32. CHAPTER 31—ANTONIO
CHAPTER 31—ANTONIO
" H ow will you do it?" I press, but she just stares at me - confusion dancing with something that looks too much like guilt in those eyes that haunt my dreams.
And fuck if I don't want to kiss her again, to taste that guilt on her tongue. To make her forget whatever poison her father's planning.
My side screams where Henrik's blade tried to write my ending, but that pain's nothing compared to the hunger clawing through my veins. Raw need that doesn't care about plots or plans or the fact that she might be here to kill me. All that matters is making her understand - she's mine. Has been since before flames rewrote our story.
I drag her back to me, rough enough to prove I'm not dead yet. Her honeysuckle scent hits like expensive whiskey, like memories I can't burn away. No more games, no more pretty lies between us. Just this - my mouth claiming hers like territory, my tongue demanding answers she won't speak. She tastes like danger and desire, like every dark thought that kept me alive through fire.
When she moans into my mouth, something primitive roars to life inside me. Beast recognizing prey, or maybe recognizing its match. Because even if she's here to kill me, even if this is just another performance, that sound is real.
As real as the scars that mark us both.
My hands find skin beneath silk, soft enough to make my callused fingers feel like weapons. But she yields to my touch like she was made for it. When I bite her lip, she doesn't fight - she surrenders, head falling back to bare her throat. An offering I claim with teeth and tongue, marking territory everyone else just borrows.
"Feel what you do to me?" My voice comes out like gravel and sin against her pulse. "How fucking hard I am for you?" Truth burns between us like acid, like need too raw to hide.
She's straddling me now, every shift of her body sending fire through my veins. The sound she makes - half plea, half surrender - drives me wild. This is her power, her poison: making me forget about revenge, about scars, about everything but the way she moves against me.
I'm about to flip her underneath me, show her exactly who she belongs to, when Cerberus' bark shatters the moment. Reality crashes back like cold water, like remembered betrayal.
The world outside still exists.
The game still needs playing.
But god, her taste lingers on my tongue like sweet violence.
For one heartbeat, I'm tempted to ignore everything but her body against mine. Send her back to Daddy dearest with my marks on her skin, proof that his perfect princess belongs to the Beast now.
But I wait. Because this isn't just about claiming flesh - it's about breaking walls, about making her surrender more than just her body.
"You didn't answer me," I growl, watching color flood her cheeks. That scar peeking through her shirt makes my fingers itch - what stories has she collected while I was burning my way back to her? I brush her cheek with my lips and whisper in her ear, "How. Are. You. Going. To. Murder. Me?"
And then I lean back, watching her again.
Her lips press together, and something shifts - that fire I kindled turning to ash. Is that a tear tracking down her face? She turns away, sliding off my lap, and something in my chest tightens like a fist.
"I don't know." Her whisper carries defeat when she faces me again, eyes swimming with a sadness that shouldn't twist in my gut like it does. "I'm another piece in your game. A pawn for everyone to move."
"Yes." The lie tastes like copper on my tongue. "But don't play innocent, Bella." I capture her hand, press her fingers to the ruin of my face. She doesn't flinch from the scarred flesh - instead, something soft crosses her features that makes me grip her wrist harder. "You helped create this monster."
"I didn't." Her whisper breaks like glass, like promises. Her fingers find my scar again, the touch so gentle it burns worse than flame ever did. "I didn't."
"Lie to yourself, not to me."
Cerberus whines low, his eyes moving between us like he can't decide who needs protection.
"I didn't... I..." She's searching for words, for memories, for whatever version of truth lets her sleep at night.
Every part of me that wants her wars with my mother's ghost. Isabella isn't just the girl who made my blood sing - she's the reason it runs cold now. I want to break her, to make her feel every scar she helped create. But Naomi? She's innocent in this war. But Isabella doesn’t need to know that.
"Keep lying to yourself if you want. And we’ll see about your friends." I let ice coat my next words. "But you tell your father this - if I die, his empire burns with me."