Page 27 of Welcome to Carnage

I can’t help the laugh that escapes me. It’s harsh and mocking as it seems to echo eerily through the quiet woods. “Go ahead and scream, baby. Let’s see who comes to save you.”

“I’m not afraid of you, Nyx,” she retorts, her voice stronger than before. There’s a fire in her eyes that sets my blood ablaze. I press closer to feel the heat radiating off her.

“Oh, you should be,” I murmur, my voice low and husky. My hand lifts, tracing a path from my little hellion’s throat to her collarbone. She shivers at my touch but remains defiant. “You have no idea what I’m capable of.”

I lean in close. Avina’s breath hitches, her pulse quickening under my touch. I draw back, my eyes raking over her face. She looks ethereal, beautiful, and so vulnerable in the moonlight.

“What do you want, Nyx?” she whispers.

I smirk, my fingers tracing a hot path down her side. “I want you, Avina,” I growl, my voice filled with raw desire. “I want to claim you, mark you as mine. And before the night is through, you won’t be able to deny that you want it too.”

“You’re insane,” she breathes, eyes wide with disbelief. But beneath that, there’s intrigue, curiosity and desire. I can’t help but be drawn to it, like a moth to a flame.

“Oh, sweetheart,” I chuckle as I pull her closer, “insanity never felt so good.”

I lift the mask and capture her lips in a heated kiss, my hands roaming over her body, claiming what’s mine. She gasps, her fingers clutching at my shirt as if it’s her only lifeline. I pull back enough to study her. Her flushed cheeks, heaving chest, the wild look in her eyes. All of it is intoxicating.

“You still want to scream?” I ask, my voice taunting. I stroke a thumb over her swollen lips, relishing her shuddering.

Her response is a shake of her head. A silent surrender. A promise of more.

I grin. “Good,” I murmur, “because tonight, Avina, I intend to make you scream for a different reason altogether.”

AVINA

As Nyx’s words leave his lips, a mix of emotions hits me. Fear? Probably. Excitement? Most definitely. His mask is back on. The same one that haunted my dreams for two years. His hard gaze is locked on mine through it, a feral glint in his eyes that I’ve never seen before. It’s raw and carnal, just like him.

“Nyx,” I breathe, my voice barely a whisper. His name feels like a prayer on my lips, a plea and a surrender.

The heat in his gaze is unwavering. His fingers trace a tantalizing path down my side, sending jolts of electricity through my veins.

I squirm under his touch, a gasp escaping my lips. “Nyx,” I whimper, clutching at his shirt.

“Scream for me, Avina,” he growls, his voice low and dangerous.

And in that moment, I realize that I’m not afraid. Not of Nyx, the dark woods, or even the primal play that’s about to unfold. In his twisted way, I know he cares for me. And tonight, I’m ready to submit to the darkness and surrender to my masked man.

I do as I’m told and let out a scream.

“Such a good little hellion.” He leans toward my ear. “Now, I want you to run again, and this time, when I catch you, there won’t be any toying. I’m going to ruin you.”

I swallow hard, searching his dark eyes through the mask.

“Run, Avina,” he commands.

“But, what—”

“I said, run.” The harshness of his voice is warning enough as I sprint further into the woods.

A dark laugh chases after me, echoing through the trees. It’s exhilarating. Despite being cold, I have hardly felt it since we arrived, heated by the crazy game we’re playing. My heart pounds erratically in my chest as I weave through the trees. The crunch of leaves beneath my feet sounds louder than it should. And my breathing sounds like a car engine. I’m like a fucking beacon leading him right to me.

I stop by a tree and press my back against it, trying to quiet my breathing.

Within seconds, he’s on me. Strong arms wrap around me in a vise-like grip. He doesn’t speak; he merely pushes the mask to reveal his lips, moving them to my neck. Nyx sucks hard enough to leave a bruise before biting the spot.

I yelp at the sensation. “Nyx,” I whimper.

His touch is rough but not harmful. I gasp as his fingers curl around my waist, his other hand tangling in my hair. “Nyx,” I moan, surrendering myself.

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