Page 10 of The Wraith & Her Killer

A twig snaps somewhere behind me and it takes all of my energy to keep from screaming. I’m absolutely terrified right now, but for all the wrong reasons.

I had my suspicions about my killer’s familiarity with his dark hair and silver eyes, but the way he spoke to me in perfect Russian, repeating the words he’d said to me that night before my mother took me, I knew. It was him.

It felt as if my heart might burst from my chest right before it sank low in my gut, because he was no longer that boy from my childhood. He’s a trained killer. Aserial killer,based on what little I heard of him—theCupid Killer—in passing while working for Santino. This is a whole different person. A man who wants me dead.

Does he, though?

The errant thought doesn’t have time to rationalize itself before adark chuckle seems to echo around me, bouncing off the trees, and the smoky sound sends a chill running up my spine. It stops me in my tracks and I whip around, checking for any signs that he’s found me. I can’t breathe through my busted nose, my ribs scream in protest with every breath, and the muscles in my legs burn with every step.

Lightning flashes and I swear I catch a flash of his silver eyes just ahead, but in the next flash and clap of thunder, he’s gone.

I turn, about to take a step back to run when heat envelops my back and I hear his voice right at the shell of my ear.

“Do you feel alive yet, Wraith,or is it still death that you crave?”

I yelp at his startling proximity.Where did he come from?Scratch that thought—I don’t care. I don’t even turn around to look at him before I take off at a sprint. My feet carry me all of twenty feet before the world spins before me and I’m suddenly on my back. The tree canopy far above me does little to stop the trickle of rain that quickly turns into a steady downpour.

I fight against my killer’s hold, but the struggle is futile when he pins my hands above my head with one hand and produces one of his arrows from seemingly nowhere with the other.

“Valiant effort, Odessa, but it looks like I caught you this time.”This time?

Using my heels, I bend my knees and dig them into the ground to shove, hoping to expel myself from beneath his grip. It’s a useless effort, because he only adjusts his grip and moves with me. Unfortunately the torn t-shirt I fell asleep in shifts and pulls further down my shoulder, exposing my left breast. I’d ditched his bloody jacket the moment I broke the tree line because the metallic smell was making me nauseous. It could’ve been my own bloody nose I was smelling, but still, the damn thing was too baggy and I didn’t want to risk it getting caught on a wayward branch while trying to escape his clutches.

My killer’s eyes immediately home in on my newly exposed flesh, and if I thought his eyes had darkened before, they’re obsidiannow. My nipples tighten. Be it his focused gaze or the rain pebbling against my heated, battered skin, the way it makes me feel is wrong.

Because itiswrong, right?Sowrongof methat Ilikethe way he’s affected by me. It gives me a false sense of power and a foreign feeling in my core that can’t be named. He doesn’t touch me apart from his hold, but he cocks his head in a predatory way and uses the tip of the arrow to trace the shape of my exposed breast. There’s a dangerous glint in his eyes as he watches me closely while pressing the blade to my skin and pulling down until it breaks.

Blood bubbles up and around the wound until it cascades down my breast and pools at my sternum. A whimper escapes my lips before I can stop it, and my core clenches against my will at the fiery pain that radiates from my chest before it morphs and travels down to settle at the apex of my thighs. The sounds I make aren’t those of pain, though, which he absolutely notices, if the way his chest heaves at the sight is any indication.

Imoan.

Shame washes over me with the way my body is reacting and I close my eyes, turning away from the situation, wishing I could just vanish into the ether, but my killer doesn’t let me. He releases my hands and grips my jaw as he makes two more cuts in close proximity to the first. He wants me to watch him mark me. Pushing down on my jaw, he angles my head enough for me to see that he’s carved a perfect A into my skin, directly in the center of the scars over my heart.

“Perhaps this time, you won’t forget who this belongs to,” he says, brushing his thumb over the tender flesh. I grit my teeth, biting back some cross between a groan and a moan. “While I do enjoy chasing you, I won’t let you run from me a third time, Wraith.You’ll have no choice but to stay and see exactly what your actions have turned me into.”

There’s that phrase again.

Then it hits me like a freight train. He thinks Ichoseto run from him the first time. Leaving him was the last thingI wanted to do, not when his soul whispered to mine night after night, giving me no choice but to surrender to its siren call.

My chest is throbbing with pain and I don’t know whether to be appalled that he’s marked me again, or relieved that he’s instead chosen to claim me for a second time in my life.

My time with him felt so brief—just years compared to the decade that has separated us—but it was so impactful that I felt as if I’d lost my soul when my mother ripped me from Father’s home. Not just a piece of it, either. The whole damned thing. Because something tells me that this man doesn’t do anything in halves.

When my eyes make their way to his face again, he’s got this sort of deranged satisfaction etched in his eyes as he admires his handiwork. His dark hair hangs heavy with rain, droplets falling almost in a steady stream and coating my skin, smearing and diluting the blood that seeps from my newest wound.

It takes a moment for my brain to register that my hands are free, and I use them.

“I didn’tmakeyou into anything,” I grit, clasping my hands together to make one large fist I swing them down, landing a blow to his shoulder to shove him off of me.

It does… abso-fucking-lutely nothing but cause my exposed breast to bounce. He doesn’t even acknowledge my attack, save for the way he grins behind his mask and cocks his head, like a predator observing the intimidation tactics of its prey before it strikes. He’s a creature with carnal desires and the way he tracks my exposed skin is proof enough. I use this moment of distraction to lift my knee and strike directly between his legs, but he stops me by wedging his own damp leg up between my thighs, and settles there like it’s no problem with his dark jeans pressed directly against my clit. “You became a fucking psycho murderer all on your o?—”

His grip on my neck tightens, cutting off both my air and my words. “See, that’s where you’re wrong,” he says casually, leaning down into my space again. My hands grip his wrist to pull him off of me, but he overpowers me easily. “You leaving without so much as aword with something that belongs tome? Letting us believe that you were as dead as your mother? Yeah, that can make a man lose his fucking mind.”

I try to shake my head because I didn’t choose to leave him, but I’m struggling to even see straight with the way he’s cutting off my oxygen and blood flow.

“You also ruined my orgasm earlier tonight,” he straightens, his grip on my neck loosening just enough to make me cough before inhaling a shaky breath as he climbs swiftly to straddle my chest. “Right now I either need to fuck something or kill something. So, take out my cock,Wraith.”

The blood drains from my face at the same time the rest of my body flushes and my pussy pulses at his command.

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