Outside of that questioning mind.
I reminded her who she belongs to…even if it sends her into the abyss. And she has no choice but to return.
And she does. When Jude stabs the needle of adrenaline into her thigh, she comes to with a profound gasp, followed by a series of rasping coughs while doubling over. Some of my seed falls out of her mouth, trickling down her chin.
The others burn their gazes into me, stabbing with invisible defiance. Even Rory. It’s to be expected. Growing pains. I’ve resurrected something here that transcends our bonds, strengthening us with a gravity force mere mortals would spend thousands of years searching for.
Exhaustion consumes her. Her breath heaves and cleaves. But those pressed lips, her glare like daggers, confirm she’sready for the final round. I am prepared for it. I haven’t predicted what she’s going to ask.
I know.
“Truth or fucking dare, Raphael,” she spits out, coughing again as Jude pulls her into his arms, trapping their hands between their chests, speaking soothing words.
But her whole body tightens, and she shakes her head, climbs off his lap, and turns.
She crawls.
She crawls to me, dragging her thoroughly-fucked body across the floor like some wild, beautiful creature rising from the bowels of hell. Clawing and scraping and fighting, her teeth bared and ready to bite.
It’s fucking addictive.
Haunting. Terrifying. Terror-inducing.
Because I should not care to this degree. All this time, I’ve masked it.
But tonight, she and the others will know.
Tonight, they will come face-to-face with the black beast inside of me.
Tonight, they will know why she has rattled our chains so powerfully—and forged them stronger than ever with her feminine fire.
I don’t help her.
Arms stoic at my sides, hands calmly stationed on the floor.
I let her come to me. Let her grip my shoulders, pull herself up, and wrap her one good leg around me before raising the other with both hands. Hissing from the pain as she coils her scarred leg around my other side.
My scar. My mark. My limp.
Finally, she stares me down, her lips a fraction above mine. Her scent, raw, feral, and feminine, intoxicates like the strongestperfume. I take in her scent. She knows by how she leans in, pressing her soft, slick breasts against my chest.
I don’t flinch. I meet her on this battlefield where we will be equals for once. Because I will strip my soul bare for her…and for my brothers.
Her hands rise.
Her claws rip the silk binding of my hair until it falls around my face and down my neck.
And like a vengeful, punishing angel, she grips my jaw, thrusts it back, and touches her teeth to my throat.
The others tense, but I brandish my fist in a warning for them not to interfere. They should know this by now.
“Truth or fucking dare, Raphael,” she whispers, scraping those sharp, pearly teeth along my skin.
Silence. It thickens like toxic vapors around us.
Because I know what she wants. Only I have the power to give it to her.
I could speak the latter, take whatever my little hellion wants for a dare.
