I woke with a start, and ever since then, I've been lying here with his arms around me, trying not to think about how safe and cherished he makes me feel. His warm breath caresses the back of my neck, deep and even in sleep. The scent of brandy invades my senses and I can only hope that he's drunk. I need to move. I need to go while I still can, while I still have a shred of strength against this...this morbid love I feel for him.

I pull out of his arms and sit up, carefully opening the bedside drawer and searching for the knife he keeps there to cut me with. My hand brushes the handle. I grab it then turn over to face him. He's lying on his back, his beautiful face pinched and troubled in sleep. I wonder if he senses something wrong from his dream world, if he feels the impending betrayal. My heart lets out several staggered beats as though it's physically breaking. Maybe it is. Ronan Cole is the devil and he has claimed my soul. He's the only man who has ever protected me, but I don't need it and I shouldn't crave it. I'm Camilla Estrada, and he is the difference between the woman I should be and a woman who would betray her own brother. He says I make him weak, that I am like fire—but he reduces me to ash. He doesn't just make me weak, he makes me want to sacrifice everything for him, including myself. He's my own worst nightmare disguised as a dark and bloodied fairytale. And yet I crave him with a need that grips me to my very core. My soul feels as though it's tearing itself in two. I have to kill him. I know I do. This was always the plan. He was always to be my victim, slain at the hands of the whore in his bed.

I stare at his face, committing every perfect detail to memory before I lift a shaking hand and place the blade to his throat. Pausing, I press my lips against his. His breath hitches and his hand instinctively slides over my waist, pulling me closer. Tears track down my cheeks, sealing our kiss. "I love you," I whisper against his mouth, and then I yank the blade over his throat while a desperate sob breaks through my lips. His eyes flash open at the same time as his hands go to his throat. I climb off the bed, watching his blood spill over the sheets, watching him struggle, knocking things off the bedside table.

"I'm sorry," I choke, grabbing a coat and throwing the door open.

I stagger from Ronan's room with his blood coating my hands. A choked breath breaks from my lips and my chest feels as though it's physically breaking open. God, what is this?

Clutching my chest, I stumble down the stairs and hurry through the house. I find my way to the garage and fumble with the sets of keys on the wall before pressing a key fob. A Range Rover chirps and the indicators flash. I run over to the car and get in, adrenaline firing through my veins as I start the engine. There's a remote for the garage door in the center console. I press it and the garage door lifts, revealing the bright, white snow glowing against the darkness of the night sky. I slam the accelerator to the floor and the car dashes forward, tires squealing as it peels out of the garage.

Everything around me passes in a blur. My body moves of its own violation without conscious thought. All I can think about is Ronan, his lips against mine before my blade opened his throat. Lust and hate, enemies and lovers—that has always been us. How many times have I told myself that I hate him? That I'm going to kill him? And yet now, I feel no sense of triumph, only emptiness. Like something inside me is suddenly missing. I fell in love with a monster, so I killed him.

My fingers tighten on the steering wheel and I clench my jaw, forcing all these wild emotions down. My loyalty is to my family now, my brother, my cartel, and my home. Being in Russia was all a situation of circumstance, something I should always have fought.

I brace myself as I send the car firing toward the front gate. Ronan's guards scramble before diving out of the way as I drive straight through it. Metal screeches as the gates tear from their hinges. With a glance in the rearview mirror, I watch Ronan's mansion disappear. It's nothing but destruction that I'm leaving in my wake.

When my heartrate slows and the adrenaline fades, my head begins to spin. My stomach grips and rolls violently and my vision spots. In a panic, I yank the car over to the side of the road where it crashes into the metal barrier. Throwing the door open, I lean over and vomit onto the icy road before climbing out. Something is wrong. Very wrong.

I stumble down an embankment that leads from the car into the forest. I'm burning up. The trees split in two in front of me. There's a sharp pain in my temples. Weakness overtakes me and I collapse into the deep snow. I should move, but I can't manage to even lift my head, and then everything goes black.