Her lips press into a thin line, her jaw tightening. She doesn’t answer, but her magic hums louder, pulsing in time with her quickened breaths.
“Go on,” I urge, my tone taunting. “Make your move. Let’s see what you’re capable of, Zara.”
The sound of her name on my lips makes her flinch, and I savor the reaction. She’s teetering on the edge, caught between defiance and fear. She’s responsive and it’s a pity she’s so fucking defiant. The girl would have made a fine plaything if she weren’t so disgustingly despicable, but she’s stained her soul with her actions and I won’t let her misdeeds contaminate my being.
“I won’t let you take me,” she says, her voice trembling. “Not without a fight.”
I step into the light and her eyes widen as her mouth falls open in disbelief. I’d forgotten I have this effect on women, forgotten that my height intimidates them as much as my sheer damn size. My dark hair and darker eyes do little to soften my appearance, and the tattoos painted on my skin make me even harder. Even more vicious. More dangerous even.
Her pupils dilate and I step closer, watching the witch who’s caused me so many problems take me in and react in a way neither of us could have predicted. Fuck, the girl’s aroused. Her head’s fighting it and the rest of her is trying to deny it, but the quickened breaths and her parted lips confirm that Zara is turned the fuck on by my presence.
“Kade?”
I nod, certain my reputation precedes me.
“I won’t take you,” I sigh, amusement curling through me. “This isn’t about taking you. This is about making an example of you. About showing all the other witches what happens when you do something so fucking stupid and step out of line.”
Her magic flares, and she finally unleashes it, a burst of energy aimed directly at me. I don’t move. I don’t need to. The spell dissipates before it even reaches me, dissolving into nothing but a faint shimmer in the air. She’s not strong enough to touch me—not even close—and the realization crashes over her like the weight of the storm.
“Impressive,” I say, letting my voice drip with mockery. “For something so weak.”
Zara stumbles back a step, her defiance faltering, and I smirk, letting the silence stretch between us, thick and heavy. I fight against the urge to lunge for her now, savoring every moment of her agony as I draw her predicament out.
“That’s it?” I mock, tilting my head. “That’s what all this running has been for? Pathetic.”
“Fuck you,” she spits, but her voice wavers.
She straightens up, and the emerald in her eyes sparks with defiance. Zara’s bold, and her insolence is rare. It’s magnificent, really. Stunningly beautiful, if completely fucking futile. It’s been decades since a witch even dared to say no to me, let alone defy me like this and she’s caught my attention in all the wrong ways for her.
I crave the excitement of tormenting her. Of playing with her. Of dragging this out longer than is necessary, for nothing more than my pleasure. For my fucking relief.
And if she’s a fucking good girl, I might fuck her before I kill her and let her experience the pleasure of my cock. But she’s damn well going to earn that particular reward, and my needs are not insubstantial. I’m not easy to please and my desire to make her hurt is taking over.
I want her to suffer. I want her to scream and cry and plead for my mercy as I show her none, and I want her blood and sweat and tears. All of them, every last one until she accepts her place beneath me.
“You want to prove you’re more than a fucking waste of my time, sweetheart?” My voice drops lower, a dark promise in every word. “Run.”
Her eyes widen, confusion flickering behind the fear. “What?”
“You heard me.” I shrug, loosening the grip on my blade and gesturing to the surrounding forest. “Run. I’ll let you go if you can escape.” She shakes her head in disbelief, sensing a trick. “No tricks, no traps. You versus me. Let’s see how long you last.”
“Liar,” she spits.
“You heard me.” I shrug, loosening the grip on my blade and gesturing to the forest around us. “Run, darling. Run for me.”
Her hesitation lasts for the time between heartbeats—a single, trembling breath.
She bolts, her magic flaring around her in a desperate attempt to shield herself from me as she disappears into the trees.
I grant her a few seconds, counting each one out loudwith deliberate slowness. The thrill of the hunt courses through me, sharp and exhilarating. My count ends at ten, my voice a razor slicing through the silence and I come alive. I unsheathe the full weight of my power and the forest trembles in response as I answer the call of the chase, determined to catch my prey.
