Page 63 of Endgame
“Bad girl.” I tear her off me as if she were a wild animal.
Her lungs heave with every breath. My blood trickles down her chin.
Adrenaline spikes through my veins.
That look, it’s as if she’s actually upset that I broke our kiss.
Soon, she’s going to miss this moment, this reprieve.
Soon, she’ll be begging me to stop.
“You’re going to regret this.” I dip down to lick my blood off this feral little thing. My lips are at her ear after that. Hand digging into her hip. “You’re going to regret the moment you wereborn, wife.”
She turns her face to me, and there’s fire in her eyes. “Try me, husband. I’d like to see you fucking try.”
11
AURORA
Our driver slows as we pass through the gates and roll through the driveway.
My pulse spikes at the sight of the mansion looming ahead.
A punishment waits for me the moment we step inside his home. I can tell by the way Everett grips my wrist. His hand has been a shackle on me since we left the altar.
Shamefully, I don’t hate his touch as much as I should. On the drive and even now, I’ve been stealing glances at where his fingers wrap around my wrist.
The rings he slipped on me have stolen just as much of my focus. Two extra shackles that bind me to him.
Anyone else might feel special wearing them. They’d admire their partner’s thoughtfulness, marvel at the beauty and the cost.
But I know better than to mistake this for love.
The rings. His grip. This whole ceremony.
They’re not gifts. They’re threats, delivered one after the other.
Aurora is off-limits.
His words ring in my ears. The ones he spat at my father.
Everett was fearless. A beast protecting what was his, even if what’s his is something he hates.
He made me feel safe.Safer, to be exact.
Next to him, my adoptive parents could never hurt me.
And as much as Everett would like to believe that he’s the worst monster in my life, he isn’t.
Back home, despair followed me around no matter where I went.
Here, there’s desire.
No hope, there’s none of that here either. Yet I’d still choose this prison over the other one any day of the week. The lesser of two evils.
Maybe one day, freedom will be within reach.
Maybe.
