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I stared at the ruined bed. That’s exactly what Hale was…a beast…a monster.
Only now, he’d just created a new breed of monsters just like him. Ones who’ll hunt him down.
And I was one of them.
I unfurled my fists, letting the soft comforter fall to the floor before I turned away and headed to the bathroom. A numbness moved in. Not cold. Not anything. Still, that blistering burn stayed in the back of my throat.
The bathroom filled with the hiss as I turned on the water, then slowly undressed. By the time I stepped into the shower, I’d lost all sense of myself.
I couldn’t feel the cloth as I dragged it across my skin. Nor could I feel the heat that made my skin glow bright red. I tilted my head back, losing myself in the robotic movements as I washed my hair, then conditioned and rinsed.
You’re like that other fucking bitch, aren’t you?
The words echoed as I stepped out and grabbed the towel, drying myself with slow mechanical movements before I placed it back onto the railing. Sleep…that’s what I needed. Sleep, then I’d go again. We’d start somewhere, anywhere…
Movement came from the doorway as I turned toward the bed. Carven neared, his hair glistening from the shower, a towel wrapped around his waist. Those blue eyes were almost black as he yanked the edge of the towel, letting it drop to the floor.
A flicker of familiarity fluttered inside me as he stepped close. His hands slid along me, his fingers finding every sting and ache as he pulled me against him.
“I need to fuck you,” he murmured. “I need to feel…something.”
Something other than rage.
I knew that hunger well.
One slow nod and I lowered myself to the bare bed and slid backwards, then lifted my feet to the edge of the mattress and parted my knees. I needed this as much as he did. He stared hungrily as he crawled along the bed. His hand slid to the inside of my thigh and pushed, opening my legs wider.
There was no softness here.
No time to be gentle.
Just two fingers sliding down my pussy before they shoved in deep. “You wish this was him?” He fucked me, making me squirm.
I shook my head. “No.”
There was a twitch in the corner of his eye before he pulled out, grabbed me around the waist, and flipped me over. My palms landed hard against the mattress, my nails stung as I clenched. This wasn’t the Carven I knew. This was the old him, the one who didn’t care. The one who wanted me to hurt, just like he was hurting. I didn’t fight as his hands gripped my waist and yanked me backwards against him.
That flutter pushed through all the rage trapped inside me.
“I love you,” I whispered.
He stilled, that cruel grip easing around my waist.
Then there was nothing. No movement, no fucking, and no pain.
I flinched at the slow slide of his hand down my spine before he cupped my ass. “I’m sorry,” he murmured. “You deserve better than that.”
I turned around, finding those darkened eyes filled with desperation, and that flutter in my chest rose once more. My pulse sped at the sight, causing me to reach out and take his hand. My fingers curled around his and cupped it to my cheek. “You don’t have to be sorry, Carven. I’m here, any way you need. You want to use me, then use me.”
He scowled, then shook his head. “That’s the thing…I don’t. But I can’t…I can’t find my way. I can’t feel anything other than…”
I lowered his hand and pushed upwards as purpose filled me. I could fight. I could kill. I knew that…but this…this is what they needed most of all.
I was their anchor in this violent, terrifying storm.
It was his cheek I cupped as I rose on the bed. “Then let me show you.”
He never moved when I leaned close, just closed his eyes as I kissed him. He smelled of violence and rage. The smell of gunpowder clung to his body as though he were made of it. I guided his hand to my breast and gently kneaded.
