Misted (Team Zero #5) by Rina Kent

A strong hand clasps around my bicep and drags me back so he’s once again standing several feet above me. He smells of the pine in the forest and the freedom of the sea. I can’t help sniffing like an addict.

“This is a private island,” he says. “Guards are all over the shores. There’ll be no escaping.”

My hopes shrivel and crush at the bottom of my stomach. A tremor shoots down my arms. “No. There must be a way.” Tears sting my eyes. “I can’t do this anymore. I have to leave. I have to –”

Hawk cuts me off by shaking my shoulder, his brows drawing together. “I thought you were strong? I thought you were above Omega?”

I was a big fat liar. I’m not strong. I can’t keep taking that drug and let it erase everything. Sometimes, I wake up and don’t even know what or who the hell I am.

“If I stay here, I'll become whatever they’re making us. I’ll even forget about Shadow and Ghost and… you. We have to escape.”

“We will.” He runs the back of his knuckles against my cheek in a slow stroke. I lean into his touch, compelled to close my eyes and purr like a satisfied kitten.

“One day, we’ll escape this hell.” The tenor of his voice softens. “I'll take you to France.”

“France?” I hiccough.

“I don’t remember much about my life, but I remember France, an azure sea and beautiful, old towns. I’ll take you there.”

Whoa. That’s the most talk Hawk has done in months.

“Promise?” I look up at him.

“Only if you promise to stay strong. If you lose yourself, I won’t take you with me.” He reaches into his back pocket and hands me a small, pointy dagger that he’s always kept on him and places it in my hand. “This will seal our deal.”

“Hug.” I wrap my arms around his waist and bury my face in his strong, comforting chest. I breathe in his scent and his addictive warmth.

When I'm drowning, I can use him as a shore.

When I want it all over, I only stay alive because I know he’ll be in the waiting room the following day.

He's my light at the end of the dark tunnel and I’ll reach it even if I have to crawl.

“I’ll be strong. I promise!”

He pats the top of my hair. “That’s my hellion.”



Present,

I don’t know where that memory came from or why now, but it’s the wrong damn memory.

If it’s because he called me ‘Hellion’, then he has nothing of the warmth and care he had back then.

Hawk is still imprisoning my arm behind my back with his huge body glued all over mine. Almost two decades later and he still towers over me, dwarfing me. Only this time, he doesn't make me feel protected. The hard ridges of his shoulders stiffen with clear menace.

He hates me now.

His dark energy drifts all around me and seeps under my skin like a venomous poison.

Who can blame him? I put us in this situation. Yet, a part of me aches at being hated by him.

The more logical part itches to slap him. Why is he touching me after the unspoken pact that he’d never do it anymore?

I can't fight how my body visibly leans into him. How my nipples tighten and pucker against my dress. How his mere presence shoots the familiar ache between my legs. He still smells of ocean and the hint of smoke. I can't help inhaling deeply like a drug addict needing her fix.

Hawk has always been a forbidden fantasy.

Like all forbidden fantasies, I'm tempted to let it consume me, break me apart, and crush me to pieces.

Not today, Satan.

I attempt to wiggle free, but he tightens his hold on my imprisoned wrist and grabs my hip with his free hand so he’s forcing me to stay put.

A moan lodges at the back of my throat as a flicker of heat engulfs my body. Oh, sweet agony. If there's anything I can't resist about Hawk, then it’s his devilish controlling side. It always brings images of him on top of me, inside me, and all around me.

Damn me. Those were the wrong images to rid me of this hyperawareness.

At this rate, all my weakness will spill forward.

Don’t be alone with him.

“Hawk, let me go!” I grind my teeth.

He leans over, hot breaths tickling my ear as he murmurs in a raspy tone, “Not anymore, Hellion.”

I bite my lower lip so hard, I nearly draw blood.

Stop calling me that when you don't mean it. Stop tarnishing my beautiful memories!

I fist my free hand and swing it straight at his jaw. My knuckles explode in pain, but it’s doesn’t compare to how it pains me to hurt him in any way.

But pain is all that we have. Pain is everything we need anymore.

Before he can recover, I twist my wrist free and shove him away. My breaths come out harsh, and my hands tremble as if I’m coming down from Omega’s withdrawal.

I cross my arms over my chest to prevent showing the shaking and how my hard nipples strain against the cloth. “Don’t ever touch me again.”

He laughs, the sound low and bitter. Then, all fake humour washes from his face as he brings his fingers to the reddening spot in his jaw. “Good to know you hate me as much as I hate you.” He advances towards me. Everything in me urges my body to step back, but that’s exactly what he wants. I guard my stance and jut out my chin.

He stops within a small distance, his face stone cold. “It’s time for my retribution. I’ll make you fall from that high and mighty pedestal you kept on climbing all these years.”