Then, he stepped back and slammed the door in my face.

I stared at the smooth, dark surface of the oakwood door for a long moment before a sob finally choked out of me. 

I took a deep breath and blinked back the tears. 

“Damn you, Sebastian Vice,” I muttered under my breath before turning to leave.

It didn’t look promising but if Sebastian thought he could bellow and order everyone away, he was wrong.

A renewed sense of determination steeled in me.

Sure, I worried about how I could hurt him and how he could hurt me. I was afraid of pressing him too far or the wrong way and send him running. But despite my initial impression that he could be a terrifying man when he wished to be, I actually wasn’t afraid of him. 

Now, he just has to figure that out.

***

I fixed him a sandwich in the early afternoon.

I didn’t even bother to knock. I strode in, glanced down at the untouched breakfast tray I’d left and suppressed a sigh.

I kicked off my flip flops and tiptoed quietly towards the bed and saw him sleeping deeply.

I set the snack tray down a corner table and stood next to the bed, spying the whisky glass and now-empty decanter on his night stand that hadn’t been there this morning.

He was going to drink himself sick if I didn’t stop him.

Quietly, I picked up the glass and decanter and walked back to the bar where I proceeded to rummage through his stock and take out fresh bottles. I went out to the hallway and deposited them inside an empty hamper in one of the guest bedrooms.

Heading back to the room, I found the small control panel that operated the curtains in the room. Thank God, they were discreetly labeled and I was able to let some light into the dining area and sitting room.

I went back to his bedside and started picking up the clothes he’d discarded on the floor. They smelled faintly of alcohol and more of Sebastian’s clean, masculine scent.

I threw them into the hamper inside his spa-like bathroom and went to soak a towel for him in cold water.

I took it back into the room, setting it down on the tray next to his food before I reached out tentatively and patted his shoulder. 

“Come on, you need to eat,” I murmured softly as I leaned over him and brushed the thick, wavy locks that fell over his forehead. 

His hand shot out and locked around my wrist like a vise before he yanked me onto the bed and rolled me under him.

For someone who had been drinking heavily, his reflexes were pretty quick.

“Cassandra, is it you?”

His voice was nothing like the hard, angry one earlier. 

It was husky and almost playful.

He didn’t wait for my reply before burying his face on my neck, his hands gliding up my hips and sliding under my shirt. 

His skin was hot and nearly electric as the traced his way around my waist before cupping my breasts and squeezing.

Gasping as sensations started to flare up in me, I let my head fall back on the pillow and gazed up at him, only able to see his dark mop of a hair as he pushed my shirt up and bra up, his mouth finding my nipple and sucking on it fervently.

“Sebastian... Oh, God.”

I cried out as his teeth gently grazed the hardened and oversensitized tips of my breasts, his tongue goading it further.

My hands clenched through his hair as he moved to the other breast to assault it with identical determination.

His hands had found their way down under my flouncy cotton skirt, his fingers questing boldly behind my now-damp panties.

“Darling,” he whispered as his finger slid inside me, stroking me relentlessly. “I want you so much... My Cassandra... Mine.”

He reached with his other hand between us and I felt him pushing down his boxer briefs.

Something hot and hard fell against my inner thigh.

I sucked in a sharp, labored breath as my hands anchored on his shoulders.

My legs squeezed together instinctively as if to soothe the deepening ache between them. His hands slipped past my knees again and flattened against my thighs and I felt myself opening like a flower.

Then he looked up.

His green eyes were dazed and bloodshot and almost unseeing.

I froze.

“Sebastian?” 

When he smiled unsteadily and swooped down to smash his mouth against mine, my senses returned in a dizzying rush.

His breath was stale with the taste of whisky and his hands were now fumbling between us as he positioned his cock against my entrance.

“Sebastian, stop it!” 

I pushed at his shoulders as hard as I could but he was heavier and stronger and just grunted at my effort.

Tears burned my eyes. 

I was about to lose my virginity to a man who wouldn’t remember a thing about it when he sobers up and there was no way I was going to let that happen. The last thing I wanted to be for him was a colossal mistake—one we both won’t be able to forgive him for.

“Sebastian!”

I flung my arm out and slammed my palm against the side of his face with the blow that sent ripples of pain all the way to my shoulder.

He jerked back, his cheek bright red and his eyes starting to clear.

I swung my hand back again but he quickly caught it on its way back. His fingers dug into my flesh with a bruising bite and his other hand grabbed my hair.

“What the hell are you doing here?” he demanded furiously, pinning me down with his weight as I struggled to slip free from under him. “Didn’t I shove you out myself?”

“Yes, you did, you bastard!” I shot back at him, nearly palpitating with anger myself. “I came in to bring you food so you don’t kill yourself but you yanked me to your bed and mauled me because you’re so drunk you can’t even tell whether you’re awake or not.”

His eyes narrowed into slits, his grip unrelenting. 

“I’m not so drunk I couldn’t tell it was you, Cassandra,” he bit out. “I would know your wanton reactions anywhere. Why? Do you have an itch for me to scratch? Didn’t your college lover boy give it to you good last night? Do you need a man to do it for you?”

My face felt like it was on fire and I wish it were if it would let me slam my head against Sebastian’s and send him up in flames too.

“Fuck you, Sebastian.”

He smiled cruelly. “That’s what I was just about to do before you hit me. I could certainly oblige you.”

His cock twitched against my thigh, reminding me of just how vulnerable I was.

“I told you to leave me alone, Cassandra,” he said slowly and coldly. “If you keep coming to my bed, I’d have no choice but to avail myself of your freely offered goods and I wouldn’t feel a damn pang of guilt because I believe I’ve already been given rights to them.”

“I’m not afraid of you, Sebastian,” I ground out. “There’s no use in trying to scare me away. You won’t hurt me.”

He threw his head back and let out a short, derisive laugh. “I won’t? One thrust and it’s game over for you, sweet. I could take it all before panic could sink in. I’m not above such crudity.”

“I know you’re not capable—”

“You have no idea what I’m capable of,” he growled as he suddenly leaned over me and pulled painfully at my hair, his eyes flashing. “Right now, I’m very capable of taking you over and over again until I’m wrung out dry, and then breaking your soul into so many pieces you won’t have much left in you when you crawl out of here.”

I glared at him, searched for the disgust I was supposed to feel at his treatment but all I found was the strangest urge to belt him unconscious.

“Let me go, Sebastian,” I finally said with a sigh, the fight draining out of me. “We both know you can do anything you wanted to do and there’s not a damned thing I can do to stop you. We also both know that once you’re done, you will pay the price for it with your soul.”

“Can’t if I haven’t got one,” he answered smoothly. “Want me to prove it?”

His hand slipped free from my hair and sought out my breast, his fingers squeezing it with an almost brutal strength, before he bent his head and punished it further with his coarse sucking.

I closed my eyes and swallowed the sob rising in my throat.

“Very well. Do your worst.”

He went very still.

My heart was pounding and the sound filled my ears as I squeezed my shut eyes tightly as if it would somehow alter this nightmarish reality.

Suddenly, he lifted himself off me and I gasped at the rush of blood back into my legs and wrists. 

“Get out,” he muttered hoarsely. “Get out before I completely lose control, Cassandra.”

I opened my eyes and found him sitting on the bed next to me, his muscles quivering with what I suspected was suppressed violence. 

His hands were clenched into fists and a muscle twitched on his jaw.

He was looking up at the ceiling, fiercely determined to keep from meeting my eyes. 

“Sebastian...”

“I will not be so generous next time so I suggest that you don’t test me.” He took a sharp intake of breath and briefly closed his eyes. “Now, run, Cassandra. Go!”

I sprang to my feet, my hands hastily pushing my shirt and skirt down.

Without another word, I took off in a run, my lungs burning as I leaned against the heavy oak door of his bedroom that I had just slammed shut.

I paused to take a few breaths and cringed as I heard a few things smash and shatter against a wall somewhere inside the room and the unmistakable sound of a sorrowful howl that ripped through the recesses of my soul.

The devil had his own demons and God help us all when they come haunting.

***

A week passed without incident. 

I looked after the house, doing some minor cleaning here and there, and cooked meals for both of us. I had settled with preparing him a tray and leaving it outside his bedroom door after a couple of knocks. He’d silently agreed to our unspoken truce by taking the food and placing the finished tray back where I’d left it.

We barely crossed paths. 

I only ever went to his side of the house to deliver food. He must be piling a mountain of dirty clothes by now but he hasn’t said anything so I trusted that he hasn’t run out of fresh ones yet, if he actually bothered to change.

I spent most of my time out in the gardens, taking the occasional swim or reading by the balcony on the other side of the house that offered more view of the ocean.

Ty had called a few times, asking me to hang out, and I had politely declined, saying that I had new duties that kept me busier than usual. He hadn’t pushed.

Jennison had dropped in twice, stopping for a quick chat with me to make sure everything was going well, but he avoided alerting Sebastian to his presence, knowing it wouldn’t be appreciated.

Since there was hardly anyone out and about, I kept in touch with civilization by emailing my friends back in Bluefield, sending them pictures of Cove Manor and entertaining them with stories slightly touched up by my imagination. There was no reason for them to know about Sebastian and what I was really here for.

After a week’s silence, I was becoming quite restless.

Sebastian might like to remain incommunicado indefinitely but I needed to know some vital information.

On a notepad, I scribbled:

Just to ascertain that there isn’t a rotting body that needs to be carted away, please answer these questions for me:

Are you still alive? Are you of acceptable physical health and mental state? Are you in need of any grooming services (such as a lawn mower for your hair and beard)? Do you require anything else other than food, drink and solitude?

I thought it was funny.

At this point, I was too exasperated to be truly angry.

I placed the folded note on top of his napkin on the breakfast tray I’d left by his bedroom

door.

A few hours later, I came back with a fresh tray for lunch and saw the breakfast one back in its place, all its contents eaten and the note weighted down by his coffee spoon.

I set the new tray down and picked up the previous one, smiling wryly as I made my way down the hall again.

I stopped by the top landing of the stairs and carefully set down the tray on a side table before unfolding the note.

It was the same note I had written with short, quick scrawls next to the questions.

Just to ascertain that there isn’t a rotting body that needs to be carted away, please answer these questions for me:

Are you still alive? Yes. Are you of acceptable physical health and mental state? Mostly. Are you in need of any grooming services (such as a lawn mower for your hair and beard)? No. Do you require anything else other than food, drink and solitude? To have my bar stock replenished and to be rid of a nag.

-You should go home to Bluefield. Be gone for good. I don’t need a babysitter.

“What you need is to get over yourself, Sebastian Vice,” I said with a snort as I picked up the tray again and went back down to the kitchen.

I had no intention of giving him back his booze. Maybe he’ll want them enough to come out of hiding from his room.

I went out to the gardens to dig around in the dirt for a couple of hours until it got so hot and muggy I was drenched in sweat.

I went upstairs to my room and changed into my discount-store turquoise bikini—the nicest pair I’ve ever owned.

I’ve spent a great deal of time out in the sun that I’ve now acquired a healthy wash of bronze and developed glints of red-gold in my hair.

Unfortunately, Sebastian had left a cuff of bruises on my right wrist and they have now blended into a pale yellow band after a few days.

It didn’t matter.

There was no one to see around here. With Sebastian holed up in his room all the time, it felt like I had the house all to myself.

I jumped into the pool and swam lazily until my body cooled down.

Then I pulled myself up on a lounge raft and closed my eyes behind my sunglasses.

The clap of thunder woke me with a start.

I nearly toppled over the raft when I sat up straight all of a sudden.

Lightning flashed over me and I looked up to stare at the dark, heavy belly of a thunder cloud. It looked like it was going to come down hard and fast.

It had been nice and cloudy before I drifted off.

Muttering a curse, I ran my fingers along the bridge of my nose and my cheeks and registered the light stinging of the start of a sunburn.

If I’d napped much longer, I would’ve been as red as a lobster.

I had just steered the raft towards the ledge of the pool when the first several drops of rain started coming down.

I grabbed my towel and flip flops and started towards the covered patio that led to the house just as the rain started pelting down hard on me.

Thunderstorms rarely happened on the west coast but when they did, they could truly ruin a good day.

Slightly shivering with the chill of the wind that was picking up fast, I hurried in shutting close the doors and windows I frequently left open to keep the rain from blowing into the house.

“That came out of nowhere,” I muttered as I bolted down the other doors around the main floor of the house, aware of the trail of water that followed me which I would need to mop up later once I was dry and warm.

The weight of the wet towel was heavy on my shoulders so I chucked it off on marble floor and went to the library to close a window I’d only propped open slightly earlier while I was in there in search of my next non-romance read.

The sound of someone clearing his throat stopped me in my tracks.

I slowly turned around and saw Sebastian standing by his massive desk, dressed simply in light gray linen pants, a white shirt and a moss green, cotton-knit robe.

His hair was a tousled mess and his chin and jaw were now covered in a dark, rough beard.

The wind howled outside as thunder roared down.

I visibly shivered—not from the malevolent thunderstorm raging outside but from the one stirring a tempest inside my heart at the simple sight of him after what seemed like ages.

My heart beat wildly and I just now realized how badly I’ve wanted to see him.

He didn’t say anything for a long time.

He just arched a sardonic brow, his eyes traveling up and down my body with private amusement.

“I’m sure Mrs. Simmons will have something to say about your choice of attire for doing chores around the house,” he finally said, setting the empty whisky glass he’d been holding down on the table. He was probably out hunting for more liquor.

His dry, caustic tone drew me back to the present, reminding me that despite the exertions of my desperately excited heart, he was still very much an ass.

“I was out swimming,” I said stonily, refusing to let his blatant appraisal of my body intimidate me.

I tried not to remember how hot and urgent his touches had been, how his mouth had been coaxing and brutal at the same time, how he took me to sensual heights and brought me crashing down with a few cold and crude words.

“Looks like you’ve been doing that a bit,” he said with a slight, appreciative nod. “You’re nicely tanned. And you have some freckles on your back.”

I rolled my eyes. “If you’re done ogling me, I’d like to get back to my room and dry off. As you can see, I’m soaking the carpet in here.”

I didn’t move as he stepped forward and stopped a foot away.

With a deft hand, he slipped off his robe and wrapped it around my shoulders, his fingers tucking the collar under the limp weight of my wet hair and clutching it close under my chin.

“Thank you,” I said quietly, reaching up to grasp the robe together where he’d held it.

His gaze moved down and darkened swiftly.

“You have bruises.” His words were hard yet hollow.

I shifted to move my wrist away from his view. “They’re almost gone.”

“Damn it,” he swore thickly before reaching for my wrists. 

I automatically backed away a step and he swore more viciously.

“I’m not going to attack you,” he growled, his face contradicting his claim, my fearful reaction clearly distressing him.

I arched a brow. “Wasn’t this what you hoped for? Thought you’d be glad it’s working.”

He glared at me. “I just want to look at it.”

He seemed surprisingly sober today—his eyes clear and sharp, his face rested. Maybe stealing all the alcohol away did some actual good.

Warily, I extended my hand and he took it with gentle fingers, examining the wrist.

My lips pressed together to stop the gasp of breath his contact drew out of me.

“I was rough,” he grumbled sullenly, his thumb gently tracing the injured skin.

I peered at him from under my lashes, watching the softening of the lines on his forehead and the glimmer of his green eyes. I suspected this admission was the closest I’d ever come to an apology from him.

“It’s okay.” I gave him a wry smile. “I have some experience in being manhandled.”

His head shot up, his expression drawn and dark. “Did Pendley ever beat you?”

I shook my head. “Nothing intentional, I think, anyway. When he’s drunk though, he can be a little... rough.”

“What did he do?” he ground out. 

I shrugged. “He’d elbowed me in the eye once and that bruised. I’ve dislocated a wrist too, when he collapsed on me and I caught my fall with my hands. Last month, he’d knocked me against the the wall and I split the skin on my forehead.”

He was silent as he reached up and traced the small, white scar just long my hairline near my left temple.

“Pendley needs a thrashing,” he murmured as his fingers moved farther back and delved into my wet hair.

“I’m not sure you’re the right person to pass that judgement,” I said dryly. “You nearly raped me. Timothy has probably only just started thinking about it recently, but then, you’re more intellectually advanced than he is.”

He visibly flinched as if I’d slapped him on the face. He staggered backwards a little bit but he didn’t release me. 

“No,” he rasped, his green eyes glittering with emotion. “I will never hurt you that way.”

A corner of my mouth tipped up. “No, you’ve got your own way.”

He scowled. “You were pushing me. You defy me at every turn.”

I laughed. “You make it sound like you’re my king and lord. You’re in the wrong century, Sebastian.”

For a moment, I thought he was going to yell my head off again but he suddenly smiled—not a full blown one, more of a smirk actually—and I shivered at its impact.

“Come here,” he said, gently pulling me close and wrapping his arms around me as if to share his body heat.

Stunned into silence, I let him draw me in, aware of the pounding in my chest at the feel of him so warm and solid around me.

“You’re so damnably stubborn, you know that?” he murmured, his nose and lips burying into the dampness of my hair. “Always refusing to back down. Always insisting you know better. Always taking me down several pegs, not just one or two.”

I bit my lip and pressed my cheek against his chest, hearing the steady beating of his heart that nearly echoed my own.

“I’m not particularly fond of such insolence,” he continued on with a note of amusement in his voice now. “Yet I find I can’t quite punish you for it. Nor can I truly push you away.”

His hands cupped each side of my face and drew it up so I could look at him.

His expression had softened, his eyes almost smiling, his lips slightly parted as he gazed at me, his thumbs gently brushing against my cheeks.

“Kiss me,” I said before I could stop myself.

All of a sudden, I wanted him like I never wanted anything else, the longing to touch, kiss and comfort him coming back to me in full force.

Nearly desperate, I pushed myself up on my toes and grabbed on to the back of his neck to pull him down to me but he held me back, chuckling softly.

“Take it easy,” he murmured soothingly, his thumb now tracing the curve of my bottom lip. “Let me do this right.”

He lowered his head down and brushed a series of individual, feather-light kisses on my lips.

When he leaned in for another, I caught his lower lip and slowly sucked, my eyes fluttering close as I let the sensations take over.

“Damn you, Cassandra,” he growled softly as he pulled me close and claimed my mouth with a dark hunger. “You never let me stay in control.”

I would’ve smiled if he weren’t feasting on my mouth with mounting decadence but I didn’t mind. 

I didn’t mind that he wasn’t treating me like a porcelain doll but a warm-blooded woman his body desired and demanded for.

There was still the unmistakable difference in how he touched and held me from that time he nearly drunkenly tumbled me in his bed—a tenderness in the way he sifted through my hair, trailed a path up and down my arm and cradled my cheek with a gentle hand.

His hand moved down my shoulder and I took it and laid it against my breast, wanting his touch there, but he suddenly broke the kiss and took a step back.

I raised my eyes to him in confusion and watched him put on a strained smile that did nothing to conceal the sweet agony he was experiencing. 

I imagined I looked the same—luminous eyes, swollen lips, chest rising and falling with each ragged breath—because I was suffering through the same torture.

“Sebastian—”

He held up a hand to stop me as he sucked in a sharp breath, his brows furrowing with the effort. “That kiss... was supposed to erase the ugliness of what I... I did to you... the last time.”

I frowned. “I don’t understand.”

“I will never touch you again, Cassandra,” he said with a little more force this time, a bit of anger in his voice now. “Because God knows I’m not capable of anything close to what you deserve from a man. That last kiss is what I want you to remember of me.”

Realization dawned and I felt a burst of fury. “I see. Were you planning on finally casting me out on the streets then? Was that kiss supposed to cushion the blow?”

“No! That’s not what I—” His fists clenched and his green eyes flashed. “If you want to stay, I won’t stop you. But I’m leaving. I don’t trust myself to keep my hands off you if I stay here much longer. All week, I’ve been lying in bed contemplating various ways to cut off blood flow to many parts of my body so I wouldn’t seek you out and drag you back to my bed where I would do nothing but destroy you for my pleasure.”

“Sebastian, please. I don’t—”

“There’s this hollow ache inside me that’s eating me alive and I want to fill it,” he went on, too deeply absorbed in his outburst now to stop. “I want to fill it with the scent and taste and heat of you. I want you to fill all of my senses so that there’d be no room for anything else. I want to lose myself in you so much I’m afraid I’ll forget to protect you from me, Cassandra. I will never forgive myself if that happened. I can’t sell the last of my soul for a piece of yours.”

His voice had long lost its anger and all there was to hear was the harsh yearning he was tamping down with the dead weight of his self control.

“I don’t mind losing that piece of my soul if it will let me comfort yours,” I said in a small voice, my fists clenching in an effort to hold my head up through the waves of emotions that were sweeping over me. “Let me stay with you, Sebastian. Let me love you.”

The words had simply tumbled out before I knew what they were but the moment I heard them, I understood with startling clarity.

The realization that I was perilously close to falling in love with Sebastian Vice offered neither the peace of mind nor the sense of perfect understanding answers to complicated mysteries often brought.

In fact, for the first time since I stepped in Cove Manor, I was absolutely terrified.

I was terrified of where these feelings would take me and whether he would be there to take my hand. I was terrified of the shadows that lurked in the hidden depths of Sebastian’s soul and the possibility that they may never see the light no matter how much I loved him. I was terrified of the fact that there was truly nowhere to run to now—I could never separate my heart from my body without killing myself.

It would seem that Sebastian knew a little about dying too because he looked more forlorn than I’ve ever seen him, as if the one thing he wanted the most in the world was withering away before his very eyes.

“You can’t, Cassandra,” he said in a thick voice, his hand gripping the back of an armchair as if he needed its support. “Loving me would the most foolish thing you can ever do.”

I swallowed hard, trying to fight the helpless sense of frustration mounting in me. 

“I’d asked for very little in my life,” I started in a surprisingly steady voice. “I wanted food in my stomach, a roof over my head, some means of independence and just a little bit of happiness. Having been in the mercy of other people, I never indulged, never wasted anything, never strayed from the straight and narrow.”

His gaze gentled. “I’ll give you everything you can possibly want.”

“But not the one thing I really desire.” I shook my head as tears stung my eyes. “Regardless of your noble intentions, I’m already on a path to ruin. If there’s a sin I’d gladly accept punishment for, it’d be you. You’re my vice, Sebastian, and I’m happy to burn for you.”

Before either of us could say anything else, I turned and ran out of the room, tears bouncing off my cheeks.

If there was one thing I was ashamed of out of all of this, it was the fact that I was too much of a coward to stay there and accept what I suspected was going to be another set-down from him.

But I couldn’t take another blow—not just yet. Not when I’d just laid my soul bare for him to do whatever he liked with it.

An angry, unrepentant and obstinate Sebastian I could easily face down.

But the Sebastian who held me and kissed me in the library this afternoon was the one who rarely came out to the surface—the vulnerable, passionate version of him who was shackled by some kind of self-recrimination.

Faced with his reluctant yet ardent admissions, the self-struggle he was clearly losing and the almost child-like yearning in his eyes, I couldn’t wield any of my usual weapons.

I could only plead and hope, the way you would coax a child to trust a stranger to do him no harm, to give me a chance.

I leaned against my bedroom door the moment I shut it close, sobs escaping from deep within me as my shoulders shook with the tears I was trying to hold back.

Rain lashed against my window and I silently prayed the storm would keep raging throughout the night, drowning out my sobs until my heart emptied.

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Hi everyone! 

I think giving you all five chapters is a pretty good start to let you figure out how you feel about the story so far. You're either interested or not interested at this point. If you like this story and would like to see more, please vote and comment. They mean so much to me.  Your support spurs me on to keep writing so don't hold back! LOL! You guys are the best! -Ninya

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