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“So you say Nick died. How did he die?” I ask Frank carefully.

Frank grimaces, as if he needs to think about the answer. “In combat, of course.” The energy in the room shifts. It darkens as if being taken over by hell. No…not the energy. It’s Nick himself who has shifted—those violent eyes that shift with his emotions and the trick of the light. It makes me squirm.

Frank continues. “He was the best sniper this damn country ever had. No one’s ever come close to being as good as he was. Too bad he was an asshole and had to get himself offed the way he did.”

Chills run down my spine. I dare to glance at Nick, who is hardly recognizable anymore. “He’s not dead,” I say to Frank. “He’s standing right here.”

Frank snaps his head up, his attention drawn to the spot where Nick is standing. A palpable darkness fills the room, and Frank can only stare blankly, a huff escaping his lips. Nick remains silent, watching from the kitchen, yet Frank doesn’t even acknowledge his presence. Instead, a small sneer begins to twist Frank’s lips, his expression contorting with confusion. “Of course he’s dead,” Frank mutters. “Been dead for a year.”

My eyes widen as I try to decipher what Frank’s saying is true. I mean…of course it’s not true. Nick is standing right here. But Frank’s saying it with his whole heart.

I push myself up and away from the chessboard. “I’ll play with you later, okay?”

Frank crosses his arms. “Okay, Natty.” He closes his eyes, settles himself, and seemingly falls asleep within an instant.

I saunter over to Nick, who has now turned his back to me and finishes cooking whatever meat he was frying. The fresh garlic hits my nose. I hop up on the counter beside him. Whatever emotion just came over him is gone, his eyes are golden once again.

A few minutes pass. Nick and Frank don’t interact, and everything clicks in my mind. Frank believes Nick is dead and Natalie is alive.

Eventually, Nick slides in between my legs and I curl my ankles around his torso. Within a couple seconds, we kiss again until the food burns beside us.

I’m so taken aback by him. Smitten would hardly describe it. I just wish we met in different circumstances, and our relationship didn’t begin with abduction.

“What’s wrong with him?” I finally ask as he shifts his attention to sucking on my neck.

“I told you, baby. He’s very confused.”

I glance over at Frank, whose eyes are closed—oblivious to the fact we are making out near him. “He thinks you’re dead,” I say in a low voice. “Why does he think that?”

His jaw tenses, his eyes swirling. A smile touches his lips, but the emotion in his gaze is far more complex. “Technically, I am.”

My head is heavy again, the room closing in. I look up into his eyes, which seem so full of life. “I don’t understand.”

He grabs my hands so calmly, so collected, while soft snores radiate from where Frank is sitting, sleeping without care in the world. I draw my attention back to Nick, who hasn’t stopped looking at me.

“I died in combat, Layla. I’m not really here. At least to him I’m not.”

His hands find my sides. I shouldn’t like him touching me like this. I shouldn’t want this type of attention from him. He hurt me…I’m wrecked because of him.

“Frank’s mind is playing on a loop,” he says. “Every time he wakes up, it’s the same thing. He wants dinner, and he plays chess with Natalie. She cooked him dinner, and they played for a few hours before she got called into town for working the night shift.”

Nick stops and stares as I try to catch up with what he’s telling me. “He had the condition before, but that’s the day it got worse. That was the day you killed her, baby.”

Nick’s eyes are no longer kind…and I’m acutely aware he has me trapped inside him. Trapped inside this house, trapped inside my mind, and whatever twisted game he is playing with me.

A single tear falls down my cheek, and this time Nick doesn’t wipe it. He lets me feel every shameful, nasty emotion that comes swarming through me. She was a daughter, a sister, and I took her from them.

“She was my twin sister. It’s quite easy to pretend to be her, especially since he can’t see a thing anymore. I feed him, we play chess. He gets confused and angry sometimes. And other times, when he falls asleep, I don’t expect him to wake up. And there are moments I consider killing him myself, to put him out of his damn misery.”

“Nick…” I choke out. Still, something’s not adding up. “Why doesn’t he acknowledge you? Obviously, you’re not dead.”

He cups my cheek. “What makes you think I’m not dead? I’ve had everything stripped from me, wildling. It’s why I live way out here, where no one can find me. I took you here so no one can find you either.”

Pure terror courses through my bones as the shift happens deep inside him. The Archer skims to the surface, causing my heart to beat like thunder. Nick died in combat. Or at least a version of him did. Either way, Nick’s not with us in this moment.

He nibbles on my ear, causing wetness to form between my thighs. “You’re dead now too, Layla, and that means I can do whatever I want with you.”

Chapter 18