Page 236 of Coal Hearts

Another stream of foreign language spilled out of her.

She thrashed and fought.

Her belly flexed with panic. Her legs flailed uselessly.

I crossed my arms while she lost herself.

I sank even deeper into the heart of darkness that made everything so viciously free. Her goodness was what made her sad for Peter. Her kindness would be her downfall. I wanted to take every shred of that empathy and sympathy and burn it to fucking dust.

Raising the pipette again, I squeezed out her clotting blood.

“Seventeen.” I grunted as the plop stained my palm.

“Eighteen.” I groaned as Ily stopped fighting and hung dejected and drained in her chains.

“Nineteen. Twenty. Twenty-one. Twenty-two.” I kept counting, losing myself deeper and deeper with every drop. “Twenty-three, twenty-four, twenty-five.” By the time drop number thirty puddled in my hand, I could barely stand up straight.

I ached.

Fucking ached to snap every restraint and be done with this fucking game.

I wanted to drink from the source. Lap from her vein. Count as each bead soaked directly onto my tongue.

Ignoring the sucking noises behind me, I smeared my palm over my heart in the exact spot where I’d drawn the blood from Ily.

Her eyes met mine.

She shook her head with a wet-sad stare.

And I lost myself.

Time ceased to exist as I cut her again, this time above her belly button, slicing through perfect tender skin. Ten droplets from there. Ten to mark my own stomach.

My eyes drifted to her bare pussy.

To the trimmed line of curly black hair.

To the part of her that I’d claimed twice, yet hadn’t truly mastered.

She’d given me her body because she believed I was better than what I was.

It was time I took her against her will because I would never be anything more than a beast.

With steadfast hands, I unbuttoned and unzipped.

Shoving down my trousers, I wrenched off my boxers and stood before my jewel as bare as her.

She didn’t react.

Her eyes filmed over with horrors.

Her skin pallid and cold.

I didn’t like it.

I hated it.

She’d given me no reaction when I’d been an idiotic wannabe hero—a monster doing his best to be a saint. She’d frustrated me as I’d used her, and she fucking irritated me now that I obeyed no such pact.