This was a rare side of Eros that appealed to me more than I cared to admit.
The sadist was at work, doing what he did best: protecting his coven through means of brutality and bloodshed.
He had a man stretched out, completely naked, on his makeshift torture table. Heavy chains were strapped around his chest, stomach, and legs to keep him bound.
I had to hold back the urge to vomit. With a quick look at the knife clutched in his bloody fist, I realized he was skinning his victim alive. It wasn’t the grotesque sight that made me all queasy. It was the fact that I knew the man strapped to Deathwish’s coffin.
Eros was dreaming of torturing Vincent.
The sadist jerked his chin, his glare locking with Vincent’s through the steam coming off the fae's burning flesh. Iron chains.
The imprisoned male screamed and moaned a lot more than I felt was accurate. Vin was stubborn, and if this was at all real, he wouldn't give Eros the satisfaction of his screams.
“This is what happens when you decide to steal from your fucking brothers,” Eros snarled through a fang-filled grin. He brought the bloody blade to his mouth and licked the fae’s blood with a stroke of his tongue, smearing his lips with black.
“You don’t deserve to touch her, let alone impregnate her with your monster spawn. Let’s see how you change your tune about that when I claim your fucking balls as punishment for taking her away from us when we needed her most.”
My heart roared in my ear. Eros was dreaming of torturing Vin as punishment for kidnapping me.
The torture master put the knife back into Vin’s flesh, this time nestling the blade between his legs.
With the way Vincent whimpered, my nerves settled down, and my chest eased some. I wanted to get satisfaction from the sight of Eros’ knife pushed against the seam of Vin’s ballsack—I did a little knowing none of this was actually happening—but it was a harsh reminder that I still loved my brutal prince.
For all my talk of taking my retribution in flesh, I wanted all his parts intact. If I changed my mind at any future point, they’d be mine to remove.
“Eros!”
I half expected the vampire to ignore me, just like the memory of him from the Helsing Guild breakroom. If this dream was something that he’d imagined even just a few hours ago, he wouldn’t be present in it. He’d be off somewhere else in his mind, and I’d have to go sifting through more of his thoughts to find him.
My heart pounded against my ribs when Eros glanced up, staring straight at me. He gave me a dubious frown. After a barbed moment of silence, he dropped the knife to the floor with a clang and brought his palm to his mouth, kissing my mating mark.
When a small gasp rushed past my lips, and my hand shot up to cradle my shoulder, tears pricked his eyes. “Ruby. Christ, please tell me you're not a dream.”
The hope and vulnerability in his voice made my breath catch and my own eyes flood with tears.
“It's really me.”
Chapter five
Vampyres and Vengeance
Iknewmysituationwas twisted when Eros’ den—filled with his collection of cruel torture instruments—came to me like an oasis.
My eyes traced over his physique, taking in the swaths of ink covering his chest and the pleasing glint of his muscles doused in the firelight. Eros was so sexy, smeared in blood and sweat, wearing nothing else but those camo pants and combat boots. Then there was his intense musk of cloves and tobacco.
Now that some of the smoke coming off of Vin’s iron burns had dissipated, I made out the shriveled butt of a cigarette hanging slack between Eros’ pierced lips.
The torture master reached to pluck the cigarette from his mouth and snuffed it out on his prisoner’s upper thigh. Vincent growled between clenched teeth but fell quiet again when his brother straightened to his full height, his captor’s shadow cast from the furnace, stretching ominously over the fae’s frame.
“Christ, Ruby,” Eros rasped. In a few strides, he closed the gap between us but didn’t reach for me. It was like he was too afraid that the illusion would burst into smoke.
I breathed him in, the tension in my chest loosening.
He was so real.
Everything invaded my lungs, from his masculine aroma to the beads of sweat streaking a path over his rippled abs and slipping into the waistband of his pants.
It was all so real.
