OLEANDER
I stood rooted to the spot, watching what was happening with wide, unblinking eyes.
The man who had shoved me earlier was involved.
He was sitting on top of another man, already dead.
Yeah, dead, because his heart lay beside him.
Blood was everywhere.
On the walls.
On the floor.
Splattered across the bodies of those trying to pull him away from the corpse.
But he wouldn’t yield.
My stomach clenched, my knees trembled, and my heart began to pound violently.
This was the same thing I had walked in on six years ago.
More gruesome, but still enough to jolt my mind back into the past.
“Why?” I whispered, tears brimming in my eyes.
Why would anyone want to kill their fellow human?
The fact that he didn’t look remorseful—no, that he was smiling—made everything feel far more wrong.
And no, he wasn’t the only one treating it like a game.
All of them were laughing.
Only one person was crying.
A girl close to my age.
She must have been close to the victim.
“Dane! You bastard!” she screeched.
“Why did you do that?!”
“Why?” Dane asked, a smile stretched across his face.
“Because he came at me first, bitch. Get the fuck out of my face, or you’ll meet the same fate!”
“That’s my mate you just killed!” she cried, ignoring the threat in his words.
But Dane only laughed, wild and unhinged.
I was the only one who truly understood her pain.
Her grief.
I had been in her position once.
I had lost everyone I loved to a cruel man.
“You shouldn’t be here, Oleander!” Celina said behind me, clutching my hand and tugging me toward the door.
I turned, glaring at her through blurred vision, and yanked my hand free.
I jabbed my finger in the direction of the maniac.
“He just killed someone!” I shouted.
“Are we going to pretend nothing happened and go on with our lives because it’s Halloween? Because it’s bound to happen?”
My voice rang out, silencing everyone in the room.
“Oleander,” Celina murmured, her eyes narrowing, darting back and forth like she was looking for someone to pin the blame on.
“I can’t fucking pretend, okay?!” I yelled.
I wiped a single tear that slipped from the corner of my eye, sniffing hard.
“If it’s so hard for everyone to call the police, then I’ll do it myself and have this criminal arrested!”
I stalked toward the door.
My step faltered, and I flinched as someone suddenly stood there, blocking my path.
“You won’t be doing such a thing,” he grunted.
“Why?” I snapped.
He didn’t answer but held my gaze and barked out his order.
“Someone clean up this mess. And Celina,” he murmured, briefly glancing away from me.
“You know what to do with that piece of shit. Silver verdict until my order comes.”
“Yes, sir!” Celina said.
“What the hell is that?” I asked, confused.
I looked at Dane and saw the color drain from his face.
For the first time, he actually looked afraid.
Hex’s hand snaked around my wrist, tugging.
“Come with me.”
“I don’t want to go anywhere with you,” I said stubbornly.
I tried to resist his pull, but Hex was stronger than I.
So he succeeded in dragging me out of the house, ignoring my scream to let go.
Outside the building, he dropped his hand and took a step back.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” he grunted, glaring at me.
“What?” I asked in disbelief.
“Shouldn’t you be addressing what happened inside rather than—”
He cut me off, speaking through clenched teeth.
“Celina told you to stay out of it, but you just had to go in there. Are you so eager to die?!”
I flushed, scowling at him.
The short answer to his question was: yes.
But only after killing Dante.
Hex drove his fingers through his hair, letting out a frustrated sigh.
He glanced at me briefly, then turned away, taking a step.
“Fuck it,” he grunted, spinning around and backing me into the nearest wall.
I gasped as my back hit it.
I blinked up at Hex, my body reacting to the sudden heat emanating from his.
My stomach tightened, skin tingled, and every sense was on alert as he placed one hand above my head, staring down at me with those beautiful brown eyes—now considerably darker.
I shivered, my legs weakening under the weight of his sheer masculine aura.
It wasn’t just Dante who had an energy that threatened to choke the breath out of me when he was near; Hex did too.
But for some reason, I preferred Hex’s.
Maybe because it wasn’t as malevolent as Dante’s, and even though I was mad at him, I couldn’t help but feel a strange sense of comfort right now.
“You’re making this really hard for me,” he said, his voice softer now, so was his expression.
I stared as his finger reached up and tucked a loose lock of hair behind my ear.
I sucked in a deep breath when it brushed against my skin.
“How so?” I managed to ask, my voice barely above a whisper.
“How do I defend my actions if you keep endangering yourself intentionally?” he asked, his brows creasing.
“You’re weird,” I murmured, reaching out to shove at his chest, but my hands stayed there instead.
His chest was solid, defined.
He must train hard to maintain it.
Heat bloomed in my palms and, involuntarily, my fingers reached for the top button of his shirt.
I swear, I didn’t know what got into me.
Maybe Halloween was messing with my head, too.
Hex caught my hand, stopping me mid-action.
I froze, flushing as I looked up at him.
“I wouldn’t touch me like that if I were you,” he said.
“I… I—” I stuttered, quickly pulling my hand back.
God, this was humiliating.
Why the hell did I do that?
“I’m sorry,” I whispered, eyes locked on the ground.
I couldn’t bring myself to look at him—I didn’t want to see disappointment written all over his face.
That would crush me.
I started to turn away, needing to escape the awkwardness, but he caught me again.
“You might be mad at me. Hate me. Wish I’d drop dead. That’s okay, Olea,” he murmured as he turned me gently to face him.
His face was bathed in moonlight, and for the first time, I saw it.
Pain.
Raw and unguarded.
His voice dropped, rough around the edges.
“I know you think you don’t need me. But just…give me the chance to protect you.”
“Why?” I asked, warily.
He made it sound like I belonged to him.
Like I was his responsibility.
God help me if he started demanding obedience next.
“Because I won’t forgive myself if something happens to you,” he said, holding my gaze.
“It’s my duty to protect what’s mine. And you’re mine.”
His words hit me like a punch to the chest.
Possessive.
Intense.
And yet, something in his eyes made it impossible to look away, like he was searching my face for something he wasn’t sure he’d find.
Neither of us spoke.
Then a distant but distinct sound snapped the moment.
Hex stiffened.
He dropped my hand and took a step back, the warmth between us replaced with cold air.
“See you around,” he muttered.
Before I could even form a reply, he had already turned and was walking away.
“Thanks for making me an object,” I muttered under my breath, glaring at his retreating form.
So much for wanting to protect me.
How was he going to do that if he kept disappearing in the middle of every conversation?
I glanced around.
I was alone again, and the silence was suddenly too loud.
I heard it again—a low growl, closer this time.
Too close.
My breath caught, heart hammering in my chest.
I didn’t wait to find out what it was.
I turned and hurried back inside as every instinct screamed at me to run.