Chapter 10 Silas
SILAS
“Shit,” Jameson breathes, eyes bouncing between Erik at my side and my brothers behind me. His gaze widens as he scans my tattoos, finding the coiled serpent at the base of my throat. “You’re them, aren’t you?”
“I don’t give a fuck who they are,” Mark retorts, licking his lips as his eyes drag down Evie’s body. “He put hands on me and interrupted what was bound to be a memorable evening. That’s a challenge of honor, and I’m not one to back down from a fight.”
“Please,” Jameson says, shaking his head as he steps forward, hands raised. “He’s from out of town, visiting from Vegas. My cousin has no idea what he’s saying.”
“Like hell I don’t,” Mark cuts in, shoving Jameson back.
“Shut the fuck up,” Jameson hisses beneath his breath. “Or you’re going to get us both killed.”
“Fucking pussy,” Mark spits, shoving Jameson again before fixing his filthy gaze on my little fox. “Let’s go, sweetheart. I’ll have your knees trembling and my name rolling off your lips in minutes.”
The snap of bone echoes against the narrow walls of the alley as my fist crashes into his face.
Pain blares across my knuckles, the sweet ache sending a burst of adrenaline through my veins, reminding me I’m alive.
My heart pounds as I roll out my shoulders, relishing the way his arrogant smirk is wiped cleaned, delighting in the way his eyes roll back and his body crumples to the piss-covered ground.
There’s a squeak of alarmed panic from behind me, and my eyes snap to her. To Evie. Her pouty lips are parted, brows lifted, and eyes wide as she stares down at Mark—the pathetic, roided-up smudge who tried to kiss her. And she’s staring at his unconscious form with concern.
“Is—is he…”
“He’s not dead,” I growl. Though, now that she’s mentioned it… “Yet.”
“Fuck.” Jameson seems to thaw from whatever held him in place. Without a backward glance, he turns, leaving his cousin at the mercy of the Seven, fleeing the alley toward the well-lit street in the distance.
“Noctis,” I say, watching Jameson get closer to escape.
“On it,” he promises, a wicked gleam in his eyes as he starts after his prey.
“This is your fault,” Tempest seethes, her words dripping with loathing. I expect her venom to be directed at me, but when I look up, I find Erik pinned beneath her glare. “I can fuck whoever I want.”
“Not when you’re drunk,” Erik counters, fire blazing in his eyes.
“We had two shots an hour ago,” Tempest snaps, getting in his face.
Normally, I’d separate the two of them, but right now, I can’t help being grateful Erik’s bullshit excuses have Tempest distracted. Mavros is standing guard at the club’s door, just in case Mark and Jameson had back-up, leaving my little fox and me alone.
As if sensing my intentions, Evie stiffens, her eyes snapping up to meet mine as I stalk toward her. Her plump bottom lip is drawn into her mouth again, teeth biting the tender flesh as her chest heaves. She takes a step back, then another, until her heels hit the wall behind her.
“Scared, little fox?”
“Should I be?” Evie swallows, lifting her chin even as her legs tremble.
“Yes,” I hiss. My fingertips grip the edges of her jaw, wrapping around her neck with the lightest pressure.
Her breathing hitches as I hold her there, not hurting, but stripping control from her all the same.
I wait for the tart spike of fear, for the protest that will have Tempest rounding on me, demanding I leave—but Evie does neither.
She swallows, her throat bobbing beneath my fingers as her eyes dip to my mouth. Her pupils expand, that tongue of hers flicking out to lick her lips. A low groan builds in my chest.
“Careful,” I warn, feeling her flickering pulse thrum in the soft curve of her neck. “If you keep teasing me like that, I’m going to shove up that little dress of yours and show you what it means to be mine.”
There’s the flicker of fear I’ve been expecting. My lips twitch into a cruel mock of a grin as I study the way her pale cheeks flame red. Unable to help myself, I tighten my grip, forcing her chin up further.
“Would you like that, Evie? To be owned. Cherished. To have me on my knees with my lips pressed to your pussy—licking, sucking, worshipping—until you forget to be afraid?”
Her eyes are wide, full lips parted—and fuck me, because she’s too good.
I’ve thought it before, but staring at her now, eyes glazed and my fingers around her throat, I see how full of light she is.
Of life. But the most dangerous part is that my little fox has been caged for far too long.
There’s a hunger in her, a burning curiosity that has me leaning in when I should be pulling away.
“Do you want me to make this sweet little cunt of yours bleed all over my cock, Evie?” My mouth grazes her ear, and I inhale deeply, filling my lungs with hints of wildflowers and rain and a tinge of alcohol. With the heady scent of her, loving the way she trembles. “Afraid yet, little fox?”
“Yes,” Evie admits, her throat bobbing under my palm. And then she leans into me, the smallest tilt of her mouth inching closer, begging me to claim her lips with mine. To erase all traces of Mark—the pathetic, unconscious sack currently working off a concussion at our feet—who dared to touch her.
I shouldn’t. Pain is the only thing I can offer her. She stands still as I loosen my grip, something too close to disappointment flashing up at me, but it’s for her own good. “You don’t know what you’re getting into.”
“Don’t I?” she challenges. I stare at her then, looking past the light makeup smeared beneath her eyes, ignoring the sliver cross at her throat, and peer beyond what everyone else sees.
Because there’s not just na?ve curiosity—but pain.
Vengeance. A thirst for the twisted and dark.
All things I’ll only make worse. But then a low groan sounds from the ground as the piece of shit regains consciousness.
And I break.
My mouth slams into hers, hungry and raw.
The onslaught pulls a gasp from her, and I seize her surprise, exploiting the moment as I thrust my tongue inside, sweeping the length of her mouth as my fingers squeeze, tilting her jaw up for me.
Her sweet taste, the feel of her full lips, her small gasps and needy sounds spur me on.
I press my knee between her thighs, pinning her to the wall.
She’s powerless like this. At the mercy of a merciless monster. Frozen as I take what I want. Her shock gives way in moments, and surely—surely—this is when she pushes me away. When she sees me and runs. I expect that.
What I don’t anticipate is Evie’s supple body melting into mine—like an angel yielding control to a demon. Fuck, if I don’t want to reward her for being such a good girl.
I pull back, my tongue licking that sensitive spot above her racing pulse before my nose drags up the length of her neck.
A shiver rakes down her spine as the warmth of my breath heats the shell of her ear, teasing my little temptress.
I whisper my threat against her cheek as if speaking to a lover, soft enough to make a shiver run down her spine.
“If he ever touches you again, I’ll kill him.”
Evie draws in a sharp breath, and I withdraw completely.
Her nipples are hard, pressing through the black fabric, begging for my attention.
The hem of her dress is still hiked up from the position I had her in, and there’s no doubt in my mind that if I lift her dress—even an inch—I’ll find her soaked with need.
Her thighs clench as she tugs the dress back into place, stepping into my shadow and away from Mark. A warmth spreads through me as Evie crouches at my back, blooming in my chest at knowing she feels safer with me than him. I turn, brushing back a piece of wine-colored hair from her cheek.
“Mavros,” I call, keeping my eyes locked on Evie’s rosy cheeks and swollen lips. “Drop him at the hospital. I’m feeling gracious tonight.”