Page 81 of The Monster You Made
I say nothing at first. Silence is safer. But silence feeds him too. Vera’s gaze burns against me, demanding more. At last, I rasp, “We break what we can, when we can. His jaws close either way. Better to break teeth on the way down.”
The words taste like ash, but the rebels nod, relief flooding their faces. Their cheers rise weakly, but they rise.
Vera steps close after the council scatters. Her voice is low, sharp. “You sound like him when you say it that way.”
I meet her eyes, shadow pressing hard against me. “Maybe I am him.”
She grips my wrist hard, nails biting skin. “No. You are not. Not while I’m here.”
Her fire sears. For a moment, the whisper fades.
***
That night, we camp in a narrow ravine. Fires gutter in the cold, their smoke clinging low. The freed huddle close, their whispers trembling prayers. The rebels sharpen blades, their eyes hollow but hard. I pace the perimeter, sword in hand, eyes scanning the dark. Declan coils in the silence.
They sing your name, Wolf. They kneel when you pass. They bleed at your word. Tell me, do you feel their chains binding you yet? Or do you still pretend they’re free?
My grip tightens. My breath fogs heavily. For a heartbeat, I want to answer him. For a heartbeat, I want to admit the truth: that every cheer is another link in the chain.
Instead, I walk faster, until the whispers blur into the wind.
***
Near midnight, Vera finds me at the edge of camp. Her cloak is pulled tight, frost glittering in her hair. “You haven’t slept,” she says.
“I can’t.”
Her eyes search mine. “Because of him?”
I do not answer. I do not need to. She steps closer, her hand brushing mine. “Then let me be louder than him.”
Her voice cuts through the cold. Her warmth seeps into my hand. For a breath, the whispers are silent. For a breath, I am only Lucian.
Her fingers tighten around mine, a challenge in her grip, and I feel the familiar heat stirring in my gut, the beast waking. She’s too close, her scent, pine, leather, and something sharp, filling my lungs, making my cock twitch. I want to shove her away, to keep the control I cling to, but her eyes are fire, daring me to break.
“Vera,” I growl, a warning, my voice rough with the exhaustion I won’t admit. “Not now.”
She doesn’t listen. She never does. Instead, she steps into me, her body pressing against mine, her lips finding my jaw, soft but deliberate. The contact sends a jolt through me, my pulse hammering, and I tense, my hands clenching at my sides.
“Stop,” I mutter, but it’s weak, half-hearted, and she knows it.
Her mouth moves lower, kissing the pulse at my throat, her teeth grazing my skin, and I hiss, my cock hardening painfully against my pants. She’s pushing me, testing me, and I want to punish her for it, to make her yield, but her lips are relentless, trailing down my chest, unbuttoning my shirt with deft fingers.
“Vera,” I say again, sharper, but she ignores me, her hands shoving my shirt open, exposing my chest to the cold night air.
Her lips find my nipple, her tongue flicking over it, and I groan, the sound raw and unbidden. She sucks, hard, her teeth nipping, and the sensation is a blade, sharp and electric, cutting through my restraint. My hands fist in her hair, not pulling her away but holding her there, because fuck, it feels too good, too raw. She moves to the other nipple, her tongue swirling, her nails scraping down my abdomen, and I’m shaking now, my control slipping with every touch.
“Fuck, stop,” I growl, but my voice is wrecked, and she laughs, low and mocking, her breath hot against my skin. She’s dropping lower now, her hands tugging at my belt, her fingers brushing the bulge of my cock, and I’m losing it, the anger and need tangling in my veins. “You don’t get to do this,” I snap, grabbing her shoulders, trying to pull her up, but she resists, her eyes meeting mine, defiant, daring.
“Let me,” she says, her voice a blade, and she yanks my pants down, freeing my cock.
It’s thick, throbbing, the head slick with precum, and she doesn’t hesitate, her lips brushing the tip, teasing, torturing. Igrowl, my hands tightening in her hair, but she’s in control now, and I hate it as much as I want it. Her tongue swirls around the head, slow and deliberate, and I curse, my hips jerking despite myself. She takes me into her mouth, her lips stretching around me, and it’s hot, wet, fucking perfect. She sucks, hard, her tongue working the underside, and I’m shaking, my control shattering.
“Fuck, Vera,” I groan, my hands guiding her now, pushing her deeper.
She resists, just enough to make me fight for it, her nails digging into my thighs, the pain a spark to the fire in my blood. I thrust, shallow at first, testing her, but she takes it, her mouth tight and eager, her eyes locked on mine. I lose it then, the beast taking over, and I fuck her mouth, hard and relentless, my cock hitting the back of her throat. She gags, but doesn’t pull away, her hands gripping my hips, urging me on. The sight of her, lips swollen, eyes watering, is too much, and I come, hard, my cum spilling down her throat, hot and thick. She swallows every drop, and I’m wrecked, my knees buckling as I slump against the tree behind me.
She pulls back, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand, her eyes gleaming with triumph. I’m panting, exhausted, but she’s not done. She stands, shrugging off her cloak, her shirt, until she’s bare from the waist up, her breasts full and perfect in the moonlight. My cock twitches, already stirring, and she smirks, climbing over me as I sink to the ground, my back against the tree. She straddles my face, her pants gone, her cunt glistening above me, and I groan, the scent of her driving me wild.
