I grabbed him by the throat before he could react, holding him steady. My voice was honeyed, dangerous. “So. Tell me. Who’s behind all this, pumpkin?”
I let go, then hit him from the other side—had to balance the damage after all.
“And don’t you dare try speaking in Russian again,” I warned. In the video, he’d spoken to Glen, which meant he knew English. Glen wasn't the type to know anything outside his bubble.
He let out a ragged breath and tilted his head back, blood stringing from his lips as he rasped, “Ya tebya ne boyus.”
As soon as he said those words, the rage came—cool, blistering. Not fire, but ice.Sharp and blinding.
I gripped his hair and yanked his head back so hard his spine protested. My lips brushed the stubble along his jaw.
“Thank you,” I whispered, “andplease… keep it up.” I gave him a soft peck on his neck, smiling when I felt a tremble run down his body.I slapped him again, working the back of my hand in a diagonal so the cuts crisscrossed.
“Fight me. Disobey me. Be obstinate. Difficult. Make me work for it.”
I cupped his face in my hands, my nails digging into the already split skin and peeling it back slowly, millimeter by agonizing millimeter. I leaned in, my breath brushing his blood-slick cheek like a lover’s whisper.
“I want to hear you scream.”
I gave a hard tug, lifting away a strip of skin. He hissed through his teeth, fresh blood spilling from his lips. He was biting down on something inside his mouth so hard that it had definitely torn. That filled me with a different kind of pleasure, one that called for more blood.
“I want this to last,” I whispered into his ear. “So, do us both a favor and don’t beg too soon. Don’t break too fast.”
His head dropped forward, and I let it hang like dead weight. Then I stepped back and slammed my knee into his chest.
He clenched his jaw, grinding his teeth so hard I thought they might crack. No sound. So, I did it again. Then again.
His body sagged against the chains, and I could already see the first signs of his supernatural skin knitting itself back together. Panic pricked my skin. Not now. Not yet.
Dropping to my knees in front of him, I slapped his cheek lightly. “No, no, no, my precious. We can’t have you healing just yet. I need you to feeleverything.”
I lifted his chin with one hand and gently blew into his face. His eyes fluttered open, and I smiled, all fake sweetness and syrup. “Hi there. I’ve got a present for you.”
His eyes still held a flicker of defiance. Typical. I ran my fingers down, trailing along the curve of my throat to the edge of my breast, his eyes following the path I made. Even under torture, male instincts still reigned supreme.
Behind me, I felt Maso’s tense, hot gaze on my back. Looking over my shoulder, I met his eyes, a quiet warning directed his way, and he backed off.
I reached down into my cleavage, making a little show of it before I pulled out a small vial. “Ta-da!”
The wolf’s eyes widened. He yanked against the chains, trying to retreat, and I laughed. He knew exactly what it was.
“Oh, so youdoknow,” I said, grabbing his chin and shaking it side to side like I was scolding a pet. “Suppressant serum. Keeps you from healing. Keeps you from shifting. Keeps you right here, in the moment, with me.”
He jerked again, his panic in full throttle, but Maso, moving quicker than I could ask, held him steady.
“It won’t hurt,” I said. “Scout’s honor.” I made a horned hand gesture, pointed downward. Flicking my head to him, then to my hands, I grinned. “Oops. Wrong crew.”
Uncorking the vial with my thumb, I poured the glittering liquid over his head. It slid down, soaking into his scalp, his skin, every wound. The healing stopped instantly, and blood began to ooze fresh again.
I stepped on his hand, pressing my heel into the bones until I heard a crack.
He cried out this time, and the sound was music to my ears. The pitch was loud and desperate, the kind first screams were made of, but I wanted a symphony, and that meant putting in the work.
“Now, we’re getting somewhere,” I murmured.
I eyed Maso, intrigued by the hilt of a knife sticking out of his boot. Pointing at it, I batted my eyes and smiled. “Can I use that?”
He let go of the chains and handed it over without hesitation. That did something to me. Loyalty always did.
