Page 55 of To Curse A Knight

“Should we go rescue the fucker?” His brows rose as Aaron tore another, longer piece of skin from Alec’s calf, exposing a layer of grisly muscle beneath. “I’m all for a little blood play every now and again, but this is next level.”

The backlit greens glinted with mischievous energy as he sought our Viking’s gaze from the corner of his eye, the rest of his attention remained fixed on the gruesome tableau.

“Glad you didn’t choosethatmethod of torture, Conan. Totally different type of edging, that.”

Tomy utter shock, Kellan let out a burst of deep, rumbling laughter; the abrupt resonance echoed off the concrete walls around us. The sound must have carried to the room beyond; Aaron’s head rose from his passion project. His caramel brown eyes were almost black as he stared back at us through the windowpane.

He slowly ambled toward the door—leaving Alec screaming in writhing agony—as if this were just another Tuesday. When he stepped out into the hall, I rushed to my dark knight and wrapped my arms around his neck, tugging his head down to mine for a brutal kiss.

He was covered in blood and all manner of human tissue, but I didn’t care. I’d bathe in every facet of filth with this man every time he brought justice to my enemies. The depravity in his method said he would burn the world down for me, without question, and punish anyone who tried to escape its raging fire.

Fuck if I didn’t love him fiercely for it.

Our tongues tangled with such desperation, it was like we were kissing for the first time—teeth clashing and lips everywhere, as if we would never feel each other’s bodies ever again after this moment.

“Thank you,” I whispered solemnly, staring into the dark eyes that filled some of my best dreams. “Thank you for your protection,mi caballero oscuro.”

“It is my honor to serve you,Mi Reina.” He bowed his forehead to touch mine, the gesture more intimate than any form of sex we’d ever had. I brought a hand to his cheek and swiped away a streak of blood before pushing around to face the others.

“Let’s go downstairs.” I grabbed Aaron’s bloody hand with my clean gloved one and waved the other two men to follow. “He isn’t going anywhere, and it’s about time I gave you an explanation for all of this.”

Alec’s head lolled haphazardly to his shoulders, apparently having passed out from Aaron’s administration of pain. He was alive, but barely.

I’d researched the countless ways to kill a man, but “flaying alive” wasn’t in my repertoire of tricks.

“Will he bleed out?” I asked casually as I moved back down the concrete stairwell into the private oasis below.

“Unlikely,” came Aaron’s smooth reply. “It is supposed to prolong suffering for as long as possible. He will not die until you wish it.”

What a twisted, sadistic,thoughtfulsoul.

I led Aaron, Kellan, and Lucky back into the apartment and pointed for them to sit on the couches. Aaron raised a dubious brow, looking down at his sweater red-stained and flecked with what, I didn’t need to know.

“We’re going to have to abandon this site now anyway, Aaron.” I shrugged. “I don’t plan on salvaging the furniture.”

“And we’re going to need to get out of here as soon as possible.” Kellan’s gravelly tone brooked no arguments. “She made a call before I caught her, and I have no idea who she called or what she told them. We’re leaving by daybreak, no matter what.”

“I’ll be quick, then.” The smile I offered didn’t reach my eyes, the anxiety in my gut roiling like bitter acid as I prepared to tell them the story I never thought I’d tell anyone again.

The three men sat on the couch cushions—the same seats they’d taken during our Christmas festivities—a much more pleasant day. Instead of sitting with one of them, I leaned back against the wall and faced them fully.

“When I was in college, I met a woman.” I twisted my hands in front of me, the nervous energy in my veins leaking into my limbs. “At first she was just a friend, but over time, she became my lover.”

Thejagged rock in my throat was nearly impossible to swallow, but I managed it, my audience patiently waiting for the punchline. I hadn’t allowed myself to think of Isabella in years, choosing to bury her memories under the load of my vendetta in her honor.

Unable to make eye contact, I cleared my throat and continued.

“Isabella was a spitfire. The most beautiful woman in the room. She came from a poor family and attended Barnard on a full scholarship, working her ass off to prove she belonged there.”

The bittersweet memories turned rancid the longer I held them on my tongue. My beautifulCariño. The girl who broke me.

“I was so young then, and stupid. A little rich white girl from a small town who’d never really tasted true freedom. Despite Daddy and Stanley’s arrangement to marry me off to Logan, I filled my days with studying, and my nights fucking and partying with her. We eventually moved in together in an apartment off campus.”

I realized in that moment that most of this information would be new to Lucky. My history wasn’t recorded in newspapers the way it was for some American heiresses; subconsciously, I’d let him into my life in its entirety—something I’d have to come to terms with, and confront him with—later. I raised my head to stare directly into the sea-green foam of his eyes; he stared back, conveying nothing but rapt attention, an unusually solemn spirit filling out his posture.

It gave me the reassurance to continue.

“We weren’t exclusive—we couldn’t be, with my fiancé at home, and two extremely homophobic fathers. So, we both agreed that while we loved fiercely in secret, we’d continue the guise that we were just best friends in public. And one day, she met a man that wasn’t just a beard—she fell for him.”

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