Page 36 of Savage Saint
I let my shoulders drop slightly, a deliberate show of submission. His smirk widens, satisfaction gleaming in thosemolten eyes. He thinks he's reading me so well, anticipating my surrender.
"Told you it was a bad idea." His voice is low, rough, a predator's purr.
"You can't keep me here against my will." I sway slightly, shifting my weight to my back foot. It's a small movement, barely noticeable. But Angelo's body responds instantly, unconsciously mirroring my stance. His weight shifts ever so slightly to his right leg.
Perfect.
That's the thing about predators. They're so focused on their prey's throat, they forget to watch for the claws.
"Tsk, tsk, Butterfly." he leans closer. “Another lie. We both know you want to stay.”
His words ghost across my skin, but I'm already moving. The motion is fluid, natural, like my body remembers what my mind has forgotten. My fingers close around the cold metal at his hip, and the gun slides free of its holster with barely a whisper.
The weight settles into my palm, familiar and sure. Angelo's still smirking, still thinking he's got me exactly where he wants me. His body heat radiates against mine, and for a split second, I let myself feel it. Let him think he's won.
Amateur.
My breath hitches, making his body stiffen. Reluctantly, he takes a step back, then another one, putting distance between us. The gun's hidden behind my back as I smirk at him knowingly, wondering how quickly he'll notice I've got the upper hand.
His eyebrows scrunch in confusion as he studies the expression on my face. Slowly, I bring my hands in front of me, lifting the gun to aim at his chest.
Angelo's eyes darken, that molten brown turning to obsidian as his gaze drops to the gun now aimed at his heart. His jaw tightens, the only tell that I've caught him off guard.
"And so the mouse aims a gun at the cat." The words taste like victory on my tongue. Sweet. Dangerous.
His chest rises and falls, and I can't help but notice how steady his breathing remains. Even now, with the tables turned, he's the picture of control.
But I'm the one holding the gun.
My index finger presses against the trigger slightly, just enough to feel the resistance. The cold metal of the gun stings against my skin as I watch him, waiting for... something. Anything. The arrogant smirk, a quick movement to disarm me, harsh words meant to make me back down.
Instead, Angelo exhales, slow and steady, like he's releasing something heavy he's been carrying. His shoulders drop, tension bleeding out of his frame.
What the hell?
The gun suddenly feels heavier in my hands. Wrong. This isn't how it's supposed to go. He's supposed to fight back, to prove I'm just another threat he needs to eliminate. To show me exactly why they call him Savage.
"Do it," he says, voice rough like gravel. Like the words are being torn from somewhere deep inside him.
My stomach twists. There's something in his voice. Something raw and honest that makes my chest tight. This isn't an act. This isn't manipulation.
He closes his eyes.
Holy shit, does he actually want me to pull the trigger?
The realisation hits me like a physical blow. The gun wavers slightly in my grip, but I force my hands steady. Behind him, something moves in the shadows of the trees. A branch snaps, the sound sharp in the heavy silence.
I click off the safety, the metallic sound echoing between us. Angelo doesn't flinch. Doesn't open his eyes. Just stands there, waiting for the bullet that will end him.
My heart pounds against my ribs, but not from fear. Not from victory either. This feels... different. Dangerous in a way that has nothing to do with violence.
The air shifts.
A low rumble cuts through the silence, not thunder, something closer. More primal. The hairs on the back of my neck stand up as a shadow moves behind Angelo, massive and dark against the filtered sunlight.
My breath catches. Time slows to a crawl as the bear emerges from between the trees, its bulk casting Angelo in shadow. The beast towers over him, muscles rippling beneath thick black fur. Its breath comes in heavy huffs, visible in the cold air.
Angelo keeps his eyes closed, completely unaware of the death looming behind him. The bear's claws flex against the earth, silent and deadly, leaving deep gouges in the soil. One swipe of those weapons would tear through flesh like paper.
