Arching down to feather his lips so lightly over mine, his gaze kept mine captive without so much as a blink to disrupt the tense moment forging us together.
His molten breath teased my mouth, a promise of the heat he offered. “I’m going to ruin you, Ruby.”
Chapter eight
Deathwish’s Game
Overthecourseofthe last couple of months, I’d picked up a thing or two about survival. You know, like you do as the half-blood heir to the vampire throne, with “not dying” pretty high on the priority list.
So, I was learning to do what any kick-ass queen in my position would: leverage the men around me according to their strengths.
Corry’s best asset—excluding the one beneath his belt line—was his fierce loyalty. The youngblood would always have my back. Even if we were up to something stupid, he’d be right there with me, a partner in crime.
Sterling’s many strengths were all rooted in his intelligence. He was the only one of us who always seemed to know what to do, and when shit hit the fan, he’d be as cool as a cucumber, even if the rest of us were losing our shit.
Vincent was a thick-skulled brute with basically no boundaries, especially when he lost control of his primal side. But it didn’t matter if the hybrid’s vampiric nature or his fae hunger were running the show—He’d protect me no matter the cost, even if it meant Godzilla stomping all over the trust he’d built with his brothers. He’d do anything to keep my mortal heart beating.
Then there was Eros. The ex-monster hunter knew how to tweak and manipulate my every nerve and wasn’t afraid to remind me in the bloodiest, most depraved of ways that I wasn’t as breakable as I sometimes felt.
I arched my back off Eros’ mattress, canting my hips into his while digging my nails into the flesh of his shoulders, practically begging him to make good on his promise to ruin me. He wouldn’t. But it would be one hell of a ride watching him try.
The coven’s master of torture knew exactly how resilient his princess was. Yet, he didn’t ditch his sick penchant for putting my limits to the test. Which was fine by me. I needed the distraction, especially now.
I needed to forget that right here, right now, under the weight of Eros’ muscles, the slide of his lips, the heat of his breath, was just an illusion afforded by the spell connecting my mind to his.
I needed to forget, even if it was just for a few moments, that I was laying at the bottom of a cage.
The fact that everything felt so damn visceral helped sell the fantasy.
I could taste the salt on my mate’s flesh as his lips crushed mine in a bruising kiss, his snake biteschinkingagainst my teeth as his tongue pushed inside my mouth.
My monster purred as Eros’ mating mark on my shoulder burned hot. I’d never forget how she tried to shut down when Vincent left for Faerie, pulling the mating bond so tight that the primal part of me was convinced he was gone forever. Corry’s and Sterling’s marks were colder than Eros’. I’d have to visit their dreams next, not only to work out the plan that would get me back home but also to keep my monster from going into hibernation. I needed her now more than ever.
So I threw myself into our mate, burrowing as close to him as I could while being worlds apart.
“Show me your darkest fantasies,” I said again, this time breathless and frantic as I pulled on his shoulders, reveling in the way his muscled mass pressed me into his mattress. “Don’t hold anything back from me.”
He rumbled a chuckle. Then, on the next breath, everything shifted. His weight lifted from me, and darkness folded in.
I opened my eyes to find myself standing outside. It was nighttime and pouring down rain. I shivered, my torn black dress providing zero protection from the cold.
There was something eerily familiar about the place Eros' mind had whisked me to.
Then I saw it. The headless body of a man lay on the asphalt, a pool of dark blood spilling around him. His head lay a few feet away.
My gut twisted when I recognized it as the Boston vampire I’d killed at the gas station the night I’d tried to make a getaway on Corry’s motorcycle.
This was my memory of the gas station. But it didn’t feel like my memory. Because it wasn’t. This was Eros’ imagination, and he hadn’t been there that night.
My heart leaped to my mouth when I realized I was bent over a motorcycle. Corry’s Ninja. The youngblood was standing behind me, pressed in so close that I could feel every inch of his hunger through his jeans.
I twisted to look at him. His eyes were as red as the blood pouring down his chin and staining the collar of his shirt.
That horrible, wonderful, crazy-as-fuck night came slamming back.
It was the night I tried to run away from the new life that I’d been thrown into by tricking Corry. He’d disobeyed the Elders’ orders and helped me sneak out. After a date at the roller rink and burgers at the Clown Car Drive-In, I’d stolen his motorcycle. I’d stopped for gas, where I’d learned the hard way why the Elders wanted to keep me inside. The Boston Coven was on the prowl for me, and two of their goons had tracked me down. That was the first night my monster gave me a taste of her existence...by ripping off the head of one of my attackers.
Corry had caught up with me and cast the other off, who’d be captured and tortured by Eros later. We’d made a deal. He could do anything to me, so long as he gave me his bike when he was finished.
