Page 234 of Coal Hearts

Unlike before, whenever I’d see a stunning woman and fought disgraceful urges to hurt her, I no longer hated myself. I no longer punished myself. No gush of sickness. No urge to purge myself from sin.

This was how things were always meant to be.

Victor was right.

Life existed in balance.

Predators and prey.

Monsters and meek.

I couldn’t change who I was; I’d only killed myself by trying.

The world needed men like me because goodness couldn’t exist without evil. Light couldn’t shine without darkness. And Ily would never have existed if she hadn’t been born for me to ruin.

No, not just ruin.

Shred apart.

Feast upon.

Consume.

Placing the pipette and knife on the table holding all manner of torture devices, I grabbed the back of my t-shirt and wrenched it over my head.

Ily shivered as I stood before her bare-chested. Her eyes skittered over me. Her lips thinned as she shook her head and saw things I couldn’t see.

“Just a man. He isn’t made of smoke or shadow. He’s not scaled like a dragon or—”

Grabbing her chin, I forced her eyes to lock on mine. “What do you see when you look at me?”

Fresh tears glimmered in her stare. The glossy wetness punched me in the stomach, and my cock almost crawled out of my trousers.

Biting her bottom lip, she tried to pull her jaw out of my control, but I merely tightened my grip. My fingers hurt her. I knew they did. Her body tightened with pain. Her eyes flared with discomfort. But she didn’t speak. Didn’t obey. She merely slipped into the language I couldn’t understand, making sinister things slither through me.

“Fine. Keep your secrets.” Letting her go, I grabbed the pipette and held out my palm.

My body was oversensitive.

My pulse haywire.

My instincts off the fucking charts.

Numbers were nothing to me now.

Words nothing more than barbaric human communication.

I was above such things.

Yet I had to count...

“Seventeen.” Victor’s cool, collected voice interrupted my black-dripping thoughts. “You’re at seventeen.” He smirked as I shot him a look. “Don’t worry, I struggle to keep count too when I’m in the midst of this game. It’s addictive, isn’t it? Illuminating and invigorating.” Leaning forward, he licked his lips as he studied Ily and her four shallow wounds. “By the time you’re done, she’ll be marked and bloodied, and you...”

“Will be the man who signed and drank her.”

He canted his head with dark respect. “Precisely.” Waving his hand, he grinned. “Continue. I’m rather enjoying the show. In fact.” Snapping his fingers, his gaze shot to Peter still kneeling on the rug. “I’m in need of a skilled mouth, my sweetling.”

Peter couldn’t hide his gulp of disgust.