Hunter
HUNTER
I paced the room, my blood simmering with a threat that prickled under my skin. Vitto was moving against us. Fucking bastard. I knew he was a slimy sonofabitch. Selling me his daughter for 'peace' but going behind my back and trying to rally the smaller mafias against me. I yanked Marco by the arm, dragging him close, our faces inches apart. " Get the boys strapped," I growled. " Rat was right. Vitto's making a move. Let's go kill him before he steps out."
Marco nodded sharply. " They'll be ready," he assured me.
As we plotted, the sound of footsteps echoed through the hall. I turned, catching sight of Rosalind , my beautiful bride—a Thorn in name but a thorn in my fucking side. Her eyes were bloodshot, her hair a ratchet mess. Not fitting of a fucking queen.
" Jesus Christ ," I muttered under my breath. Each step she took frayed the leash on my temper. Eyeing Marco , who was well dressed in his normal black suit, I would have missed the exhausted look in his eye, but not the heavy gulp he took as he saw her. I just about snapped, watching her eyes flicker to his and a blush crest over her chest and tint her cheeks. They must have fucked. Goddamn traitors.
She reached the bottom, her gaze foggy as she refused to look at me, opting instead to look at him . I stormed over, rage coiling in my gut. I grabbed her shoulders and shook her. " You're really testing me, aren’t you? Fucking my brother? Low blow, Rosalind ," I spat at her. " Go clean yourself up and put some fucking decent clothes on. We have a meeting with the council soon. You look like a harlot. As for your… behavior, I’ll deal with that later."
Her head whipped up, and her dark eyes shot with hurt and confusion. She hissed in pain as she tentatively rubbed where I grabbed her. But I didn't care. Couldn't afford to. If she wanted to act like a child, I'd treat her like a child. My world had no place for weakness, and I sure as hell wouldn’t let hers become mine.
Blood pounded in my ears, hot and thick like the aftermath of a kill. A twinge hit me before I could stop it. I shouldn't have done that, and the thought flickered before I killed it. In fact, I'd half the mind to drag her ass upstairs and tan her hide before fucking it into oblivion.
" Back the fuck off, ," Marco's voice cut through the tension. He stepped forward, a wall of muscle and defiance between me and her.
" Or what?" I sneered, chest heaving, ready to rip into him. " You wanna throw down, or are you just itching to get under the sheets with my wife?"
His jaw clenched, the blue in his eyes flaring cold fire. We stood inches apart, two alpha beasts circling for dominance. The air crackled, electric with the promise of violence. I couldn't wait. I knew about his little crush on my bride, and I'd been itching to beat it out of him. Why the fuck do you think I made him her guard?
" Make your move." My growl was low, daring him. Every muscle tensed, ready to snap bones and spill blood—his or mine, it didn’t matter.
He stayed rooted, a silent challenge. His loyalty to her over me was clear as day. That pissed me off more.
" Fine then," I spat. " You want to shield her? Be my fucking guest. You can take the beating that would have been hers."
My knuckles found his jaw with a sickening crack, the sound reverberating through the silence like a gunshot. No cry escaped him. He took it like a man, but that wouldn't save him. Not from me. Muscle met muscle, blow for blow, my rage an inferno scorching everything in its path. Each hit a message; he was nothing but dirt under my boot. He refused to hit me back. The man has been on the receiving end of my punishment once before. It was smart not to fight it. Fuck the meeting, he needed to learn you don’t fuck with what’s mine. She needed to see the depths of what I’d do to keep her.
" Stop ! , please!" The shriek tore through the chaos, a streak of light in the pitch black of my wrath. Her form blurred into view, throwing herself over Marco . Her touch, soft against the hard lines of his bloodied face, was a fucking mockery.
" Get off him, Rosalind !" I roared; my fist was cut open and raw, but I didn't reign a blow down on her. As furious as I was, hurting the woman I loved more than I had to was a hard no.
She clung to Marco , shielding him with her frailty, her pleas turning desperate. Her tears were real, but they burned me and seared me to the core. She was mine to protect, not him.
" Please !" she screamed, voice breaking. " I'll do anything! "
Blood clouded my vision as rage flamed before subsiding. It'd do me no good to be this heated. I stared at Rosalind's crumpled form atop Marco , her body heaving with sobs.
" Feel something for him?" I growled, words barbed with suspicion as I yanked her up by the arm. Her dark eyes, wide and shimmering with tears, met mine, but she clamped her lips shut, a stubborn silence her only reply. " Did you fuck him, wife?"
" Answer me." My voice, a low rumble, didn’t betray the inferno raging within. She shrank back, sitting on the floor next to where Marco lay, not moving a muscle.
She didn't speak. Not a fucking word. Just those doe eyes staring up at me—lost, confused, or maybe just fucking terrified. It made my blood boil, the silence between us louder than the chaos that had just unfolded.
" Fuck this. Marco , you fucking dare interrupt me, and I'll string you up and bleed you out." My grip tightened on her arm, fingers digging into her flesh as I hauled her up the stairs. Each step thumped against the floor. She didn't even struggle, allowing me to drag her all the way up.
I slammed the bedroom door behind us with a force that rattled the walls. The room, once my place of peace, is now a prison, locking away the outside world. A place where I'd make her face me, where there’d be no more dodging my goddamn questions.
" Talk ," I demanded, spinning her to face me. My hands were weapons capable of harm, yet all I wanted was to peel back the layers of her defiance. I needed the truth. My God , nothing but the fear of losing her kept swirling in my mind. I wanted to love her, to have her love me, but every fucking thing I did just pushed her further away. I didn't have the skills to deal with this womanly shit. I treated her the way my father treated my mother. Harsh . Because that's how women stay in line.
She stood mute, a marble statue, her mouth a tight line of resistance. Her silence was a challenge, a sting for my already seething ego.
" Speak , or so help me..." I let the threat hang in the air. Her refusal to answer was a knife twisting in my gut. I'd really fucked this up.
" Rosalind ." It should've been sweet coming from my lips, but all that came out was anger. I grabbed her chin, forcing her gaze to meet mine, searching for a flicker of whatever she felt. But damn her; she was closed off. Her eyes looked dead as they tried to avoid my gaze.
Her breathing hitched, eyes darting around the room as if looking for an escape. There was none. Not from me. Not from the questions that needed answers. I was a man accustomed to getting what I wanted, one way or another. And right now, I wanted the truth.
My hands clenched into fists, itching for something to break, to shatter under the force of my fury. Grabbing the nearest vase, it shattered as I chucked it at the wall.
She flinched, her dark eyes wide, her lips parting as if she wanted to speak but couldn’t find the damned words.
" Talk , Goddamn it!" I snatched her arm, pulling her close enough to feel her trembling. The scent of her fear mixed with her floral perfume was a heady intoxication that fueled my rage even more. She deserved a spanking. One that would have her aching for days.
Rosalind's mouth opened and closed, her struggle written all over her beautiful face. She was a storm of emotions buried beneath clouds of confusion and terror. " I — , I don't know…" Her voice was a whisper as she trailed off.
" Shit , woman, what is it?" My grip on her tightened. " Do you want him? Is that it?" She was mine, not his, not anyone else’s. I owned her, every inch, every fucking tear she shed.
Her gaze flickered away, unable to hold mine, and that pissed me off even more. She was a puzzle I couldn't solve, wrapped in the body of a woman who had become my obsession. And fuck, how it burned .
" Answer me!" I shook her, my world narrowing down to the quiver of her lip, the silent tears that began to track down her cheeks. Those tears were a testament to my unrivaled ability to break anything good that came within my grasp.
" Please , I —" her voice broke, and the sound shredded the last bit of my control.
" Fuck !" I released her abruptly, recoiling from the raw pain that flashed across her face. The walls closed in, and the air thickened with the weight of unspoken truths and bitter lies. I turned away, raking a hand through my hair, trying to catch my breath, to catch my fucking bearings. What the hell do I do now?
" Can't even say it, can you?" I spat the words into the charged silence, the taste of bile rising in my throat. She was tearing me apart, and I hated her for it, hated her for making me feel anything beyond cold, calculating rage. Hated her for being the perfect woman, the one I never thought I'd have. The one I just broke.
I seized her chin, forcing those dark eyes to meet mine. The vulnerability there, the fear, it clawed at me. I shoved it down, down where the darkness lived, where I could drown it under layers of fury and contempt. She reached a hand out, a bridge, but I moved back a step. Couldn't stand the softness of her skin against the hardness of my shield. It was wrong, as if she didn’t belong with me. Fuck maybe she'd do better with someone like Marco . Goddamn , I'd kill a man for her, but so would he. He'd also give her everything I couldn't. But she was here; she was my wife, my charge, and fuck if I knew what to do with her.
" Say something, Rosalind . Anything ." The command came out strained, my voice betraying the snarl I intended. I paced, cornered by the walls of my own making, the need to dominate, to control, gnawing at my insides.
She just stood there, a silent statue, her lips parting but no sound escaping. And that silence screamed louder than any confession, any plea. It taunted me, challenged me, and I loathed it.
" I fucking love you, you know that? I may be an asshole, but I fucking love you," I snarled, closing the distance once more, my shadow engulfing her.
She swallowed hard, and I watched the delicate bob of her throat, her pulse racing beneath the surface. " God , you make me so..." I couldn't finish, words failing me. My control slipped; I grabbed her, my grasp bruising, desperate to shake the reality into her, to force her into submission. I crowded her, my body a weapon of intimidation, my breath a hot gust against her face .
Her eyes flickered, emotions warring within, and I just knew that whatever the fuck she was feeling would tear me apart. We stood there, locked in a battle of wills, the tension connecting us.
As she opened her mouth, her breathing finally steady, I made my choice. Whatever the fuck came from those lips wouldn't take her from me. I'd seal her in a vault before I let her tear us apart.