Motherfucker.
"Isla," he coos, condescending as ever. "You can't hurt me, honey."
If that nickname sounded like nails on a chalkboard coming from Landon, it's like a screeching siren song from Eamon. I should ignore it; I know it for the taunt it is. But I'm unable to stop myself from attacking him anyway.
A brutal hit, aiming right for his shoulder. He swats it away like an annoying fly, a smile lifting one corner of his lips as his eyes light up with the challenge.
"Kill shots, Isla. If you hit another hunters shoulder, the only thing you'll do is piss them off."
I think of when I managed to hit Alastor with the bullet in his shoulder, and it barely slowed him down. I think he backed off because he chose to, not because he needed to. If the following interactions were any indication, everything was set up by him anyway.
Bouncing on my toes a couple times, I try again, aiming directly for Eamon's chest, where his heart is. Would be? Is there one in there?
I get a little closer this time before he blocks it with his forearm. My fingers get smashed between the axe and his armwhere they collide, and the pain brings me into searing, furious focus.
Before he can taunt me again, I use my foot against his stomach, pushing with all my might. He takes a single step back, adjusting quickly, but I use that split second to swing again. He still blocks me, but not without effort.
Back and forth we go, swinging and blocking and kicking until I'm dripping with sweat, panting, and having almost forgotten about my issues outside of this room, all my anger slowly redirecting itself at Eamon and his stupid fucking face.
My teeth have been gritted for so long that my jaw aches, my shoulder burns from the constant exertion, and my eyes threaten to water from the frustration mixed with the overwhelming release of finally being able to give this violent energy somewhere to go.
With a final kick to his knee, making it buckle beneath him, I bring the axe down in a backhand, aiming for the soft spot where his shoulder meets his neck.
So fucking close.
But even still, he blocks the blow, grabbing the axe and knocking me flat on my ass.
"Ow."
He chuckles, hanging his head as he tosses the axe far out of my reach. "You did great."
"I missed," I throw my arms in the air.
He tilts his head slightly, showing me the tiniest sliver of black liquid seeping out of a cut in his golden skin. "Nah, you got me. If I were anyone else, I'd be dead."
The victory feels hollow. That microscopic break in the skin isn't nearly as satisfying as it should be. Leaning back on my hands, I let my head roll back, looking at the ceiling, frustrated that I can't do the one thing I'm apparently meant to do.
"And," his voice travels from where he's still on his knees a few feet from me, "Ifyouwere anyone else,you'dbe dead."
"Excuse me?" my head snaps back, eyes locked on his.
Any rage I might have felt at the threat dries up in the heat of his gaze as it travels over me. His eyes are smoldering, so hot that I feel them on every inch of my sweat-slicked, exhausted body.
Leaning forward, he lands with his hands only inches from me. I never thought I'd be the type to crave someone crawling for me, but Jesus Christ, it's all I can think of now. This enormous, powerful, terrifying creature, supplicating himself for me.
I swallow the lump growing in my throat, begging my body not to react to what could be nothing, but as he eases closer, I know that it's not.
Slowly—so slowly, to give me time to deny him, he crawls over me until his hands bracket my waist on the floor. One of his knees spreads my legs, his gaze locked on my face as I pant, frozen in the wake of his predatory onslaught.
If I thought his crawling was submission, I was dead wrong.
I am the prey caught in a deadly hunter's sights, his prowling, slow seduction only drawing me in close enough that I have no chance of escape.
The predator becomes more evident, red bleeding into his eyes as he leans in to whisper against my lips, "No onehas ever drawn that much blood and walked away. Do you know that, my little hunter?"
I can't speak, his soothing voice so at odds with the violent promise in his words. All I manage is to shake my head.
Running his nose down mine, he sighs my name, the sound so ragged it sends a shiver down my spine. I can't help the small whimper that escapes me, hearing the desire in his voice, all that animal prowess directed at me, making heat grow lowin my belly, the wetness gathering between my thighs almost unbearable.
