Page 59 of Pretty Vile

Her lips part on a silent O, momentarily snagging my attention.

Fixating on them, I murmur, "I understand why you left. You’re so damn stubborn. So strong-minded. So smart and determined. You were right to go out and forge your own way in this world. I was pissed because, when you left, I realized you’d been keeping the ghosts of my past at bay. Without you around, they came roaring to life, pulling me down into the darkest pits of hell."

My eyes seek hers, noting the sheen of tears, as my thumb continues its soothing path back and forth across her pulse. "And then you came back, and simply being around you quieted the voices. One look at you and my pain was dulled." My fingers dig into her skin, but I don’t tighten my hold. "I wanted to hate you.Neededto. It didn’t seem fair that you could just waltz back into my life and chase away the demons I’ve been battling ever since you walked away."

My muscles are rigid, straining to curl around her and give in to that unbearable need I’ve been fighting futilely for weeks now.

As a compromise, I press my forehead against hers, drinking in her soft, jasmine scent. Staring straight at her, I drop those walls that keep the demons at bay. The ones that keep the worst parts of me shackled behind bars, hidden away, so the world doesn’t see that I’m not like everyone else.

Angel gasps, finally understanding the ferocity of the beast she’s been tangoing with. Still, the way her chin lifts as she steadily holds my gaze shows me that although she’s surprised, she’s not afraid.

Her hand snakes up between our bodies until it eclipses the dark hole where the wretched organ in my chest resides. It thumps traitorously at her touch. “You won’t ever have to battle them alone again. From this moment on, I’ll be here to help you drive them out. There isn’t anything you can do to scare me away.”

Conviction rings with every word, even as I smirk cruelly at her. Pretty words from pretty lips, and no matter how much I may want to believe in them, I need to remain the vile monster that I am.

“You were right to run when you did.” There’s a sinister ring to my words as I slide my fingers along the back of her neck, seeking the spot where her tracker resides. Finding the correct place, I press my index finger over the implanted rod, liking the feel of it beneath her skin and knowing that it’s there and that she didn’t remove it.

She sighs blissfully as I move my finger over the implant, as though its presence is a comfort and my touch is a pleasant reminder of the lengths I’d go to for her. Which, I realize now, is exactly what I meant by drugging her and ensuring she couldn’t shoot me down before I embedded it beneath her skin. That was me deciding she was mine, and I wasn’t going to let her go—not to some bitch who thinks she owns her, and not because she decided to run again.

She should have stayed gone while she had the choice. She forfeited her freedom by coming back here. Relinquished her right to live unencumbered by me or my demons.

Unable to help myself, I lean in until my lips brush hers. A bending of my resolve, however I refuse to give in completely. Refuse to give either of us what we both so badly need. Because, despite every molecule in my body demanding that I do so, I’m not ready to wholly give myself over to Emilia Harrison, just yet.

I can’t let her go, but equally, I can’t claim that I’ll forever be hers.

I’ve decided she’s mine, but I’m not yet ready to be hers. The only thing I do know is that I’m not done with her yet. I don’t think I ever will be.

“If you were smart, you would have stayed gone,” I warn in a low growl. My voice barely sounds human, my demons rattling the bars of their cages. They can taste the promise of freedom on their tongues, and they’re demanding release. “I didn’t chase after you before, but if you leave me again, I’ll hunt you to the ends of the earth.”

Chapter16

EMILIA

If you leave me again, I’ll hunt you to the ends of the earth.

My body shudders, except not with revulsion or alarm like it probably should.

No, every dark, depraved part of my being that I never knew existed is submitting beneath Wilder’s dominance.

Hell, I’m too afraid to even speak in case all that comes out is a contented purr.

His words may be intended to instill fear, but they have the opposite effect. In the absence of that fear, I find myself falling irrevocably in love with Wilder Clearwater. With every single one of his demons. With all of his ghosts. With the monsters nipping at his heels and the voices in his head. With his quirky sense of style and the weird shit he says. With his hateful glares and heated glances.

I have no doubt that his threat is real, but I’m not afraid. I don’t need to be, because I’m done running from him. It’s a mistake I won’t make twice, no matter how hard he may try to push me away.

I’ve seen all of him, and I’m not scared. I’m not intimidated. I don’t feel the need to cower, because, as ruthless as Wilder may be, he would never actually hurt me. He’s already proven that—not that he even needed to for me to know.

Wilder is the antithesis of everything I thought I wanted in a man, although he’s everything I’ll ever need.

And I want to be everything to him, too.

Since he hasn’t moved, I press forward, intent on closing the scant space between us and pressing my lips firmly to his. Except the second I move, his hand tightens around my throat, holding me in place.

My lips pull down in a frown as I glower at him in annoyance. My gaze darts back and forth between his, probing until I realize he's still holding back.

Stubborn fucking asshole.

Glowering, I bring my hands up and shove at his chest. Because he’s as solid as a brick wall, he doesn’t budge, but I keep hitting and pushing and shoving until he backs the fuck up.

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