Flames burst beneath my feet, curling across the wooden floor like living things. Smoke hissed into the air as the tavern filled with the scent of scorched wood and fire-soaked wrath—a charred circle formed around me, a warning carved into the earth.
One of the whores screamed and fled. Others clutched their marks, terrified. Several men drew pistols and pointed them my way, their hands unsteady, their courage already crumbling.
But I didn’t look at them.
My eyes were only forher.
I strode through the room like judgment incarnate. Silent. Seething. And when I reached their table, I didn’t say a word.
I grabbed Alina by the neck and yanked her off the stranger’s lap.
The man jumped up, panic flooding his face, his bravado stripped away like rotted paint.
He backed up. He knew. Hesaw.
Alina didn’t resist.
She clung to me, her body trembling—notwith fear, but desire. Her chest rose and fell against mine, and when she looked up into my eyes, I felt something sharp twist in my chest.
Her grin. Thatgrin—mischievous, knowing, damn near wicked—hit me like a blow.
And gods help me; I felt my cock strain against the confines of my clothes, aching for her.
Alina.
My curse. My torment. My addiction.
The heat between us crackled like the fire at our feet. I wanted to kill her and kiss her in the same breath.
“You finally found me,” she whispered, her voice soft as sin. “What took you so long?”
Chapter 14
Alina
My heart thundered as heavy footsteps echoed outside the brothel door. Thirty nights I’d waited—each one lonelier, hungrier than the last. Balthazar had finally come.
I slid onto the lap of the man I’d been toying with for the past hour—Eoin, or something like that. His hands were warm on my hips, but it wasn’t his touch I craved.
The tavern door slammed open.
Balthazar filled the doorway like a storm given flesh. His coat billowed behind him, and his eyes twin embers of fury and heat. Every muscle in his body was strung tight, like a predator ready to kill. The air thickened as he stepped inside, and I could barely breathe.
My skin flushed. My thighs clenched. Eoin’s hand skimmed along my waist, and I leaned in to kiss him—not because I wanted him, but because I needed Balthazar to see it. To burn.
Our mouths met, but all I could see was Balthazar. All I wanted was Balthazar.
And then he moved.
He stormed toward me like an unchained beast, his jaw clenched, and his nostrils flared. Before I could blink, his hand wrapped around my throat—not too tight, just enough to claim. His touch sent a pulse of heat straight between my legs.
“You think you can fuck with me like this?” he growled, voicelow and lethal. His cock strained against his trousers, thick and ready.
I smiled through the choke of desire. I had him. Finally.
“I’ve let no man inside me but you,” I whispered, dragging my lips across his knuckles. “No one has touched what’s yours.”
His grip tightened, his other hand fisting in my hair. “You dare to tease me with this pitiful little wretch?”
