Page 35 of Savage Saint
I just need some damned space. A moment where I’m in control of my movements, where my body responds exactly how I tell it to.
But even in this beautiful forest, I can’t outrun demons. The faces filled with shock linger at the back of my mind. The way Alessa looked at me… Does she still think I should stay with them? Or does she want me gone?
Even if I could get away, it’s not like I have anywhere to go.
Anger propels my movements, my feet slapping against damp earth as I push myself harder. The wind cuts across my skin, sharp and cold. My breaths pick up as I try to focus on the movement, my fingers squeezing into tight fists, the faint memory of Antonios’s throat beneath them still present.
I should feel guilty, ashamed maybe, because he was there to help. But I don’t. And the absence of emotions is what scares me.
Who the hell am I?
Behind me, Angelo closes in. His footsteps are slow, like he’s got all the time in the world. Not rushed. Not frantic.
He’s watching. Waiting.
I’m not going to explain myself to him. He doesn’t need to know the jumble in my head. Let him think I'm running away. If that’s what he wants to believe, fine.
I keep running, choosing my path carefully, every step calculated, every turn planned. But it’s like Angelo can read my mind, anticipating my every move. The forest around me thickens, and so does his presence. I don’t need to see him to know he’s there.
Why aren’t you running after me? And better yet, why do I want you to?
Angelo isn’t chasing me. He’s stalking. Sticking to the shadows like he’s the hunter and I’m his prey. Like he’s the cat and I’m the mouse.
A thrill rushes through me, lighting my senses up like a live wire.
You love being underestimated,a voice in my head says. And I can feel it in my core. The statement rings true. I could continue trying to evade Angelo, or I could stop whatever it is he thinks we’re doing and get on with my day.
I slow my steps, letting my feet come to a natural stop. My heart hammers against my ribs, but not from exhaustion—from exhilaration. The forest wraps around me, branches reaching toward a grey sky.
The air grows thick. Heavy. Like the moment before lightning strikes.
A twig snaps somewhere to my left. Then another to my right. He's playing with me, showing me exactly where he is. Or maybe where he wants me to think he is.
The breeze picks up, carrying the scent of pine and something darker. Richer. Something alluring.Him.
My muscles tense, ready. But I don't move. Don't give him the satisfaction of seeing me flinch. Instead, I track the shadows between the trees, counting the seconds between each rustle of movement.
A branch creaks overhead. My lips curl up.Amateur move, Angelo.
He emerges from the treeline like smoke. Fluid, dangerous. His steps are measured, precise. Each one bringing him closer with predatory grace.
I keep my stance loose, shoulders relaxed. Let him think he's cornered me. Let him believe I've given up.
His eyes lock onto mine, burning with something that isn't quite victory. Something hungrier.
The space between us crackles with electricity, but I refuse to break first. This isn't his game anymore. It's mine.
He thinks he's the hunter. That I'm trapped here in his forest, at his mercy.
But I've played this game before. I can feel it in my bones, in the way my body naturally shifts into position. In the familiar thrill coursing through my veins.
So I wait. Let him stalk closer. Let him think he's won.
Angelo stops a foot away from me, close enough that his presence engulfs my senses. His cologne, rich and dark, mingles with the forest air, making my head swim. But I keep my breathing steady, measured.
He towers over me, all controlled power and lethal grace. His eyes rake over my body, lingering on my throat, my lips, my hands. That smirk plays at the corner of his mouth. The one that says he's already imagining how this ends.
If only you knew.
