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Dragging me a few feet, his fingers dig into my arm. I curse and fight him the whole way. Pulling. Screeching. Yanking.
Finally, all my twisting and turning pays off, and he loosens his hand for half a second.
“God damnit, hold still!” he shouts, his grip loosening just enough for me to taste freedom.
A surge of euphoria pumps through my body as I collapse to the sand and immediately begin speed-crawling away on my hands and knees.
I don’t get far before his hands are in my long, loose hair, his fingers digging into my scalp, holding me off the ground.
“Let me go!” I scream. “Or I’ll kill you!”
“I’d like to see you try,” he laughs darkly as his free hand comes down swiftly, smacking me across the face.
I release a broken moan of surprise at the impact, hot tears burgeoning in my eyes.
But I barely have time to feel the sting from the blow before I’m inexplicably set free, stumbling down to my hands and knees.
37
Stupid Enough to Love Him
Hetty
I don’t move right away, inhaling deep, labored breaths, attempting to fill my lungs with as much oxygen as possible. My hands, pressed against the hard, wet sand are burning from the fall, and my cheek is still aching from Cass’s smack.
I don’t need to look up to know that Noah’s here, and he’s furious.
After a few fortifying breaths, I finally push my tangled hair out of my face to see him, enormous, angry, and vengeful, standing straight as a column as he holds Cass up by the neck.
Cass wiggles six feet in the air like a worm on a hook, his face getting more and more purple with each passing second.
“You put your hands on my mate. Hurt her,” Noah grits out, sweat beading on his forehead, his eyes bright with fury. “So, now I have to kill you.”
Cass scoffs, not convinced. But the more he fruitlessly squirms, the more distressed he becomes. Obviously unable to breathe, he stops moving completely, his expression petrified as he stares deep into Noah’s fathomless eyes. He sees something there. Something that scares him.
“Look, I didn’t know she was your mate,” he manages to choke out, but he doesn’t get to finish.
Noah drops him in the sand, and he lands hard. Immediately, he starts scuttling backward, toward the water.
I rise to my feet, staggering toward Noah. Before I can say anything, he swings an arm out, pushing me behind him as an indiscernible force thrusts Cass’s body into the lake, deep under the water. The water moves in a violent wave as his body is plunged further and further out, never once rising to the surface.
Until, finally, he stops.
Both the lake and Noah’s face are still, but his chest is moving up and down methodically as if he’s concentrating on a puckered portion of the water—presumably Cass’s location.
Blankly, I watch the gentle ripples spreading out in the still water until telling air bubbles begin to rise to the surface.
He’s drowning.
I inhale sharply—Noah’s going to kill him.
An image of Noah, much younger, quietly releasing the snake Stella and I placed in his bed out the window flashes in my mind.
Noble.
Honorable.
I can’t be the reason that he’s not that person anymore. I can’t make him a killer.
