I’ll be sure to tell him... Once I’m safely out of reach.
10
Kaiser
* * *
When I emerge from the woods, I look like I’ve gone three rounds with a blackberry bush… and lost. Because that’s exactly what happened. I’ve got leaves in my hair, mushroom spores in my nostrils, and scratches all over my arms from the briars. I can’t feel them, but I know the scratches are bright red.
Now I’m mad enough to charge through a patch of overgrown flowers. The Poisoner must be feeding them a crazy amount of compost because the stalks are as tall as me. I rip through them, no longer caring if I wreck a nice flower bed. These things have huge white flowers but look like weeds.
I’ve reached the final strip of lawn. It’s broken up by a few neat rows of trees with fruit growing on some of them. Tiny green apples. Bright red cherries. Yellowing pears.
I stroll through a ditch of rotting peaches and face a worn stone wall enclosing a graveyard.
There’s no sign of Bella, but I sense she’s close. It’s something in the air—the echo of her giggle, a whiff of her sugary scent.
I plant a hand on the wall and scale it easily.
Some people would be squeamish about trespassing on sacred ground. But I’m not. My soul was lost long ago.
I stalk between fallen gravestones and moss-covered statues, hunting my prey. She’s quiet for once. I move silently, waiting to catch more of her scent. I thought she just smelled like roses, but I was wrong. Her scent is sweet like flowers and those sugared donuts she inhales by the dozen. But when I get closer, there’s a tart edge, like lemon. It makes my mouth water.
I can’t wait to strip her down, scrub her off, and taste her. She doesn’t realize it, but that little chase through the garden of horrors only makes me want her more. Now I have an excuse to punish her. What’s more, I think she can take it. She’s stronger than she looks.
Most people are frightened by me. I get the sense that Bella’s thrilled by the fear. Like a kid going to a horror movie or a haunted house and enjoying the jump scare. It’s all a game to her, and she seems excited by it.
Works for me. I’ve never met a woman who can handle my intensity. The women at Camille’s avoid me. They prefer Jaeger. That’s why, when I hire one, I only use them for one night, and never again. One and done, no repeats. Camille finds me a woman who can handle the rough stuff and gives them strict orders never to speak to me again. Of course, after I use them, none of the women want to. Which is fine, I never wanted more.
But with Bella, I want more. So it’s a good thing that she doesn’t seem to be repelled by the predator in me, that she seems fascinated by it.
“Yoohoo,” she calls from somewhere over my head. I look first to the towering oak, but she hasn’t climbed up there. She’s up on the roof of a big crypt, perched on the edge beside a stone statue shaped like a little dragon. The forest did a number on her, too. There are smudges of dirt on her face, green stains on her pink plaid outfit, and her hair is a mess, falling out of its neat braids.
I get a pulse of heat in my gut, seeing her ruined a little. It’s not as destroyed as she will be tonight, when I have her subdued at my feet.
“You’re going to pay for this.”
She kicks her feet, unbothered by my threat. “You have to catch me first.”
I growl and start forward, only to realize I’m dragging a piece of greenery. It’s one of those giant stalks topped with a lacy white flower, stuck to my jeans. I rip it off and toss it away.
She tilts her head. “I hate to tell you this, but that’s giant hogweed. It’s phototoxic. I’d go wash that sap off if I were you. And avoid the sun tomorrow. For like two days.”
Shit. I swipe at my arm where the stalk smeared its goo on me. My palm is sticky with it, and my skin feels prickly. It feels worse than the mushroom dust, but the sensation might be in my head. Although my nerve endings seem to be coming back online these days, it’d be bad timing to have my pain receptors heal right when my future bride makes me run a gauntlet of poison plants.
Fucking poison plant jizz. I had no idea something green could be so toxic.
I circle the crypt slowly. I can climb it or just jump and grab her leg. It’s dangling low enough for me to reach. But I don’t want to hurt her.
Physically, it would be so easy to overpower her. But I don’t want to conquer her with brute force. I want to lure her in. She’s unlike any other opponent I’ve ever had, and I’m giddy with the thought of mastering her. I’m even willing to lose a few rounds, as long as when the final bell rings, she’s kneeling at my feet, gazing up at me like I’m her world.
I return to face her. She’s been sitting quietly this whole time, braiding some of the green vines she’s gathered into a crown.
She’s up to something.
“You’re not afraid of me,” I say. There’s a wild gleam in her eye. She’s not cowed, and I like that. She’s willing to stand up to me. I’ve faced grown men in the ring who were more afraid of me than she is.
This is a good sign. Maybe she’ll be strong enough to withstand my intensity. I want her to last a long time as my toy. She’s already held my interest longer than any previous fucks.
