Chapter 3
ADA
That second bottle of champagne was kicking in, causing a happy mirage to settle over the cold, ancient blocks as we weaved through endless corridors.
Just like me, Felicity had given in to my roommate’s coercion, now dressed in skintight jeans, paired with a corset that pushed her tits up to the sky.
Sure, she tried to complain, but Florence just clucked and said she looked hot, which I was in full agreement with.
I felt sorry for the poor idiots who would try to get in her pants.
“Come on, demon girl,” Florence cooed. “Midnight’s approaching, and I want to find the lucky man I’m gonna take to heaven.”
I tried to grumble, but my tipsy ass gave a giggle instead. “Not in our room, you’re not, or I really will show you how much of a devil I can be.”
Felicity chuckled, and Florence poked her tongue out. “Spoilsport.”
As we rounded the last corner, a vibrant forest stretched out before us. The silhouettes of towering trees danced with grotesque shadows. I saw a raging bonfire in the distance.
Bodies swarmed the woodland as we pushed our way through, the high moon illuminating a clear path as the beats of music vibrated the ground.
As we neared the heat of the fire, a sinister feeling had goose bumps chasing down my spine as my instincts ticked over with intensity. My eyes bounced over the party, clocking each person, each face, trying to identify the threat.
It didn’t take long to find the cause. My breath hitched in my throat. All manner of thought and reason evaporated at the mere sight of him.
He was shirtless, wearing a pair of black jeans and combat boots, complete with a skeleton mask that hid the top half of his face. It didn’t matter. I’d recognise those penetrating, all-consuming grey eyes anywhere.
I averted my gaze from his ravished chest that proudly displayed a map of both old and new scars. Nostalgia abruptly swept me back in time—moments where I traced those lines or patched up those wounds myself.
He was my obsession.
My very own monster.
My stepbrother, Greyson Carmichael.
He was a destroyer of souls—proven by the unencumbered way he had used and abused mine, before discarding the remains like they weren’t given to him for safekeeping.
I hated him, despised his very existence. And yet, he still owned me in a way no one else ever would.
Unwanted desire and self-loathing clashed through me as his head tilted ever so slightly to the side. His gaze leisurely tracked up and down my frame before his cocky signature smirk made an appearance.
I wanted to slice it from his fucking face. He’s not even supposed to be here.
Then the arrogant asshole raised two fingers and gestured for me to go to him, like I was his well-trained bitch. As if I were the same girl I had been three years before.
My lips lifted into a sneer, the degrading beckoning sending my pulse skyrocketing.
And what made it worse? Further back in the brush stood Annika, surrounded by her posse of like-minded idiots, no doubt.
She wore thick satin gloves that stretched all the way up to her elbows, the elegant aesthetic a complete contrast with her hideous nature.
She was my archnemesis—the one who stole everything from me.
As if she could sense my undivided focus, her eyes swung to mine and got caught.
I didn’t look away, wishing my stare alone would reduce her to ash.
She read the silent exchange as if I’d threatened her point-blank, but her reaction surprised me.
Annika’s expression flickered with fear before she skirted away, swiftly turning her back.
Despite her weak retort, Fury remained my best friend, and I was willing to use her to my advantage.
Florence already had two boys hanging off her.
A charming blonde was glued to her side, while the dark-haired one closest to me eyed my body with appreciation.
When he caught me looking, he didn’t abate.
Boosted with liquid courage, he stepped closer, slipping a hand over my hip to settle over my ass.
“Where did you come from, gorgeous?”
“Your nightmares.”
Without hesitation, I slipped my hands around his neck and pressed my mouth to his. He opened immediately, using his tongue and teeth in all the wrong ways.
The kiss was terrible, but that didn’t matter.
As he tracked his lips down my neck, I opened my eyes and let my gaze carry over his shoulder to clash with penetrating steel grey. Greyson was frozen, his muscles taut, as if he was about to snap.
Break for me, asshole. Fucking break into a million pieces.
The need to send him over the edge made me giddy with anticipation. In that one stare, I told him everything.
I’ll do whatever I want. Fuck whoever I want. Destroy the world if I want.
The moron glued to my front began to lick along my collarbone, his groan thick with lust as I raised one hand to roam through his hair.
Despite the bonfire, Greyson was quivering, rage taking over his body as triumph took over mine.
I wasn’t some innocent girl with unrealistic dreams of youth anymore. Those delusions were broken on my eighteenth birthday. Now, at twenty-one, I was a formidable opponent and a serious threat to his sanity. And I had just pronounced a declaration of war.
My mouth lifted into a mocking sneer as I raised a middle finger and mouthed, “Fuck you.”
I could have sworn he glitched. And it was fucking ravishing to witness—until I sensed a thick sense of peril pummelling towards me.
Twisting hard, I pulled on the random guy’s roots and shoved him away. He had fulfilled his purpose.
Florence’s low whistle brought me back to reality. “Holy. Shit. I don’t know who you are to Greyson Carmichael, but if looks could kill, he’d bend you over and fuck you to death.”
As if her words breathed life into the demon himself, Greyson downed the rest of his beer and threw the bottle into the fire before taking a step in my direction.
Oop. He decided to pick up the gauntlet I had unceremoniously dumped at his feet and was ready for battle.
That was when I turned my back on the only boy I’d ever loved…and sprinted for my goddamn life.