Torn (A Wicked Saga, #2)

“No,” I agreed. He was right. “Doubt it’s going to go over well for either of us.”


Ren turned his body toward me. Our gazes met for a moment, and then I focused my eyes on the bedspread again. Deep inside, my chest ached as if it had been cracked wide open. A moment passed. “I really don’t care about any of that right now,” he said. “Maybe that’s the wrong thing to be thinking, but I don’t give two fucks about the Order. I don’t want to talk about them. I want to talk about us.”

My heart turned over. I wasn’t sure I was ready for this conversation, because I knew what was coming. I bent my knees, tugging the edges of the robe over them. “I’m kind of sleepy. I mean, it’s been a really long night and I just want—”

“Don’t,” he said, his voice so soft that I had to look at him, and I lost the ability to look away. “Don’t shut me out, Ivy. I know I deserve it if you do, but please don’t.”

“You deserve it?” My voice cracked. What in the world was he talking about? I didn’t get it. How could he really think all of this was his fault? Words tumbled out in a rush. “He pretended to be you.”

Ren drew back, his shoulders stiffening.

“Did you know that?” I asked, but went on before he could answer. “After you left Monday night, no one knew where you were Tuesday. Then you—or I thought it was you—showed up on Wednesday, and you said it didn’t matter what I was. That you still wanted to be with me, and I was . . . I was just so desperate to believe that, that I didn’t see what was right in front of me. He pretended to be you—looked like you, sort of sounded like you, but he wasn’t you. I should’ve realized immediately that it wasn’t you, but I didn’t until later that day. I should’ve known immediately.”

“I know he pretended to be me,” Ren stated. “Or at least that was what I was told the first day at that damn house. He told me what he was going to do. I remember him feeding on me, and then he fucking turned into me. I tried to get out of there, but fuck, I was chained to the goddamn wall.”

My stomach clenched. “How much of your time there do you remember?”

His chest rose with a deep breath. “Not a whole lot after the first day, but enough to have a to-kill list a mile long.”

“Do you . . . do you remember a Breena?” I asked, and then winced, because maybe I shouldn’t have asked about her.

His eyes narrowed. “She’s number two on my to-kill list. The prince is number one. She was a fucking parasite who had serious boundary issues.”

I flinched, knowing what he meant. I wanted to ask him if what Breena claimed was true, if they did things—if she did things to him—but the words died on my tongue. I could be honest with myself. I wasn’t mentally or emotionally ready to hear all of that. So all I said was, “I gouged her eyes out. Well, I tried.”

One side of his mouth curled up. “You did?”

I nodded. “I really did not like her.”

His grin faded as he studied me. Maybe he knew why I’d done it. “What did you—?” He stopped himself with a shake of his head. “You’re being too hard on yourself. That bastard didn’t even make it a day pretending to be me.”

“I should have known.”

Grief settled into the striking lines of his face. “Ivy—”

“He didn’t like beignets. I should’ve known right then that he wasn’t you. And it was the way he talked. It was so formal. He killed Henry. Snapped his neck. Right there, in front of me, for no reason, and I still didn’t realize it wasn’t you. He claimed that Henry knew what I was, and I believed him, even though deep down I knew if Henry or Kyle knew I was the . . . the halfling, they wouldn’t have let me live for any reason. But I . . . I wanted it so badly to be you, for you to be magically okay with what I was,” I explained, wrapping my arms around my knees. “And if Henry hadn’t showed up, I . . .”

“I heard from Brighton that Henry was missing. I figured he was dead. I don’t know the details,” he said after a moment. “What about if Henry hadn’t showed up?”

I closed my eyes, resting my cheek on my knees. Acid churned in my stomach. “I thought he was you,” I whispered.

“I know that. When I saw him, I thought he was me. Total mind fuck. So I get it.” A heartbeat passed. “Did he . . . did he touch you?”

Turning my head so my face was between my knees, I made fists with my hands. “It didn’t get very far.” My voice was muffled and my face burned. “We were at your place. Henry showed up, looking for you. He . . . he interrupted it.”

Silence.

Then Ren growled. “Fuck.”