Lucrezia Akna.
The devil reincarnated. If he were to wear Louis Vuitton and Chanel.
And he would be more evil.
That's my aunt's resume. Don't believe me?
Then explain to me why she is standing between two bodyguards who could punch the Wall of China with just one swing-
In the doorway of my motel room.
I didn't even have the time to process before she clawed her red nails into Luther.
Dragging him from me.
Luther looked at me. Half confused, half hurt.
Does he really think I brought my aunt here? That I sell him out?
No.
Need a way out.
Now.
"There you are. You look like sh-t, darling."
I try to pull back Luther, but her claws are too deep in his arm. To the point of bleeding.
Oh God, Luther is bleeding through his shirt.
"Calm yourself, moron. You almost lost me a deal."
Her tone was sharp. That sharpness was usually followed by the immediate disposal of whoever was receiving it.
Not important.
If she takes Luther now, it's all done.
Sure, she could use him as a pawn for political advantage with Cassian, but-
That's too messy. Too dirty.
A threat to her perfect manicure even.
That leaves the other possibility- Emiliano.
Give Luther to him for pharmaceutical leverage in the "underground business".
No work done.
Just orders.
Much cleaner and her style.
But after all I did-
All we went through-
I-I killed a man.
Just to get Luther out. I would rather kill another than let that be in vain.
Seems like murder was quite addictive-
But necessary to survive.
And now our existence is threatened by the devil herself.
"That's enough. Give him back."
She switched her attention from Luther to me. Finally stopped digging her nails into his flesh.
Poor Luther stood there. No emotion left.
Drained.
Tired.
Overthinking.
Aunt stood in front of me, pushing her pointy nail into my chest aggressively.
"Watch your tone. Do you even have any idea what the stakes are?"
She sighed dramatically.
Grabbed my face, lowering me to her height.
"Do you want to f—k him? Will that get all of this out of your system? Because I am through with your tantrums. First Damian, now him?"
She scoffed. Lightly tapped my cheek with her palm.
Dismissive.
Ironic.
With superiority and faked pity.
"Men always think with their-"
She stopped. Turned her back on me.
"I will let you have your night with him. Get over it. Or under it, behind it. Whatever you want. When I come back, I'd better find an obedient nephew. Or else."
Her Louboutins clicked loudly against the floor on her way out. Instructed her monkeys to stand right outside the door.
"Have fun!"
And yet again—
It was just me and Luther.
Blood on his shirt.
Silence in his eyes.
And the weight of everything I couldn't undo.
"Luther"
"I am not sleeping with you."
Sharp.
Clear.
Pointless to say.
"Of course not. We need to get out. We'll-"
I look around.
"We'll break the window. Or we could take down the two guys. I-I still have the gun"
He looked at me.
Since the moment I killed Lior, he kept avoiding my gaze. Or he looked at me with nothing but empty eyes.
I wish we could go back to that.
Because the way he looks at me now-
For a split second, surprise.
Then—nothing. Just cold indifference.
"I am done"
"Luther?"
His voice rang snappily against the walls.
I hear one of my aunt's bodyguards making a snappy remark outside:
"Premature ejac-lation?"
The other one burst into laughter.
I am at my limit.
And Luther is at his too.
I tried to get closer. To pull him into my arms. To comfort him.
He stepped back.
"I will tell you this since you saved my life. You have 5 seconds to get your head out the window and inhale. You'll need the air, believe me."
"Luther, that's dangerous. If you use your pheromones, who knows what will happen to you? You might go into heat, you might go into pheromone shock and end up on the floor with your mouth full of foam, choking."
"Like you would care."
"Of course I do."
"Your aunt is right. You just need to get it out of your system."
He started unbuttoning his shirt.
"Luther, what are you doing?"
"Would you rather do it? Wanna feel like you finally conquered me? Ok."
He stepped closer.
His shirt hit the floor. The silence between us turned dense, heavy—like it might split the air in half.
I didn't realize I'd been holding my breath—until he kissed me.
The air escaped in a muffled, broken moan I couldn't take back.
This is wrong.
I gathered the last scraps of my senses- my morality, my control to pull back, but it's useless.
He's holding me in place. Forcing me to take him.
I feel his tongue against the roof of my mouth, his hands pulling my hair.
His breath is shaky. He is crying.
"Luther please"
I dare to say in just a moment of release.
He moved his mouth to my ear and bit my earlobe hard. But so seductively-
Guided my hands on his chest. I can feel his heartbeat, his hot flesh, his shivers.
Please, God, give me strength.
"You wanted me. Since you first saw me, you wanted me. Now you have me. For tonight. Then we'll forget about each other. Go back to being strangers."
"I don't want to."
My voice came out hoarse, breaking, pleading.
Pathetic.
I finally get a grip on his shoulders and pull him away.
"I love you, Luther."
I hear myself saying it. Do I?
Are my feelings that deep? Do I really love Luther Wilkers?
I did kill a man. I was ready to sacrifice my second gender. I betrayed my family.
All for him.
But love?
What else if not love?
"You don't even believe it yourself. Look at you."
"I do. Please, Luther. I love you. Please."
He hesitated for just a moment.
A short moment until he unleashed his scent.
Guess we'll see if love survives poison.