Chapter 11 Scorpio
Chapter eleven
Scorpio
Istormed through the dimly lit corridors of my compound, each footstep echoing like thunder, a testament to the fury boiling within me.
The hilt of Hunter’s knife stuck out of my thigh, but I didn’t even feel it.
All I felt was absolute rage. My men scattered like roaches, pressing themselves against the cold stone walls to avoid my wrath.
They knew better than to get in my way when I was like this—a ticking time bomb ready to explode.
The doors to my private chambers swung open with a violent crash, slamming against the walls with enough force to rattle the very foundations of the building.
I strode in, my breath coming in ragged gasps, my heart pounding like a war drum in my chest. The room was a reflection of my inner turmoil—dark, chaotic, and dripping with an aura of danger.
I ripped off my leather jacket, flinging it across the room.
It landed with a thud on the obsidian floor, a stark contrast to the pale skin of my arms. I reached down and gripped the hilt of the blade that penetrated my thigh and ripped it out with a hiss of pain.
The physical discomfort was nothing compared to the rage within me.
I hurled the knife across the room so hard it slammed into the wall, splattering my blood that covered the blade.
I wasn’t satisfied. I swiped everything off my bedside table and threw that next. It shattered on impact, splinters flying like shrapnel in a war zone. The sound echoed through my room, a perfect representation of destruction that matched the storm inside me.
How could she have bested me? Palmer Vale—the girl I had overpowered since the day I first laid eyes on her.
My mind raced back to our encounters, her defiance igniting a fire in me I couldn't extinguish.
"WHY CAN'T SHE JUST FUCKING OBEY?!" I smashed my fist against the mirror, and it cracked like my confidence—spiderwebs of glass radiating outward as fragments tumbled to the floor.
My reflection twisted in those shards, a distorted image of rage and frustration.
“Damn it!” I growled, pacing the room like a caged animal.
Every breath burned in my lungs as memories flickered through my mind—her steady gaze meeting mine with that defiant spark.
She had always been resilient, but now she had discovered her strength and was wielding it against me like a professional.
I sank onto the edge of the bed, my head pounding with a mix of rage and something far more sinister. The image of Palmer and that ghostly bastard burned in my mind like a brand. The way they looked at each other and the silent understanding that passed between them—it made my skin crawl.
"What the hell is it about him?" I muttered, clenching my fists until my knuckles turned white.
The thought of Palmer finding solace in anyone but me was unbearable.
She was mine. Mine to torment, mine to fuck.
The idea of her sharing some unspoken bond with that pathetic specter filled me with a jealousy so potent it was like acid in my veins.
I stood up abruptly, pacing the room again, my boots echoing on the cold stone floor.
The pain in my arm was a distant annoyance compared to the storm raging inside me.
I couldn't shake the image of them together—her eyes softening, his form flickering with a warmth that should have been impossible for a ghost.
"Disgusting," I spat, kicking a shard of the broken mirror across the room. It skittered along the floor, reflecting the dim light in fractured beams. "She's mine. She's always been mine."
My mind drifted back to the first time I saw her—the defiance in her eyes, the strength in her stance.
I had been drawn to her like a moth to a flame, determined to break her, to make her mine.
And now, after all this time, she was slipping through my fingers, drawn to some ghostly figure who couldn't even fuck her like a real man.
"I'll show her," I growled, my voice low and menacing. "I'll show her what real power is. What real control feels like."
I stopped pacing, my eyes landing on the whip coiled neatly on the wall. The leather was dark, almost black, stained with the blood of those who had defied me. I ran my fingers along it, feeling its rough texture and promise of pain it held.
"She needs to be reminded," I said, my voice barely above a whisper. "Reminded of who she belongs to. Reminded of the consequences of defiance."
The thought of marking her skin, of hearing her cry out in pain, sent a shiver of anticipation down my spine. I was a sadist, and I reveled in it. The more she fought, the more I wanted to break her. The more she defied me, the more I craved her submission.
"A ghost? A fucking ghost," I sneered, the word leaving a bitter taste in my mouth. "He can't protect her. He can't even touch her properly. He's nothing but a shadow, a memory. I am real. I am flesh and blood. I am the one who will make her scream."
I turned away from the whip, my mind made up.
I would find her. I would remind her of her place, of her role in my world.
And I would enjoy every second of it. The images of the two of them connecting, amplifying her power…
if I could connect with her, I'd be unstoppable.
A slow smile spread across my bloody face.
"Palmer," I said, her name a promise on my lips. "You can't hide from me forever. You can't run from what you are, from what we are." I laughed wildly. "You've figured it out, babe. Now we'll be the most powerful couple in the universe. You belong to me. And I will make sure you never forget it."
“Scorpio!” One of my men dared to enter, wide-eyed and nervous. He stopped short at the sight of chaos enveloping my quarters. “What’s going on?”
I whirled around, pointing at him with an accusing finger. “What do you think is going on? That little witch thinks she can outsmart me?” The venom dripped from each word.
His eyes widened further as he took a step back. “We can regroup—”
“Fucking worthless!” I cut him off, feeling my fury bubbling over again.
I grabbed another object—a heavy vase, this time more elegant than functional—and hurled it at the wall beside him. It exploded into pieces, shards glinting ominously under the dim light like broken promises.
“Do you understand?” I shouted at him as he flinched away from me.
“She used that bond with that ghost to disrupt my control! If she can do that…” I couldn’t finish the thought; rage constricted around my throat like a vice, but I couldn't show any sign of weakness.
Not now. So I turned my expression to stone and flipped the script entirely.
"Imagine what I'll be capable of once she's working with me, instead. I want her every movement tracked!"
The man swallowed hard, his gaze darting to the shattered remnants around us before returning to meet mine. “W-we’ll find her,” he stammered. “We have our connections.”
“Connections?” I spat out the word like poison. “What good are connections if they can’t even keep track of one little spirit witch?”
I stepped closer to the man, my boots crunching on the shattered remnants of the vase.
His breath hitched as I invaded his space, my presence alone enough to make him tremble.
I could see the fear in his eyes, the way his pupils dilated, and the pulse in his neck quickened. He was terrified, and I reveled in it.
"You're right," I said, my voice deceptively soft, like the calm before a storm. "Connections are everything." I reached out, tracing a line down his cheek with my fingertip. He flinched at the touch, but I held his gaze, pinning him in place. "And you have them, don't you?"
He nodded, his Adam's apple bobbing as he swallowed hard. "Y-yes, Scorpio. I do."
I smiled, a slow, cruel curve of my lips that promised pain and retribution. "Good. Then use them. She’s still at Haunt. I want her back." My voice was a low growl, a command that brooked no argument.
He nodded again, more vigorously this time. "I will. We’ll get her. I swear."
I leaned in, my breath hot on his ear. "You’d better. Because if you don't, you know what happens to those who fail me." I pulled back, just enough to see his face. The terror in his eyes was a beautiful sight, a testament to my power.
"I-I know," he stammered. "I won't fail you, Scorpio. I promise."
I stepped back, releasing him from my intense gaze. He sagged slightly, relief washing over him. But I wasn't done yet. I wanted to drive the point home, to ensure he understood the consequences of failure.
"Remember what happened to the last man who promised me something and didn't deliver?" I asked, my voice casual, as if we were discussing the weather.
He paled, the blood draining from his face as he remembered the way I’d used my mind control on that disappointment who’d failed me. In the end, he shot himself in both kneecaps. It was a fond memory of mine. "Y-yes," he whispered.
I nodded, satisfied. "Good. Then you know what's at stake. Now go. Find her. And bring her to me."
He turned and fled the room, his footsteps echoing down the corridor. I watched him go, a sense of satisfaction washing over me. Fear was a powerful motivator, and I knew how to wield it like a weapon.
I turned back to the chaos of my room, a slow smile spreading across my face.
Palmer thought she could outsmart me, thought she could hide from me.
But she was wrong. I would get her. And when I did, she would pay for her defiance.
She would learn the true meaning of power, of control.
And she would be mine, once and for all.