not the land of the free

It was strange, to say the least. Rayne had always been used to being alone—away from family, with no friends. But this was different. Being alone without any other options felt unsettling, like something was missing. A sharp pain lingered in her chest whenever she thought about Enzo. Why? She couldn’t say. But he had offered her something—companionship she had come to both resent and rely on. Even now, her body ached in a way that didn’t quite make sense, considering she was supposed to be at peace, or at least she was trying to be.
She tried to convince herself that time would make it easier—that eventually, she would heal.

That’s why she kept moving, traveling aimlessly. She was searching for something, anything—a place to rest her head, a place with four walls, somewhere familiar. She was holding on to whatever shred of her old life she could. But the life she found herself living now had a strange way of playing tricks on her.

Her dainty paws carried her effortlessly through the terrain, the shade of overhanging branches offering a brief respite from the scorching sun. She needed a moment to catch her breath and maybe find something to eat, since hunger was starting to gnaw at her. That felt odd, too. Her shoulders rolled beneath her pelt as her paws carried her left, over a small hill. What she saw on the other side made her stomach drop, her throat tightening in disbelief.

That split face. Those mismatched eyes. That massive frame.

Her jaws parted, and she froze, staring at him in stunned silence. There was no way this could be real. No way she could be seeing him. She was dead, wasn’t she? You didn’t dream when you were dead… right? She was facing him head on, as though they were meant to meet dead in the middle of the hill as they traveled in opposite directions before eventually meeting each other. “No...” her head shook, “ no, this isn't right, this can't be right.” She wasn't dreaming, and there was no way he made it to heaven, too.
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That scent touches all of his senses. It makes him freeze, facing into the gentle wind so he can inhale it with every breath. He'd know it anywhere. In any life. This one. The next one. The last one. Rayne. Fresh, straight from the source. It's not just a distant memory, one that faded from his bed with each passing day. Looking up the hill, she's standing there, like she's descending from the heavens. Like she's returning. How fitting that she does so in front of him. Still, its shocking. His head lifts, ears shoving forward as his attention zeroes in on her. Her scent, its too right to be any forgery. Its Rayne. There isn't a doubt in his mind. And yet? Its not possible. She's dead. He watched her end it. He watched as she disappeared over the edge. He listened as her body hit the rocks below. He smelled the sickening scent of death when he approached the cliff. Rayne is dead. He knows it in his soul. 

But there she is. Staring at him with wide eyes, like she can't also believe what she's seeing. She says something, but he can't quite make it out. He can guess though, when she starts shaking her head in denial. She thought she had escaped him. She thought she was free. A slow grin stretches across his lips. Its beautifully dangerous. Not even death could keep her from him. He'd find her in every single one of her lives. 

His approach is unhurried. He takes an almost lazy step forward, like he's got all the time in the world to catch her. He ascends the hill, his eyes never leaving hers. Not a sound parts his lips. All of his focus zeroes in on her; like a predator stalking his prey. It wouldn't be the first time he's dragged her home against her will and doing it again isn't beneath him. Years later, he still manages to find her, if that isn't fate, he doesn't know what is. She can hate it all she wants, but they are written in the stars. Their souls intertwined. Rayne is his. Mind. Body. Soul.
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Her words are sharp as claws against his skin. You forced me to! His lips pressed into a thin line simply to avoid curling high above his fangs. Velvety lips still twitched with the desire, which was thankfully hidden from her view. Lorenzo chose to ignore it, he isn't here to rehash her dead boyfriend. The man had been destined to die at someones hand because Enzo knows with every fiber of his being, that he would have killed the man for trying to pry Rayne from him. She'd have left him for Rueben too. He knows that. He's not stupid. But Rayne belongs to him. From the night that he saved her, she has been his. Nothing and no one could change that. Not even death. 

It appeases him to some degree. If Death can't take her from him, then truly nothing can. She's meant to be his, to be at his side. Eventually, she'd see it too. 

Until then, he didn't doubt that she'd fight him tooth and nail. 

I don't want to do this anymore, Enzo. His jaws part to speak, but she presses on. Why can't you just let me go? Its something he's asked himself many times over the seasons since she died - that much he is sure of. But now? Now he knows the answer. "Because I love you." It doesn't occur to him that no time has passed for her, since her death until now. He only knows the endless days he'd spent missing her. Thats all different now. Now that she's been returned to him. Again, he runs his nose down her neck and lazily back up. Rayne is once again tangible under him. He doesn't have to imagine her. She's here. Her body warm. Her scent fresh. Her desire just as real as it always was, no matter how much she hated him. 

That added sweetness to her scent does little to help his once flawless self control. Too bad she's just as reckless with herself as she'd been before. Attempting to harness that chaotic energy around him, he does little more than linger; watching, feeling her reaction. He never got a chance to say it before. Not that he knew thats what he felt back then. He almost expects her rebuttal, her blatant refusal that he's capable of such a thing. He very nearly welcomes it, knowing that it won't change a thing and the sooner she gets on board, the sooner they can move forward.
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Its obvious in her reaction that she is unprepared for his declaration. She has every right to be unprepared, not once has he ever given her a reason to think that he loves her, that he is capable of loving her. He's done nothing but keep her under him. Like a wrecking ball, he invaded her life with little regard for anything else she had going on. One look and she belonged to him. Her friends, her family, her boyfriend, they were all insignificant that night. It is true, that she started out as nothing but a mere possession, a wet hole that he loved sticking his dick in. But that changed, whether she likes it or not, whether she believes it or not. Her struggling ceases and she peers up at him; her expression pinching, her confusion and disbelief evident. Enzo watches, as the gears of her mind turn, trying to make sense of his words. Until no... In typical Rayne fashion, she digs her heels in and resists. 

No, you don't get to do that, Enzo! He arches a brow, as if to say he just did. No one has ever been able to tell him what he can or can't do. She hasn't yet tried hard enough to bring him to heel. His father raised a monster, one that is more than capable of defending his empire, of expanding it. A tyrant in his prime. Its benefited him greatly in life. Its gotten him everything he's ever wanted. Until Rayne. She struggled in his grasp and yet at the same time, she yielded to him so beautifully. Its toxic. He knows it. And loves it. Their constant game of push and pull. The way he bends and molds her -or tries to- into someone with the strength to stand beside him. But is she truly capable? She did leap off a cliff after all. 

I don't love you.

Four words that cut right through his hide. Merciless like a dull blade so he feels every inch of her knife. His head rears back from her, like she struck him with her words. Enzo isn't so naive as to believe that she'd just roll over and profess her own love for him. He isn't waiting for her declaration, for her tears of joy or her unending kisses. He anticipates her anger, her rejection, her generally sour attitude. But this? This he definitely did not anticipate. This hurts. Its like losing her all over again.

And yet he doesn't believe her. 

Mismatched eyes narrow. He's seen her smile when she greets him. He knows the way her body sings for him, no matter how angry she is. He hasn't forgotten the way she slept snuggled into his side. Leaning in close, his nose nearly touches hers. "I don't believe you." Each word is slowly drawn out, carefully annunciated. Maybe its true right now, in this very moment as she comes to terms with the fact that she can't truly escape him. But deep down, where it really counts, she's lying. To herself. To him. Its enough to make his lip curl; just barely, but enough that the tips of his canines peek out at her.
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