Ruin (Rhodes #1) by Rina Kent

                             Tonight, I’ll drive them all away. Arthur is mine, and I’ll retrieve what’s mine. I know he wouldn’t want to touch me, but I’m also aware that he can’t resist me. If letting him draw my blood will make us both alive again, then I’ll willingly let him. I’ve been dead for a long time already.



                             I turn the page for the following entry. There’s nothing. What?! Is this it? Why did Eva stop writing? Ugh. I want to know what happened.

                             The latest entries were dedicated to Eva’s void. She was on the edge of herself, wanting Arthur’s attention and getting nothing but neglect. The last entry was the first time in months she decided to act. All this happened while Aaron was spending most his time with Alexander. Eva seemed to be relieved for that fact. After all, Aaron was another burden in her lifeless existence.

                             I sigh and stare outside from my window. Dark grey clouds haven’t stopped releasing their contents, slumping the estate in a gloomy rainy afternoon. Droplets of water blur the glass, but the view of the outside terrace’s still clear. If there had been any blood left on the grass, then the downpour will have washed it away. It feels like years since I saw Aaron doused in his blood. The exact period is days— judging from the number of meals Kane brought me.

                             I begged him to tell me about Aaron’s condition, but like a damn robot, he nodded and left without a word every time. Until yesterday. He slipped a tiny piece of paper under the spoon. ‘He’s out of danger. Still hasn’t regained consciousness.’ I would’ve hugged Kane if I weren’t too afraid he would knock me on my butt.

                             Aaron lives. My prayers were answered.

                             Then... what? What do I do once he returns? It doesn’t really matter. All I want is to see him outside of that blood pool. Breathing. Alive.

                             The past few days, all I could sketch were fragments of rubbish. My muse abandoned me ever since Aaron was shot.

                             I don’t know what to feel about that.

                             Indistinct chatter in the hall pulls me from my thoughts. I hide the journal under the pillow and get out of my room. Kane’s bulky silhouette stands in front of Aaron’s bedroom. When his gaze meets mine, he nods, a little smile plays on his lips as he motions for me to go inside.

                             He’s back?

                             My steps are inaudible to my own ears as I brush past Kane. Tristan and Dylan stand by the entrance. Their intense stares fall on me, but they’re not the reason I freeze in place.

                             It’s Aaron, sitting on the edge of his bed in one of his black suits. Only this time, it doesn’t outline his powerful physique. His shoulders hunch forward, the jacket barely clings to them. He definitely lost weight. His face is a pale shade of white as if whatever medication they gave him bleached his skin. His full lips have lost their beauty, covered with dry cracks. But his eyes, God, his eyes seem to have sunk into their sockets, leaving place for dark holes instead.

                             When his gaze bores into mine, there’s an unusual softness in it. If I wasn’t being delusional, I would call it relief.

                             I confront Tristan. “How can you bring him back when he’s half dead?” I point at Aaron’s irregular breathing. He’s been panting ever since I entered. “What kind of a brother are you?”

                             Tristan glances between Dylan and Aaron, amusement glinting his eyes. “See? I told you she’s feisty.”

                             A small smile tugs on Dylan’s lips, but he says nothing.