Total pages in book: 128
Estimated words: 121310 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 607(@200wpm)___ 485(@250wpm)___ 404(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 121310 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 607(@200wpm)___ 485(@250wpm)___ 404(@300wpm)
When Domhnall looks at his fiancée, he sees the love of his life—sweet, steady Anna. But when she stares back, sometimes it's not Anna at all.
It’s Mads. Sharp-tongued. Chaotic. The first girl who ever made him feel seen. And now she wants him back—in every filthy, feral way imaginable.
But what do you do when you're in a love triangle with two women sharing a single body and a single heart. Not to mention a single history carved with secrets that enmesh all three of you in a darkness you haven't even yet begun to understand.
Anna swears she doesn’t mind sharing.
But how long can three people survive in one love story before something shatters?
He thought he could love them both. He was wrong.
Because Mads doesn’t share.
She split to survive. Now the pieces may just tear them all apart.
This is the sequel to 7 Days and the final book in the Carnal Games Series. Reading 7 Days first would make for the most enjoyable reading experience. Please also This book contains intense themes of trauma and abuse, violence, trafficking, and mental illness. For a full list of TWs, visit stasiablack.com
*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************
PLAYLIST
Hi Ren Ren
Who Needs Enemies Diana Goldberg
Smoke & Trouble Society of Villains
Behind The Scenes TEYA
Trauma Cheska Moore
Carry You Home by Alex Warren
Mutiny Neoni
Diagnosis Alanis Morisette
Who Do You Want Ex Habit
Paint The Town Red Doja Cat
Dangerous Hands Austin Giorgio
Breakin’ Dishes Rihanna
That’s So True Gracie Abrams
Nasty Tinashe
Kill For You Skylar Grey & Eminem
Put it on Me Matt Maeson
ONE
DOMHNALL
The club is empty, and the echo of my footsteps feels unnaturally quiet without the usual cacophony of laughter and moans. There's only the steady tick of the clock on the far wall and low, amber lighting that casts faint shadows, softening the edges of the space.
I see her before she notices me, standing on the stage with one hand resting lightly on the velvet curtain. Her head is tilted, and her profile is softened by the amber glow of the after-hours sconce lighting.
"Anna," I call, my voice breaking the silence. "What are you doing here? I thought you were spending the night at my sister's?"
She turns at the sound of my voice, her movements slow, deliberate. When she faces me, her lips curve into a small, hesitant smile. "I needed to see you," she says softly, almost shyly. "I… I wanted to talk. In the place where we first met. Well, met for real."
I pause, studying her. There's something different about her tonight, though I can't quite put my finger on it.
"Couldn't it wait 'til morning?" I keep my tone gentle. She's moved in with me and we've been happy, but life hasn't been without its bumps in the road. She still has nightmares and always wants to make love afterward. We do, but sometimes, I can't tell if it's Mads or Anna I'm with. In the morning, Anna says never to ask—that deep down, it's always her, no matter which alter I'm with.
But then last week, Anna found her dresses had been shredded with scissors, even though she doesn't remember doing it.
Her therapist thinks Mads is acting out at night. I set up cameras around the house after that to see what her alter might be getting up to while we're both asleep, but there's been nothing since, just my fiancé sleeping beside me in bed. We always knew her coming back from Chicago and living with me might stir things up.
Anna shakes her head, a small motion, almost nervous. "No," she says, stepping closer. "It couldn't wait."
I frown slightly, taking her in as she moves into the light and walks down the few stairs from the stage to the main floor. Her shoulders are rounded, as if she's carrying some invisible weight. There's a vulnerability in the way she looks at me, her arms crossed lightly, holding herself.
"I'm here now. What is it?"
Her breath catches as if she's searching for the right words. "I just…" she begins, her voice trembling slightly. She looks away for a moment. When she looks back at me, her eyes are glistening. "I didn't think it would be like this. I don't want to share you."
The words land softly, but they're still like a knife through my chest.
I stride closer. I worried that having sex with Mads might be upsetting to her, even though she swears up and down she doesn't mind and that it's actually helping her integrate. "Share me? You know you don't have to share me. I only love you. All of you. It's only ever been you."
She takes another step closer, her movements unsteady, like she's unsure of herself. "But you spend so much time with her," she murmurs, her voice almost breaking.
Does she mean at night? Is there something she hasn't been telling me?
Her fingers twitch at her sides before she reaches out, brushing them lightly against my jaw. The touch is fleeting, tentative. "She understands you… in ways I don't. And I can't stop thinking about it."
There's a softness in her tone that makes me hesitate, but something still feels… off. Her words, her gestures—they're just a little too precise, like an actor in a well-rehearsed role. I watch her closely and stiffen as I try to read what's beneath the surface.
"Anna," I say slowly, careful not to startle her. "Please, talk to me. Tell me what's wrong."
She takes a shaky breath, and for a moment, I see a flicker of something darker behind her eyes. She steps closer again, her fingers trailing to cup my cheek, the touch firmer now. "You're mine," she whispers, her voice dipping, the softness replaced by something sharper, more insistent. "Aren't you, Domhnall?"
Her words hang in the air between us, thick with implications I can't ignore. Her fingers linger against my cheek, the warmth of her touch belying the sharpness in her eyes.
"You're mine, aren't you?" she repeats, her voice softer this time. Coaxing, but with an edge that cuts deeper.
I don't move. I don't even breathe for a moment, studying her as her thumb brushes against my jaw. This close, the cracks in her facade are harder to miss. The subtle lift of her chin. The challenge hidden in her eyes.