The forest around the cabin was eerily silent—no wind rustling the trees, no insects humming. Just the echo of Luka's taunting voice still clawing at Ariana's mind. Brandon paced in front of the fireless hearth, radiating heat even in the cold. His silence was heavier than any words, his jaw locked, his hands flexing with restless rage.
Ariana stood at the window, her reflection ghost-like against the glass. James. The name twisted something deep inside her. A part of her had buried him. Buried the betrayal. The image of Nicole's legs wrapped around him. The way he'd stared at her afterward like he was the one broken.
She hadn't spoken his name since. Not to Brandon. Not to anyone. But now, he was back—and worse, he was involved.
"How long has he been in the city?" Brandon finally asked.
His voice was controlled, low, but Ariana could hear the storm beneath it.
"I don't know," she said. "I haven't seen him. I thought he left for good."
Brandon stopped pacing. "You should've told me."
"I wasn't sure it mattered anymore."
Brandon turned on her, eyes burning. "Everything about you matters. Who you were. Who you loved. Who fucking destroyed you."
Ariana didn't flinch. "You think you're so different from him?"
His expression hardened. "I never lied to you."
"No, you just stalked me, manipulated me, dragged me into your bloody world."
He stepped closer, looming. "And still you stayed."
Ariana's breath hitched. Because it was true. She had stayed. Through the darkness, through the fear—because something in him pulled at the deepest part of her. Something terrifying and irresistible.
"I don't know why I can't leave you," she whispered.
Brandon's hand came up, fingers sliding through her hair. "Because you're mine," he said simply, mouth brushing her ear. "And some part of you knows it."
His lips found her throat, slow and possessive. She melted against him before she could stop herself, her body betraying every reason her mind tried to build.
Clothes were forgotten in the blur of want. He laid her down on the couch like she was something sacred and sinful all at once. The firelight caught the muscles in his back as he moved over her, every inch of him pressed into her, igniting heat along her skin.
It wasn't soft. It wasn't gentle.
It was survival.
They clung to each other like the world was ending—like nothing else existed but the pleasure, the violence of needing too much, too fast, too deeply. Moans tangled with the sound of skin meeting skin, their names whispered like prayers in the dark.
When it was over, they lay tangled, his hand on her heart.
"You think I'm the monster," he murmured, "but I've seen true evil. James Nick... isn't coming back to say sorry."
Ariana blinked up at the ceiling. "Then why is he back?"
Brandon's voice dropped. "Because you're the one thing he never got to control."
---
The next morning, Brandon left early—alone. Ariana didn't ask where he was going. She already knew. He had that look in his eyes—the one that said someone was about to bleed.
She spent the day exploring the cabin's quiet. There was a path behind the house that led to a cliff overlooking the ocean, wild and angry below. She stood on the edge, arms crossed, staring at the horizon.
When she returned, a car was in the driveway.
Black. Sleek.
Not Brandon's.
Her blood ran cold.
She stepped inside, blade drawn—but it wasn't Brandon she found in the living room.
It was him.
James.
He was older now. Rougher. A thin scar ran across his jaw. But those same ice-blue eyes still haunted her dreams. And now, they were staring at her like she'd risen from the dead.
"Hi, Ari," he said softly.
She didn't move.
He stepped forward, holding his hands out like he was approaching a wounded animal. "I didn't come to hurt you."
"You did that already," she said coldly.
His face twisted. "I never meant to—"
"Don't," she cut in. "Don't give me your excuses."
"I need you to understand what happened. Nicole—she seduced me, she—"
Ariana's laugh was sharp, bitter. "Nicole didn't put your dick in her mouth, James. You did that all on your own."
He winced. "You were everything to me. I made a mistake."
"You shattered me."
"I've changed."
"No. You just learned to cover your lies better."
James' eyes darkened. "That man you're with now? He's a killer, Ariana. He'll ruin you."
"And you didn't?"
"I'm not like him."
"You're right," she snapped. "You're worse. You broke me and left. He... pieced me back together, even if he used blood to do it."
James' jaw clenched. "He's manipulating you."
"You don't get to decide who I love."
That silenced him. For a heartbeat, anyway.
"Do you love him?" he asked quietly.
Ariana hesitated.
Then—"Yes."
James took a breath. "Then I'll fight for you."
The front door slammed open.
Brandon stood there, covered in someone else's blood, gun already raised.
James turned.
And Ariana knew—
This wasn't going to end without fire.