The rain didn't stop. It washed over the hood of the black SUV, mingling with the sweat and the tears on my face as Kai finished his reclamation of my body. The city hummed around us, indifferent to the fact that my soul had just been crushed into the wet pavement.
Kai pulled back, his breathing ragged, his eyes searching mine for any trace of the rebel who had dared to run. He found nothing but exhaustion and the flickering violet light of a dying fire.
He didn't help me up. He reached into the glove compartment of the SUV and pulled out a heavy velvet case. When he snapped it open, the streetlights caught the glint of gold.
It wasn't a necklace. It wasn't a ring. It was a pair of cuffs, connected by a three-foot length of solid, reinforced gold links.
"Since you can't remember Rule Number One on your own," Kai rasped, grabbing my wrist and snapping the first cuff shut. The click felt final—like a key turning in a tomb. "I'm going to make it impossible for you to forget."
He snapped the other end around his own left wrist.
"Kai, no... you can't be serious," I whispered, my voice cracking. "You're going to chain yourself to me?"
"For the next forty-eight hours, you will go where I go. You will eat when I eat. You will sleep when I sleep," he growled, hauling me off the hood and toward the door of the SUV. "If I have to be your anchor, then I will be your shadow too. Every time you pull away, you'll feel the weight of the Fox."
KAI'S POV
The drive back to the Manor was silent, save for the rhythmic clink-clink-clink of the gold chain between us. My pulse was still racing, a mixture of adrenaline and a dark, twisted satisfaction.
I looked at the gold link. It was a physical manifestation of my obsession. I knew the board would think I was insane. I knew Lucian was still out there, laughing at how easily he had manipulated me into this state of paranoia.
But as I looked at Amara, slumped against the passenger door, her violet eyes staring vacantly at the passing lights, I didn't care. The "Countdown" on my watch had reset. By claiming her in the rain, by restabilizing her blood with my own, I had bought us another week.
But a week wasn't enough. I needed a lifetime.
"Why did you go to the service hatch?" I asked, my voice low. "Who told you it was there?"
Amara didn't blink. "My mother's ghost."
I gripped the steering wheel so hard the leather groaned. "Your mother is dead, Amara. She died in a 'lab accident' ten years ago because she thought she could outsmart the Fox family. Don't follow her into the fire."
"Maybe the fire is better than the cage," she whispered.
I reached out with my tethered hand, jerking the chain. She was pulled toward the center console, her shoulder hitting mine. "There is no fire left for you, Little Fox. There is only me. And by the time I'm finished with you tonight, you won't even remember how to breathe without my permission."