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Kent tried to scream — the sound of his own bone snapping cut him off. He seemed to choke, the sounds that emerged from his throat little more than garbled cries before he vomited all over himself.
“Ugh, come on, Kent,” I said, as Zane rose up, licking the flecks of blood from his lips. “At least try to maintain some dignity.”
“Please,” the man’s voice trembled, whimpering. “Please, please, just — just kill me…just kill me —”
“Suffering is beautiful, Kent!” I reached down, grabbing his jaw so he was forced to turn his reddened, bloody, tear-and-vomit stained face up to mine. I laughed. “Don’t yousee, Kent? Don’t you understand?Suffer for your God!”
I’d waited so long for this. I’d waited so goddamn long. Every inch of me was tingling; I felt giddy. Every long night I’d laid awake, shaking in the cold, not daring to let my guard down for even a moment because I knew the monsters would close in — they’d led me to this. Every day when I’d walked until my feet bled, with no food, with nowhere to go — they had led me to this. Every intrusive memory, every time I’d curled up shaking, every time I’d looked in the mirror and wept at the ugliness he’d carved into me — it had led me to this.
I slammed my foot down on Kent’s injured leg, eliciting a cry that made Zane laugh. Kent Hadleigh had taken a child and made her a monster. And I had no doubt now: Iwasa monster, as much as Zane was, as much as Leon was. I was all jagged edges and broken pieces, scraped together into something sharp and ugly.
Zane took my wrist and kissed it. He kissed my palm, bloodying his lips, and then ran his tongue across my skin, his barbells caressing me.
“It’s so good to see you smile,” he said, looking up at me as he licked his lips. “It’s goddamn sexy.”
I pulled myself closer to him. All my senses were heightened, every nerve on fire. I was hungry — hungry for him, for how hot and hard his body felt as I ran my hands over his chest and around his neck. I traced my fingers over his lips, over the silver rings of his piercings, and he caught my finger in his mouth and sucked, his tongue moving around me so deliciously that I moaned.
“You’re hard,” I said, grinning up at him as he popped my finger from his mouth. Kent, moaning weakly on the floor, just had to watch. He had to watch me smile, watch me feel good, watch melive.
I hoped it killed him in a way physical death never could.
Zane looked truly monstrous in the dim light, with his painted face spattered with blood and his teeth stained with it. “How could I not be hard watching you like this, love? You look so fucking good with blood on you.”
He ran his claws over my cheek, down to my throat, which he gripped before he kissed me. The taste of blood mingled between us, our tongues moving together. I wanted him, right there in front of Kent. I wanted the vile old man to die knowing he’d failed, utterly and in every way. He’d wanted me to suffer for his God, he’d wanted to take my life away.
But he didn’t get my life, and he wouldn’t get my suffering for even another moment.
Before he died, he’d only see me in joy. He’d only see me in pleasure. I’d given his God enough of my pain.
I turned back to his bleeding and broken form on the floor. Zane held me from behind, his lips on my neck, his body moving eagerly against mine. I held up my knife, so it caught the dim yellow light.
“Your God likes blood, doesn’t It, Kent?” I said, as the man sniveled and Zane ground his cock against my ass, too eager to control himself. “If you truly want to be a good and loyal servant, I think you’d bleed for your God.”
I didn’t know if Kent even understood what I said. He was weeping and sniffling, snot and blood running down his face, shaking his head. “No...no...this isn’t — this isn’t how it’s meant to be. You wretched...wretched bitch!” Spittle flew from his lips as he looked up at me, adrenaline forcing one final fight out of him. “You can’t stop this! You...you’ll never...neverstop this!” He was breathing hard, panting as he squirmed uselessly. “The God will have you! You can’t stop it —”
“I want to fuck you over his corpse,” Zane groaned against my neck, claws digging into my hips as Kent carried on. “He’s too loud. Bleed him like a fucking pig.”
I leaned down. Kent babbled on, cursing me, his voice breaking and weakening. He looked at me with hatred, with disdain — with terror. Finally, after so long, he looked at me and was afraid. It was the expression I’d always dreamed of seeing on his face. I let the sight brand itself into my mind, covering the memory of his smile as he cut me so many years ago.
I leaned down closer, closer, until I could whisper in his ear. “All is as it should be.”
I slit his throat. I wrenched the knife deep, slicing through his skin, blood spurting out over my hand, staining my white shirt and streaking down my chest. Kent gurgled, his body jerking, his strength sapping away. He kept staring up at me, like he couldn’t look away, his curses dying on his tongue.
Zane gripped me, wrenching open the button on my trousers. He tugged them down as I stood over Kent, watching him with cold curiosity. I wasn’t sure where my mind went in those moments. It was surreal. It was beyond joy; it couldn’t be described as happiness. I wasn’t sad. I didn’t regret what I’d done.
It was satisfaction: pure, unadulterated satisfaction.
It was revenge. Cold, callous, unfeelingrevenge.
And God, it felt so good.
Zane’s fingers stroked over my clit as the life in Kent’s eyes dimmed. “You failed, Kent,” I whispered. “You failed, and your children will fail, and your followers will fail.” Zane’s cock stroked between my cheeks, his movements rough and eager, and I grinned. “You should have fucking made sure I died, Kent.”
Zane entered me in one long, hard stroke, and I moaned at the stretch. I was already wet as hell and ready for him, and I arched my hips back, taking him deep. Kent’s eyes had gone dull. The pulse of blood from his neck was slowing. Zane pressed against my back, biting my neck, then kissing the tender marks he left behind, fucking into me with primal need. I was already so on edge that every stroke had me shuddering, my breath coming in gasps.
He gripped my jaw, kissed my neck, and whispered, “I love to see my little wolf with blood on her teeth.”
I leaned my head against the stone wall, gasping as he quickened his pace. Kent lay dead beneath me, his blood going cold, but my heat was only increasing. This was what I’d waited for. This was the reason I’d lived. This was why I breathed.
