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Azrael’s eyes seem to almost glow in the sunlight as he gazes upon me, and for a moment, I find myself wondering if it could be true. If he could be descended from angels. After all, they said the devil was the most beautiful of his kind.
“And what about me, Willow?” His fingers brush over my cheek, sending a cascade of sparks through my nerve endings. “Am I a vengeful disciple?”
At that word, a visible shudder moves over me, and his eyes narrow in question as his thumb comes to rest on my chin, tipping it up.
“Well?” he demands.
“I suppose you’ll reveal the answer to me in due time.” I swallow, recalling Salomé’s words, which had felt like a threat. “Will you pave your own way or follow the path that’s been dictated for you?”
His eyes flash, and I barely have time to react before he kisses me roughly, tugging at my bottom lip with his teeth and smearing my lipstick. I imagine he’s been thinking about doing this all day, judging by the ferocity of it. Just as I’m relaxing into him, parting my lips and offering myself for devourment, he stops cold.
“I’ll tell you what.” His fingers move to the knot of my cloak, untying it and slipping it from my shoulders, the red material pooling on the ground behind me. “I’ll be a good sport. We can roll the dice. I’m always up for a challenge.”
I don’t know what he means, but the rough edge in his voice makes my thighs clench together in anticipation.
“And the best part is you get to decide.” He dips his head, the warmth of his breath fluttering over my ear.
“How?” I croak.
“I’ll give you a head start. If I capture you, then you get to worship me like a god. If I don’t, then I’ll be the monster forever chasing after you.”
My chest heaves, my pulse skyrocketing as he grabs a fistful of hair and wrenches my head back, his lips brushing against my ear.
“Run, Little Witch, while you still can.”
His words may have well been the sound of a starting pistol because that was what they sounded like in my head. The moment he frees me from his grasp, instinct takes over, and I dart toward the woods.
I don’t know where I’m going, but I weave my way through the trees, taking myself off the beaten path. Branches and leaves crunch beneath my boots so loudly that they sound like echoes all around me. I know without a doubt he will catch me, and part of me anticipates it. But the other part of me, the Wildblood in my DNA, anticipates an escape from my shackles just as much.
The two halves of me are at war as my blood thrums inside my veins, my skin flushes, and the wind bites against my face. Though the trees are vast, I suspect Azrael has tracking capabilities that far exceed my hiding skills. But that’s the point, isn’t it? It isn’t a question of my inevitable capture.
It’s the thrill of the chase for him.
I run until my lungs burn and my legs feel like they will give out beneath me, and when I stop to catch my breath, I listen. I don’t hear him. I don’t hear a sound around me except for those of the forest: the birds, the breeze, and the quiet stillness that exists here.
My eyes dart around, seeking shelter, when I spot the perimeter fence in the distance. It’s a stone wall, and though it will be a challenge to climb, a thrill courses through me at the idea of crossing that barrier.
I head in that direction, pausing occasionally to hide behind a tree and listen for my hunter. And after a while, I begin to wonder if he’s even giving chase. It’s too peaceful. Too quiet. I don’t trust the silence, but it doesn’t alter my course.
When I finally reach the twelve-foot stone wall, I swallow at the enormity of it. Either I’m going to break something, or I’m going to pull off a miracle. Never one to let fear stop me, I decide to go for it. The first stone I set my foot upon feels sturdy enough, and it gives me the confidence to keep going. I don’t look down, and I settle into a rhythm of finding solid ledges to balance on my ascent.
The breeze caresses my skin as I work my way up, followed by an unexpected chill. It’s a warm afternoon, so I know it can only mean one thing.
There’s a predator in my midst.
Before I even have time to glance back, I feel his fingers wrapping around my ankle, tugging.
I fall back into his arms with a shriek, my heart slamming against my chest as I meet his hungry gaze.
“Caught you.” He says the words so smugly it makes me want to scream. Because I wanted to win. At least… for a little while.
