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“I don’t give a fuck what your name is. You’re whatever and whoever I want you to be.”
Being blessed with common sense, Kara knew when to push and when not to. She clamped her lips together and glared at him.
Unlike her, I would gladly piss Samael off. I opened my mouth to snap at him for talking to her like that, slamming it shut when his lips pressed against my cheek. His arms fell away, and he stepped up so that we were side by side, partially angling his face so that he could look down at me.
It was unfair for someone to look this good. Samael was gorgeous when surrounded by darkness, but in the light, he was devastating. I hadn’t forgotten our words to one another the night before, or the fact that he’d left me flowers again. So, while I wanted to cleanly slick off his balls, I also wanted to throw my arms around him and apologize.
My brows furrowed in suspicion when I caught the mischievous glint dancing within his eyes. A smile lingered at the corners of his mouth.
I knew this look.
“What are you—?”
He moved forward before I could finish asking what he was about to do.
He lifted his steel-toed boot and brought it down on the jagged bone sticking out of Mack’s leg. The bellow of pain Mack released had my mouth going dry.
“Apologize,” Samael demanded, applying enough pressure that something audibly popped beneath the tissue, causing more blood to seep out.
I contemplated trying to shove him away until Amo gave me a stern look, slightly shaking his head. I didn’t care for the guy, but that didn’t mean I’d stupidly go against what I knew was right just to be spiteful.
Intervening on Mack’s behalf would only make things worse. He clawed at the ground, screaming in agony, frantically trying to crawl away.
“Apologize, or I’ll break it in half and then have Amo finish the other leg.” Samael’s voice was deceptively calm, just loud enough to be heard over Mack’s pleas.
I was a bit confused, to be honest. I knew he wouldn’t like him approaching me, but why was he making him apologize? He hadn’t done anything except walk me to and from my cabin.
“What…what’s he supposed to be apologizing for?” I finally asked.
“To put it simply, he confided in Tigger and Brody about you,” Aurora answered.
I sighed. Of all the people to run his mouth to, Mack chose two of the most loyal people here. What an idiot.
My advice this morning had changed nothing. He’d all but brought the guillotine down on himself.
His boot still on the bone, Samael began to bend it back in the opposite direction. It popped, causing my stomach to churn. I clasped my hands behind my neck and sighed. If Mack were semi-intelligent, he’d spit out an apology and sound like he meant it even if he didn’t. Otherwise, this could go on for hours.
“I’m sorry,” Mack cried out. “I shouldn’t have—!” His shrill voice cut off with another agonized scream as Samael put more weight on the bone, causing a portion to snap off.
“You’re right, you shouldn’t have,” he affirmed matter-of-factly.
“Lilith,” Dawn whispered, coming way too close to me.
Since we were the same height, I found myself looking into eyes nearly the same color as mine.
They were brighter, damn near sparkling. I wish I could say that was the only similarity we had.
It was easier to list the differences between us. Like the freckles that covered her bubble shaped cheeks and her ample chest. Or her amazingly plump lips. It didn’t take a genius to know why Samael kept her around. The way she was staring at me right then was not only kinda creepy, but…was that hope reflected in her gaze?
“Do something,” she urged with a whisper.
“Excuse me?”
There was no way she could be serious. Had this girl learned nothing since being here? Her distress wasn’t going to have any effect, and neither would me pretending to care. Samael wasn’t swayed by the discomfort or emotional opinions of others. That’s part of what made him so lethal, never giving a damn.
When Samael wanted to inflict harm, he did. And he wouldn’t stop until he was the one who decided it was enough. The level of brutality was always subject to the reason he felt the need to get violent in the first place—justified or not.
He was like me, a Savage at heart. The only moral code he followed was whichever one he felt was right. He’d used that same perspective when building an empire to call his own, which was a major attribute to why it was thriving so well.
To prove my point…
“Mal,” I called to get his attention.
Unsurprisingly, I was ignored. He reached behind him and lifted his shirt, going for the gambit that was secured in a horizontal holster.
