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Storm was frantically barking, snarling, doing everything his instincts told him to do, save for biting.
He was too little anyway.
His bite would only be an annoyance.
And potentially something that could get him hit or killed.
I couldn’t stand the idea of that happening.
With my mind on Storm, my attacker grabbed the back of my neck, using it to slam my face down on the ground.
The shock overwhelmed the pain for a second, and it wasn’t until I tasted the metallic blood trickling into my mouth from my nose that I realized how hard I’d hit the ground.
“Stupid bitch,” he snapped as he grabbed a handful of my hair near the ends, savagely ripping backward, making sharp pain cascade across my scalp. “You really thought you could get away?” he asked, yanking harder, my neck damn near feeling like it might snap backward. “There’s nowhere on this fucking planet you could hide from me,” he growled. “Where is it?” he asked as the tears that were stinging my eyes started to rush down my cheeks.
It was then that something seemed to snap inside of Storm, making him rush at my attacker, sinking his teeth into some part that I couldn’t see.
My hair was released suddenly, making me face-plant again, but I didn’t stop to think.
I didn’t—and I hoped he forgave me for it—even look back at Storm.
I jumped up to my feet and started to run again, cradling my aching wrist to my chest, and trying to blink the useless tears out of my eyes.
There was a curse from behind me, then a yelp that had my heart crushing in my chest.
Please just run away, Storm, I silently pleaded.
He’d done enough.
He’d given me another chance.
But there was no use.
I only made it a dozen or so yards before hands were reaching out, grabbing me.
“Where the fuck is it, Millie?” he growled, his hot breath in my ear, making my stomach roil. “You’re only making this harder on yourself.”
I was.
I knew that.
But I also knew that I wasn’t going to survive this night. Whether I gave him the information he wanted or not.
So why give it to him?
Why let him win?
“Where?” he snarled, and at my silence, I felt the crack of the back of his hand across my cheek. The impact was enough to have sent me flying, but his arm was holding onto me. “Where the fuck is it?” he yelled, shaking me hard, my head snapping back with a pain that exploded behind my eyes, making me see stars for a moment before I could focus again.
I couldn’t see him clearly in the dark.
But my memory filled in the gaps of vision.
The square jaw. The green eyes. The straight line of his lips.
Objectively, handsome.
If his soul wasn’t pitch-black.
