Page 132 of Beneath the Light of the Moon
The pain distracted him, his limbs loosening their hold around her, which she took immediate advantage of. Dislodging him, she turned onto her stomach and crawled toward her knife, her fingers reached out,almosttouching what she desired.
Leaping onto her, Mikko tried pulling her away, back toward himself in an effort to dissuade her from grabbing the weapon.
And when he thought he had—
Whipping around, eyes flashing with vengeance, Anika swung at him.
A stinging sensation seared through him, slicing through the fabric of his balaclava. Warm liquid dripped down his cheek as he looked down at Anika, droplets of blood splattering onto her chest. Her armed hand was raised, ready to strike again if she needed to, but Mikko could only laugh.
“Damn, not my pretty face,” he drawled. “Now youreallywon’t want to date me.”
“As if I ever did before.”
“True, you did pick Levi even after meeting me.”
“Second time’s a,” she swung her blade at him, but he blocked it,“charm.”
“You think you’re going to make it outta here alive?” he murmured,voice deadly calm as the rage took over.
“You couldneverkill me,malysh.” Her chest heaved, body bruised and battered from their scramble, but her words were sure.
His hand brushed against the cut on his cheek, teeth clenching at the burn of it. His fingers came back wet andred.Too bad that was his favorite fucking color. He saw his own blood drip down the edge of the knife Anika still clung to. It gleamed, thirsty for more—for another taste of his tangible sacrifice.
It took more than this to deter him.
Harshly, he swiped his bloodied fingers across Anika’s mouth, fingers pushing past her parted lips, needing to mark her—yearning to make her taste her own consequences. The wet heat of her mouth enveloped his two digits, her surprised gasp quickly muffled by his intrusion. Farther than he should’ve gone, he pushed, determined to make her gag and heave and regret everysingledecision leading her here.
And he’d enjoy torturing her along the way.
His other hand grasped hers, her grip slipping but she held tight even as the sharp edge bit into her hand. He didn’t stop until the blade cut through her skin, more crimson bubbling up and dripping across their knuckles.
“You forget,” he started, “I grew up with a father who did this for aliving.”
A flash of pain radiated over his fingers as Anika bit down on his digits still partially lodged in her mouth. Her teeth sank into his knuckles before he quickly yanked his hand back. Skin sloughed off, her teeth scraping the top layer off.
“Fuck!”
She spat out the gore gathering in her mouth. “You taste like shit.”
Somewhere in the corner of his mind, he knew he should stop. The plan—despite his fluctuating emotions—wasn’t to kill Anika, justdebilitate her until he came up with a way to convince her to work forhim. With burning muscles, Mikko held her down, fingers slipping in the blood pooling between them. Every action became increasingly more difficult, their bodies tired and slick.
The metallic tang coating the air had Mikko’s mouth watering as he fought for a hold on Anika. She wouldnotwin this fight. He remained solid even though his body screamed in defiance. Muscles ached, begging for release, but he pressed on.
Her cheeks were flushed from the adrenaline, eyes wide, taking in the scene before her. Mikko knew his own masked face was splattered in crimson, emerald eyes contrasting with it, but he didn’t care. This was him; she had to realize that sooner rather than later.
This is us.
The clothes he wore were soaked, both his Anika’s and growing heavy with sweat—
Defying all odds, Anika let out a primal screech, her other hand ripping free from beneath his leg. Coated in blood, it allowed her to wiggle free and supplement her other hand currently holding the knife.
Thrusting up, blade gripped by the other of them, she impaled him with it. It was a shallow stab, but the pain radiating out from the wound hurt nonetheless. A wheeze fell from his lips as annoyance faded to shock.
Fuck this,he thought dismally.
He fell off her writhing body, her fury untamable, and she scrambled back, soiled knife still clutched in her bleeding and cut hands. Glancing over at Levi, his chest was rising and falling, but his eyes were closed, the flower’s properties in full effect now.
Fuck.
