I’m beside her in less than a second. Tearing the knife from her hands, I flip it shut, shoving it in my pocket.
“Give it back!” she screams, frantically slamming her fists into my chest.
I throw her flailing body over my shoulder and walk to another set of cuffs chained to the ceiling. My hand waves, sending the dead body up in flames. It’s the best I can do. I’m not taking the time to clean up all this blood. Someone has a lesson to learn.
“There is no fucking way anyone hurts my mate…not even you.” I lock her wrists in the cuffs. A low sound tears from her throat as she jerks against them.
“If you need release, you come to me. If you crave pain, you come to me.”
Her gaze snaps to mine with a snarl. She can bare her teeth all she wants. I’m not going anywhere.
I lower my voice, forcing her to listen. “But know that I will break you. I will shatter you to fucking pieces. And when it’s over, you won’t run to a blade. You’ll finally remember who the fuck you are.”
Because she’s mine.
And I am hers.
And I will not lose her to the dark.
CHAPTER 6
Frankie
“Give me back my fucking knife!” I snarl.
I need to get it out! It hurts! I want it gone! The pain is the only thing that makes it go away.
I yank against his hold, but it’s useless. My wrists are locked into cuffs before I realized he moved me. The metal bites. My magic snarls and so do I.
I bare my fangs at him. My voice is raw. “Let me go.”
He stands barely out of reach, watching me thrash, studying me. And in this moment I fucking hate him.
“So,” he finally says, “you like pain.”
I stop struggling. My head drops, and I stare at the floor. I don’t answer. I don’t need to. I hate that he can see me so clearly.
“Look at me, Frankie!”
I shake my head.
His fingers dig into my cheeks, lifting my face to his. “Did you tell meno?” Flames are blazing in his eyes now, but he does not let me look away.
“I’m sorry,” I mutter.
His face is so close now, I can feel his lips move. “I don’t want your apology, Frankie. I want you to answer my question. Did you tell meno?”
“I…” My voice trembles. “Yes.”
I search his eyes, hoping my admission will make him soften, but it doesn’t.
He releases my face, but he doesn’t step back. “When I tell you to look at me, you look.” His voice is quiet, controlled. “You do not look away until I say you can. Do you understand?”
I nod, keeping my eyes on him through the burn, through the blur, through the ache gathering behind them. I don’t look away.
He waits until the tears spill over. “Blink.”
Finally! I let my lashes fall, sending more tears down my cheeks. The burn fades as my eyes squeeze tighter.
