Page 49 of Demons In My Head: Exposing the Exiled
"That was quite the speech," he murmured.
I snorted, keeping my voice low. "Yeah, well, fake it till you make it, right?"
"There was nothing fake about that," he replied. "You're a natural leader, Palmer. They can sense it."
I didn't get the chance to respond before the big, burly asshole who called me out earlier was suddenly by my side with a tablet that showed all of the security camera feeds. "I apologize for my comment earlier, Palmer. It's no excuse, but I was just so wired from that fight with Scorpio. Look, I have all systems working perfectly here. We're going to lock down tighter than ever. You can depend on us. Go help our boys, bring them back to where they fuckin' belong."
I kept my face neutral. "This is excellent. Keep this up, and I'll make sure they know exactly who helped lead the defense. I do have to go, though. Seriously, be smart. Smarter than ever. Be prepared for anything and everything. I'll be back as soon as possible."
"Yes, ma'am, I will. Good luck." With that, he turned and started barking orders at lower members, and I smirked. I'd dealt with men like that my entire life. Sometimes you just had to know how to handle them in order to win them over.
"Flawless," Jasper whispered, sending a shiver down my spine. "Now come on, let's get you to Besmet."
Chapter eleven
Scorpio
Istormed through the dimly lit corridors of my compound, each footstep echoing like thunder, a testament to the fury boiling within me. The hilt of Hunter’s knife stuck out of my thigh, but I didn’t even feel it. All I felt was absolute rage. My men scattered like roaches, pressing themselves against the cold stone walls to avoid my wrath. They knew better than to get in my way when I was like this—a ticking time bomb ready to explode.
The doors to my private chambers swung open with a violent crash, slamming against the walls with enough force to rattle the very foundations of the building. I strode in, my breath coming in ragged gasps, my heart pounding like a war drum in my chest. The room was a reflection of my inner turmoil—dark, chaotic, and dripping with an aura of danger.
I ripped off my leather jacket, flinging it across the room. It landed with a thud on the obsidian floor, a stark contrast to the pale skin of my arms. I reached down and gripped the hilt of the blade that penetrated my thigh and ripped it out with a hiss of pain. The physical discomfort was nothing compared to the ragewithin me. I hurled the knife across the room so hard it slammed into the wall, splattering my blood that covered the blade.
I wasn’t satisfied. I swiped everything off my bedside table and threw that next. It shattered on impact, splinters flying like shrapnel in a war zone. The sound echoed through my room, a perfect representation of destruction that matched the storm inside me.
How could she have bested me? Palmer Vale—the girl I had overpowered since the day I first laid eyes on her. My mind raced back to our encounters, her defiance igniting a fire in me I couldn't extinguish. "WHY CAN'T SHE JUST FUCKING OBEY?!" I smashed my fist against the mirror, and it cracked like my confidence—spiderwebs of glass radiating outward as fragments tumbled to the floor. My reflection twisted in those shards, a distorted image of rage and frustration.
“Damn it!” I growled, pacing the room like a caged animal. Every breath burned in my lungs as memories flickered through my mind—her steady gaze meeting mine with that defiant spark. She had always been resilient, but now she had discovered her strength and was wielding it against me like a professional.
I sank onto the edge of the bed, my head pounding with a mix of rage and something far more sinister. The image of Palmer and that ghostly bastard burned in my mind like a brand. The way they looked at each other and the silent understanding that passed between them—it made my skin crawl.
"What the hell is it about him?" I muttered, clenching my fists until my knuckles turned white. The thought of Palmer finding solace in anyone but me was unbearable. She was mine. Mine to torment, mine to fuck. The idea of her sharing some unspoken bond with that pathetic specter filled me with a jealousy so potent it was like acid in my veins.
I stood up abruptly, pacing the room again, my boots echoing on the cold stone floor. The pain in my arm was a distantannoyance compared to the storm raging inside me. I couldn't shake the image of them together—her eyes softening, his form flickering with a warmth that should have been impossible for a ghost.
"Disgusting," I spat, kicking a shard of the broken mirror across the room. It skittered along the floor, reflecting the dim light in fractured beams. "She's mine. She's always been mine."
My mind drifted back to the first time I saw her—the defiance in her eyes, the strength in her stance. I had been drawn to her like a moth to a flame, determined to break her, to make her mine. And now, after all this time, she was slipping through my fingers, drawn to some ghostly figure who couldn't even fuck her like a real man.
"I'll show her," I growled, my voice low and menacing. "I'll show her what real power is. What real control feels like."
I stopped pacing, my eyes landing on the whip coiled neatly on the wall. The leather was dark, almost black, stained with the blood of those who had defied me. I ran my fingers along it, feeling its rough texture and promise of pain it held.
"She needs to be reminded," I said, my voice barely above a whisper. "Reminded of who she belongs to. Reminded of the consequences of defiance."
The thought of marking her skin, of hearing her cry out in pain, sent a shiver of anticipation down my spine. I was a sadist, and I reveled in it. The more she fought, the more I wanted to break her. The more she defied me, the more I craved her submission.
"A ghost? A fuckingghost," I sneered, the word leaving a bitter taste in my mouth. "He can't protect her. He can't even touch her properly. He's nothing but a shadow, a memory. I am real. I am flesh and blood. I am the one who will make her scream."
I turned away from the whip, my mind made up. I would find her. I would remind her of her place, of her role in my world.And I would enjoy every second of it. The images of the two of them connecting, amplifying her power… if I could connect with her, I'd be unstoppable. A slow smile spread across my bloody face.
"Palmer," I said, her name a promise on my lips. "You can't hide from me forever. You can't run from what you are, from what we are." I laughed wildly. "You've figured it out, babe. Now we'll be the most powerful couple in the universe. You belong to me. And I will make sure you never forget it."
“Scorpio!” One of my men dared to enter, wide-eyed and nervous. He stopped short at the sight of chaos enveloping my quarters. “What’s going on?”
I whirled around, pointing at him with an accusing finger. “What do you think is going on? That little witch thinks she can outsmart me?” The venom dripped from each word.
His eyes widened further as he took a step back. “We can regroup—”
