Then I suddenly felt it, the sound of chains rattling in my head…a man in deep sleep stirring awake, a prisoner attempting to break loose.
I chuckled softly.
Not a chance.
Not so soon.
I only just started having fun.
He would sit there and watch, surrounded by the chains that once held me bound.
He would scream as I bled her dry.
He would thrash, kick, scratch, roar…but he would not be able to stop me.
This was my playground now.
Right here was my perfect prey. And I would not stop until I’d had a fill.
She was the one that came to me.
She was the one that offered herself to me.
23
ZAGHAN
If only she wasn’t meant to die.
Beth Fraser was a dangerous woman, I could tell.
In just a few weeks, she managed to put confusion in my brother’s head. Made him think of eliminating me for good.
That was the thing about variables. They had a way of ruining everything. Problems like her wouldn’t fade on time. They needed to be carved out from the root. I needed to remove her immediately, carefully, and very intimately.
But first, I needed to know her. Just for a moment. Find out what made Callan so crazy about her. Because I was greedy like that.
I would taste her. Then I would end her, clean and final.
“I told you no running is allowed, didn’t I?” My fingers locked around her throat from behind, dragging her back from the door she had ran towards.
“Let go,” she forced out, wiggling helplessly, but so fucking trapped. “Please. I need to go. Just stop, please…stop.”
“Not a chance.”
Her face darkened, tinged with purple as she thrashed against my grip, the artery in her neck pounding beneath the press of my thumb. I could feel the frantic rhythm of her heart, the desperate fight for oxygen. But I wouldn’t let her die, of course. Not yet.
“Please,” she whimpered again. But there was nothing I could do other than hold her tighter when her sound was a desperate cry for mercy. I was sure she wanted me. Fuck her silly resistance, the defiance in her tone. It was all about the eyes. Her mouth said no, but her eyes held conviction, to surrender or to fight a bit more? Reach for my mercy?
But little did she know, that my definition of mercy was captivity. And if she wanted mercy, I was generous today.
My fingers, firm and knowing, mapped out the curve of her body, slipping over silk and skin with a confidence that made her breath hitch.
God, she was so easy and Callan was so pathetically blind. He saw her as something delicate, untouchable. A saint in a world of sinners. But I knew better. Girls like her were usually the darkest. Inside her, I was sure something unholy festered. If I searched deeper, I would find it.
“I just want to go,” she choked out, her body shuddering in my hold, pulse erratic beneath my fingers.
I didn’t answer, wasn’t wavered by the tears brimming in her pretty eyes. I didn’t have to. Instead, I bent in close, the heat of my breath caressing her skin before my teeth sank into the tender curve of her neck, hard and sharp, a vicious claiming bite that had her crying out, her body jerking against mine.
