I arched a brow, let a sharp little smile show, and slowly pushed myself off the bed. Pain flared, but I gripped the metal rail and stood.
I straightened, face tight, and he watched me the whole time.
'I don't care about those idiots,' I said. 'I won't give the Organisation so much as a fingernail any more.' I pointed at him. 'You were my last mission. I'm done with them. I'll be free—soon.'
He pushed off the wall and came to stand in front of me. I had to tilt my chin up to meet his eyes. His well-shaped mouth moved.
'Hmm. Is that what you think?'
My heart stalled. I froze, staring. There was a strange light in his black eyes.
Something was wrong. He knew something I didn't.
I scraped my voice together and tried to say something—anything. When it finally came, it was all grit and bite.
'Of course I'm sure. I'm not going to be the Organisation's trained dog like you.'
Not a flicker crossed his face. That strange, dangerous light stayed in his eyes as he stared me down.
My palms were slick. I ignored the drum of my pulse and pushed on, glare locked on his. 'What, nothing to say? Not going to tell me why you're so damned loyal? They raised us like dogs—made us fight in the dirt for a scrap of bread like animals.'
My fists clenched; my voice kept climbing. 'Your mother died because of them. You were imprisoned for years because the Union and the Rose Organisation were at war. All of it—for what? For who? For the same Organisation that tossed you into a pit when you were just a kid because they thought you were useless?'
His calm only poured petrol on my fire. I couldn't stand that cold, unyielding look.
I closed the distance, pain lancing my leg, and planted myself right in front of him. 'I'm not like you. They didn't brainwash me. I won't let them steer me any more. I've got nothing left to lose—because the only thing that mattered is gone. I don't belong to any faction now, and I don't work for anyone. I'm walking out of that door and I'm living my own life.'
I jabbed a finger at his chest; it felt like hitting stone. 'You asked if I'm sure? Yeah. I'm sure. I finished my mission, and I can get out of this hell.'
The corner of his mouth slid up, flashing a neat row of teeth. His eyes were so black, so deep, they felt like a singularity pulling at my soul.
I swallowed, breath snagging. Light from the bedside lamp caught the tattoo on his collarbone—a snake, its eyes fixed on me. I dragged my gaze off the ink and back to his.
He leaned in, slow.
His lips hovered by my ear; the heat of his breath seared. His voice came low and rasped, pinning me to the moment. 'You really think they're going to set you free?'
It was like a live wire ran under my skin. My feet rooted to the floor.
He turned his face a fraction towards mine; his breath scorched my fevered cheek. 'The second you woke me with that c… code, you were a prisoner again.'
His hand slid to the back of my neck. His mouth brushed my earlobe as he whispered, emotionless and arctic, 'You belong to me until you die. I'm the spider, and you've wrapped your silk around me—y… you can't fly any more, little butterfly.'