Page 151 of The Cute Psycho

I don't even want to imagine how it looks, the feel of it alone almost making me want to die. I'm pretty sure he ripped skin and muscle from my neck when he bit into it.

I groan out loud, barely holding myself together as I search for something to drink. Finding an unopened bottle of water, I drink greedily, trying to regain some focus.

Damn, Vlad. You almost killed me.

Laughter bubbles inside my chest at the thought. My entire body is beaten and battered, but I can't help myself as I think of the hilarity of the situation.

He'd wanted so much to avoid hurting me, and he'd ended up destroying me entirely.

It's a while later that he finally comes to.

"Sisi?" I hear his rough voice calling out to me.

I'm barely able to move as I make my way toward him. He's disoriented as he takes in the bloodbath around him, his own body painted in red.

"Sisi?" he repeats, coming toward me.

"You're back," I whisper, relieved.

"What..." He studies me, his brows knitting together.

Coming closer to me, he wrenches the cloth from my body, his gaze horrified as he takes in my bruised flesh.

"It's okay." I'm quick to assure him.

"I did that?" His voice is low and grave, his hand reaching forward to touch me. Without even thinking, I flinch back, my body having a mind of its own—the pain still embedded in its memory. He looks as if I'd struck him when he sees me avoid his touch. "I did that," he states blankly.

"It's not that bad," I say meekly, even though the mere action of speaking takes so much out of me.

"It's not that bad..." he repeats, horrified.

Turning his back to me, he walks numbly back to the altar, resting his arms on the table.

"Vlad?" I walk toward him, placing a hand on his back. I feel his breathing, his chest rising and falling.

"Don't." He turns around, catching my hand. His eyes, while back to normal, are icy cold, a shiver going down my spine at their scrutiny.

"What? Why?" I ask, confused.

"You should go," he says quietly, and it's like I don't recognize him anymore.

"What do you mean I should go?"

His hand unravels the cloth around my neck, a muscle twitching in his jaw as he sees the evidence of his savagery.

"It's fine, it doesn't hurt that much," I lie, my hand going to my neck to cover the wound.

"It doesn't hurt?" He raises an eyebrow, and my eyes search for a crinkling around his eyes, or any type of amusement that would denotemyVlad is back. Instead, I find none.

And that scares me more than any physical pain.

He brushes past me as he goes to retrieve his own clothes, slowly putting them back on. Looking around, he finds a phone, calling Maxim and ordering him to come here.

"Vlad?" I ask, unsure about anything.

Why is he so cold?

I don't mind the pain as long as I can have his arms around me, his voice telling me everything's going to be okay. I just wantmyVlad back.

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