Chapter 22

CRISTIAN

22

She looked so peaceful sleeping, her face content, her chest rising and falling gently.

I sat at her desk, my gaze roaming over her body. She wore a set of clothing my brother had provided her, this time, it was some boxer briefs and tee, and I'd be lying if I didn't say she looked fine as all fuck in them. Those slender legs were draped across the bed as she cuddled her blanket, oblivious to my presence.

My new pet. She had been so wild that first night, and ever since then, she tested me, so defiant despite the situation. Just thinking about how she fought me so hard had my dick rock hard.

The wicked little thing had even stabbed me. I smirked as I touched my pec, the wound covered. She was a survivor, a fighter, someone who burned brighter than hellfire.

My smirk faltered as the image of her in the bathroom flashed through my mind, the shard of glass to her throat.

Maybe I had been too much for her, pushed her too far. But I had to know if she could handle me, the real me. The one who was so twisted and messed up, the part that had come about after that fateful day.

I rubbed the spot on my head, just within the hairline over my left temple. Everything had changed after that, my needs had grown darker, my logic less steady, my mind… chaotic.

Scarlet held the same darkness in those defiant blue eyes that I carried in my own, someone who had experienced tragedies in their life, had been fractured beyond repair, and yet we'd somehow glued ourselves back together.

I wanted to know exactly what she'd endured, what hell she'd walked through and come out the other side, bruised, battered, but not completely broken.

I hadn't seen that kind of familiar darkness since Tess.

I closed my eyes, the agony over her death flaring in my chest. She'd hurt me, done the unthinkable, and then left me alone in this world.

Sure, I had my brothers, and they did their best to understand me, but I knew they merely tolerated me, my chaotic side, the darkness that I could barely control.

Tess had embraced it, even adored that side of me, her own schizophrenic mind just as wicked as my broken one.

But she'd gone too far, those voices of hers, the ones she'd told me all about, had made her do unforgivable things.

I opened my eyes, focusing on the sleeping brunette, so full of peace. A peace that would vanish as soon as she was awake.

My little Scarlet, my wicked kitten with claws. She'd burrowed under my skin like a damn scarab, promising to unravel what was left of me.

I could feel those same things blooming, the old feelings I'd once had for Tess. But it was different with Scarlet, somehow. Her mind, although fractured in its own way, was steady. As far as I could tell, there were no voices or demons haunting her mind, urging her to do despicable things.

Things that I couldn't stop myself from doing.

I tapped my finger on the stab-wound from her.

She didn't even know it, but she was going to be mine. I'd stop at nothing now to break her, to claim her.

As soon as that blade had plunged into me, I knew I wanted her. She was not weak, she was chaos in such a beautiful form, a woman men would one day fear.

My woman.

My lip curled as I cocked my head at her.

Such a beautiful little flame, one that refused to be snuffed out. I was beating her down, taking her as I saw fit, reminding her of her place here.

The tightness returned in my chest, an unease unfamiliar to me. It niggled at me too often, especially when I took her against her will, forced myself upon her.

Was it some bizarre remorse? Guilt? I'd not felt those things for as long as I could remember, even when I'd made men scream and beg for their lives as I plucked their eyes from their skull or fed them their own balls for defying our family.

Was Scarlet making me feel things? Things that made me more human? Just who was this woman? Our files on her were depressing, but not unusual for wild women. Problematic parents, a rough childhood.

Whatever it was, the damn little minx had me entranced, fascinated by her fiery spirit.

And she was going to be mine, one way or another.