Chapter 8

The sheets were twisted around Elena's legs like restraints when she jerked awake. A thin sheen of sweat clung to her skin. Her chest rose and fell rapidly, her heart thudding in her ears.

It had been a dream, no, a nightmare.

Or maybe something in between.

Cain’s voice still echoed in her mind, low and rough, whispering things that didn’t belong in her head. His hands, god, his hands had been on her in the dream. Not violently. Not gently either. Just enough to make her want more, enough to make her writhe beneath the weight of her desire.

Elena sat up, pressing her palms against her forehead. What the hell was wrong with her?

She dragged herself into the bathroom and stared at her reflection in the mirror. Her eyes looked haunted. Tired. Hungry in a way she didn’t want to name.

It was just a dream, she told herself as she turned on the faucet and splashed cold water on her face. She was human. Dreams weren’t always rational. It didn’t mean anything.

No. Get it together, Elena.

She had a session to prepare for. The first one for the week.

She dressed quickly, dark jeans, a button-down shirt, and a jacket. Professional enough. Nothing that could be mistaken for an invitation. But her stomach still twisted as she applied a subtle shade of lipstick. Why did it feel like she was getting ready for a date?

Because every time she saw Cain, it felt like something dangerous was about to happen.

She drove in silence, trying not to think too much, but her fingers tapped nervously against the steering wheel. By the time she reached the prison, her nerves were a slow burn just beneath her skin.

Cain was already in the room.

He always was.

He sat with one leg over the other, shackled hands resting on the table like ornaments. The guards closed the door behind her and the moment she stepped inside, something shifted in the air.

His gaze found hers instantly.

"Miss Elena," he said smoothly. “Did you miss me?”

She pulled her chair back without answering and sat. “I’m here to start our session for the week.”

Cain gave a lazy shrug. “Suit yourself. But if you’re going to keep asking about the darkness in me, I’d say it’s only fair I get to ask about yours.”

She didn’t flinch. “We agreed. You talk, I write.”

He leaned in, shackles clinking lightly. “You ask, and I answer. I ask, and you answer.”

She flipped to a blank page. “You said your sister changed you.”

Cain’s gaze sharpened, just a sliver. “I did.”

“But you grew up in a foster home. Your parents died when you were six, right?”

He nodded once.

“So… was she your sister?”

A pause.

“No,” he said finally. “Not by blood.”

“Then who was she?”

He was quiet for a moment. His jaw shifted slightly like he was debating whether to say anything at all.

“I met her when I was ten,” he said. “Another kid tossed into the system like trash. She’d been through four homes already. I was on my third. They stuck us in the same one.”

“You got close.”

“She was small. Smart. Could make anyone laugh except me. She didn’t try. That’s how I knew she was different.”

Elena scribbled quickly, but her eyes kept drifting back to him. “So you made her your family.”

“No,” he said. “She made me hers.”

Elena’s breath caught at the weight of those words.

“What was her name?”

Cain looked away like the name itself might be too sacred to say aloud.

“June.”

Elena swallowed hard.

“She was the only good thing in that place. I couldn’t keep her safe. I hate myself for it.”

“Because you didn’t show her how much you cared about her?”

“My turn,” he interrupted, voice lower now.

Elena blinked.

Cain leaned in slowly. “When was the last time you had sex?”

The question hit her like a slap.

“I’m not answering that.”

“Why not? You’re digging into the rawest parts of me. Isn’t it fair that I do the same?”

She tried to ignore the heat rising in her cheeks. “That’s not the same and you know it.”

“Sure it is,” Cain said softly. “You want to understand why I became what I am. I want to understand why you keep coming back here.”

She narrowed her eyes. “Because it’s my job.”

He chuckled. “Is that all it is?”

“Yes.”

Cain’s stare was relentless. “Are you sure about that?”

She didn’t respond.

He leaned back slightly, eyes raking over her with quiet intensity. “Fine. Let’s keep going.”

She swallowed and flipped the page, trying to regain control. “Did she know how much you cared about her?”

Cain tilted his head. “No, I didn’t show her. Because I know how much it will hurt if she knows she has someone and that person left.”

“That sounds… Sad.”

“It was.”

“Did you ever feel regret not showing her how much you cared?”

“I regretted not showing her.”

Elena paused her writing. “You really believe the world is that cruel?”

“I know it is.”

She pressed her lips together. “You said she…June changed you. But you still became this. You still killed someone.”

Cain’s smile faded. “Because she died. And the part of me she saved died with her.”

Silence fell like a blade between them.

Elena looked down at her notebook, heart thudding. “Was it worth it? Killing the man who hurt her?”

Cain didn’t answer right away.

Then, softly, “Yes.”

She felt the truth of it like an echo in her bones.

He watched her, eyes unreadable. “You didn’t answer my question.”

“What question?”

Cain's tone dropped to something quiet and lethal. “When you look at me, what do you feel? Do you feel… wet? Aroused?

“I told you already…”

“Not curious. Not fear. The truth, Elena.”

Her throat went dry.

He leaned forward, and even the steel cuffs on his wrists couldn’t dull the power in his voice. “Does your body betray you when I speak? Do you dream about me? Wake up wet and trembling and ashamed?”

“Stop,” she whispered.

“Tell me, sweetheart.”

She stood so fast her chair screeched. “This session is over.”

Cain rose, shackles clinking again, his height looming but his movements calm. “I’ll see you next week.”

Elena turned away, heart pounding.

Before she reached the door, his voice came again, lower, slower, deliberate.

“You’ll keep coming back, Elena. And we both know why.”