Page 88

Forbidden Fruit

RYDER

7:00 AM

The creature cowering against the dead oak’s stump whimpers, a pathetic, wet bubbling rasp as red froth drips from his lower lip. The puddle beneath his ripped thigh seeps rapidly into the moist ground, painting the mud a thick, dark crimson as his strength wanes.

Without uttering a single word, a quiet message is shared between Harmony and me.

Harmony enters his space first, moving quietly over the pine needles. She grabs a handful of his soaked hair, yanking his head backward until his neck snaps taut against the rough bark.

The man’s pupils dilate into massive black pools of pure, raw terror. He attempts to draw a breath to scream, but Harmony brings her heavy hunting blade down in a brutal, plunging arc directly through his collarbone, pinning him to the timber like an insect on a board.

The crunch of cartilage and collarbone snapping echoes through the clearing.

A muffled choke escapes the dying man’s lips, his chest seizing in a violent spasm.

An intense, electric warmth twists inside my stomach, coursing through my body like liquid copper.

Watching her strike—watching the cold, calculated precision of her brutality—sends a violent jolt through my core, settling in my dick.

My heart hammers against my ribs like a trapped beast, every muscle in my shoulders locking tight with an intoxicating, heavy pulse of pure adrenaline that has precum dripping from the head of my dick.

I step forward to complete the work, closing the remaining distance.

I slide my free hand around his jaw, fingers gripping the bone so hard my knuckles turn chalky.

With my right hand, I snatch Harmony’s heavy six-inch steel from his body and drive it straight up beneath his chin. The cold tip slips though the soft floor of his mouth and embeds deep into his brainstem.

A sharp shockwave pulses up my forearm as the blade strikes resistance, then slices through the base of the skull.

The tension in Xander’s body instantly snaps. His eyes roll back into his head, his hands dropping limp into the mud as his breathing ceases entirely.

I twist the steel once—a violent, sickening grind—warm fluid slides down my hand before snatching the blade back out with a fleshy, wet slide.

Blood fountains over my leather-gloved knuckles, hot and thick once the blade fully leaves his skull.

The corpse slumps sideways, his head dangling at an impossible angle as his remaining life force drains out into the moss.

I turn my gaze toward Harmony.

Her chest heaves in heavy, rapid gasps. Her mouth hangs slightly open, her tongue darting out to taste the stray droplets of rain resting on her upper lip.

There’s no tremor in her hands. No remorse lingering on her features. Only euphoric, predatory satisfaction that brightens her golden irises, making them gleam like polished amber in the murky twilight.

Her gaze locks onto the dripping steel in my hand, then rises to meet mine.

The air between us turns agonizingly thick, heavy with the sharp, coppery stench of raw viscera and the suffocating heat of mutual destruction.

Every nerve ending ignites in a rhythmic, pulsing cadence, vibrating against the marrow of my bones until my breath hitches in a shallow, jagged rhythm. The sensation is both a push and pull, stretching me tight until I’m just a solid form of molten restlessness.

Without a word, I grab the corpse under the armpits, while Harmony wraps her hands around his ankles. Together, we haul the dead weight deeper into the impenetrable forest, dragging him fifty yards through the pines to a sunken ravine carved out by an old creek bed.

We roll the body over the muddy ledge, watching it tumble into the deep, black depression where the wolves, flesh eating birds, and bears will tear the meat from his bones before the week is out.

I drop to my knees beside the ravine’s edge, stripping the blood-soaked leather gloves from my fingers and flinging them into the pit atop the corpse.

Harmony steps over me, straddling my lap in one fluid, aggressive motion before I can even stand.