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Xander may as well chuck me in a basement and lock the door with the chains he used in his bedroom the night of the storm.

The most annoying thing about it is that I see him. I see beneath his exterior and his actions. Because underneath that cold, hard exterior is probably a boy that was never loved correctly.

Loved.

I keep telling myself that Xander isn’t Luke. But every time Xander tries to do something for me, it brings back those sick feelings of being trapped.

Maybe I’m just not capable of love. Maybe I am just good for my body after all.

As if loved isn’t a scary word in itself. Because I’m slowly realising that the thing that causes those fluttering feelings in my stomach to erupt whenever he’s around might be something stronger than ‘like’.

I watch as his muscles ripple with movement as he drives us to wherever it is we’re going. The whole time, I sit silent, and so does Xander.

Finally, he takes a left into what looks like a long path covered with arches of trees. The road continues on for a few minutes before the trees give way and reveal a huge, beautiful oak lodge. Black-rimmed floor-to-ceiling windows span around it, leaving only accents of the dark wood.

I sit up straight in the seat, the leather groaning beneath me. To the left is a small lake with water lilies floating across it. The orange and brown of the autumnal trees makes the scene look like it’s straight out of a film.

The car stops, and Xander turns off the engine. “Happy birthday.”

A lump constricts my throat as I whip my wide gaze to him.

I blink away from him, twiddling my hands in my lap.

How do you tell the man you’re involved with that your mother was murdered on your sixteenth birthday? That your ex and his mates raped you every single year on your birthday, while singing the traditional song and laughing about it. All the while you’re detached from your body from the amount of drugs they’ve forced in you.

How do I tell him that I almost died escaping him two years ago on the day of my birthday?

How do I tell him things that I’ve never told anyone before? Because it’s easier to keep it all in and block it out instead of resurfacing those memories.

But maybe this is my chance to refabricate my birthday.

My limbs grow heavy, and my eyes blur the sight of my restless hands.

Xander’s gentle hand reaches out towards the chin tucked into my chest and lifts it, but I keep my eyes cast downwards.

“Look at me,” he demands softly. And like a moth to a flame, I do. I swallow past the lump in my throat as I focus myself on him. On the rough stubble of his chin that scratches every time he kisses me. The eyes that admire me like I’m the only thing that matters. The neatly styled hair that ends up messy when I run my fingers through it.

“What the fuck did he do to you?”

The silence stretches between us before he sighs in defeat and clenches his jaw. He nods to himself as if confirming something. Then his hand leaves my chin, and he exits the car.

I blow out a breath, clearing my brain of the unpleasant thoughts that were quickly manifesting.

A tiny meow fills the silent car. I gasp, looking over to the passenger seat to see Obsidian yawning and gracefully stretching on the leather.

My door is pulled open, and Xander ducks his head inside, sliding his arms under my legs and round my back. He picks me up like I weigh nothing and carries me towards the lodge.

Besides myself, I giggle. A smile appears on his face, displaying that dimple that I so rarely see. But then again, I never smile either.

“You brought Sid?”

Xander rolls his eyes, but his mouth twitches at the corner.

“What is this?” I ask as he pushes a key into the door and places me down.

I step into the warm lodge. Cosy and decorated with various woodland ornaments. The bottom floor is an open-plan kitchen and sitting room. To the side is a small toilet and polished wooden stairs leading upstairs. It’s simple, rustic, and lavish at the same time.

“Wow,” I whisper, taking it all in.