Page 23 of Princess of Vengeance

“Okay, I might not be able to give you a hundred percent guarantee.” Her fingers squeeze my biceps. “But think about it. What would be the point? Imogen might be a lot of things, but I’ve never gotten the vibe from her that she might be the type to hurt an animal just because she can. Everything she does is calculated and purposeful.” She shakes her head. “Even when she stabbed me, she didn’t go deep enough to hit anything vital. She’s smart, methodical. Killing Princess would just be senseless, horrible cruelty, and that’s not her style.”

“She was ready to watch you die. She might not have stabbed you deep enough to kill you herself, but she did fucking stab you.”

“Yeah, because Malcolm ordered it. Because the rules of the Syndicate demanded it.” Quinn’s voice stays calm, reasonable. “But she’s not going to go out of her way to murder a cat. That doesn’t gain her anything, and it’s just… it’s not who she is.”

I want to argue, and my jaw works as I struggle to put the feeling into words. “She was counting on us. Something that small and innocent… when it relies on you, you don’t just fucking abandon it. You don’t turn your back and leave it to fend for itself.”

Quinn’s brows furrow, and then a flash of understanding passes through her eyes.

“Like your mother was supposed to take care of you?” she murmurs.

Her voice is soft, but the words hit like bullets. I jerk away from her, feeling so tight and tense that I seriously might shatterinto a million pieces if I don’t let some of this pent-up anger out of my system.

“She was my fucking mother. She was supposed to protect me. Instead, she—” The memory of dark water closing over my head as my mother tried to drown me makes my chest constrict. “And now I’m no better. That cat sees me as just another person who promised protection and then disappeared.”

“Stop.” Quinn’s voice is hard without being harsh. “You are nothing like your mother. Nothing.” She moves closer again and doesn’t let me pull away this time. “Your mother tried to kill you because she was sick and twisted. You were forced to leave Princess behind because we never made it back to that penthouse to get her. We were all about to be murdered, Killian. There’s a difference. A big fucking difference.”

I swallow hard, but the knot in my throat won’t budge. The rage is still there, but it’s twisting into something else. Something that feels too much like guilt.

“You’ve been an amazing protector for that cat,” she continues without taking her eyes off mine. “You fed her and played with her. You made sure she was safe. The only reason we left her is because we had no choice. We had every intention of going back to that penthouse after we killed Ambrose.”

She reaches up, her fingers brushing my jaw. “Your mother chose to hurt you. You didn’t choose to leave Princess. You were forced to. And I know that if there had been a way to safely bring her here with us, you would have.”

I swallow hard. Every muscle in my body is still coiled tight with barely contained violence. She studies me for a long moment, then steps closer. She takes my hand, the one that’s not bleeding, and wraps it around her throat.

My fingers tighten on instinct, and I can feel her pulse throb against my palm. A rush of arousal hits me so hard that I’mmomentarily thrown off as my brain struggles to make sense of what’s going on. “What are you doing?”

“When I start to spiral, you always know exactly what I need.” Her voice is steady even though I’ve still got a firm grip on her throat. “You pin me down and fuck me until I can’t think anymore. Until all the darkness goes quiet.” Her hand covers mine where it rests against her neck. “Let me do the same for you. Use me. Take out all that anger on me instead of the wall.”

My fingers flex against her skin, and my cock starts to harden as her pulse speeds up beneath my touch. The temptation to shove her against the wall and fuck her until neither of us can remember our own names is almost overwhelming.

The fact that she wants it as badly as I do is just the cherry on top.

But then I catch sight of the bandages beneath her shirt—the ones covering wounds that have only just started to heal—and I force myself to let go and take a step back.

“No.” I shake my head. “You’re still healing. I just gave Atlas shit the other day for fucking you when you were hurt. I’m not going to do the same damn thing.”

“Killian—”

“I said no.” My hands clench at my sides. I hate denying her anything, ever. But this is different. This is for her own good, not mine. “I won’t risk making your injuries worse.”

“They’re healed up enough.” She touches her side gently. “I can feel it. I’m strong enough to take whatever you need to give me.”

“No,” I rasp, my jaw tight. “I won’t argue with you about this, siren.”

She shrugs and turns away. For a second, pure panic flashes through me at the thought of her walking out and leaving me to my own devices with all this darkness churning inside me.

But she doesn’t leave. Instead, she walks to the bed, pulling her shirt over her head as she goes. The sight of so much of her bare skin all at once makes my mouth go dry.

“What…” I have to stop and clear my throat, because fuck, she’s too damn tempting for her own good. “What are you doing?”

“Your hand on my throat got me wet.” She climbs onto the bed, slowly and carefully, and I’ll be damned if each movement isn’t exaggerated just enough to make my cock throb hungrily. “If you won’t fuck me, I’ll have to handle it myself.” Her fingers trail down her stomach, and I nearly lose my mind. “Since you won’t touch me, you can just watch.”

9

QUINN

Killian’sentire body goes completely still except for the muscle in his cheek that flexes every few seconds as he watches me. The darkness in his eyes has shifted from pent-up anger and frustration to raw hunger.

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