Chapter 4
GREYSON
Twenty-two years old…
I clocked her before she even breached the tree line. It was always there, an unspoken energy stretching between us.
I could not resist her any more than the earth could stop spinning.
We were drawn together, our connection enduring, our reliance inevitable.
I owned her as much as she owned me. And I fucking hated her for it.
My little rabbit was strong. But I was stronger. I knew she was arriving that day, and it took everything within me not to track Ada down and make her submit—purely for the fact that she had left me behind.
Ever since she had escaped to that all-girls boarding school, I fucking craved her surrender. I needed her compliance like it was the very oxygen I required to satiate the inflation of my lungs.
And finally, after three torturous years, there she stood—a vision in black, with her pointed demon horns that perfectly complemented my cold, dark aura.
That’s why we belonged together.
She was mine…Would always be mine.
So, when she dangled that dangerous bait in front of me, what other choice did I have but to take chase?
Ada let some low-grade shifter defile her body, allowing his lips to contaminate her smooth, unblemished skin.
I had been too long without her. I was keyed up and on the verge of snapping when Triston’s voice cut through my bloodthirsty thoughts.
“Fuck, she’s sexy. Is that your—”
On instinct, my hand whipped out to clench around his throat, cutting off his words. “Shut the fuck up. Speak on her again and you’ll lose your tongue.”
My best friend raised his hands. Mischief dancing in his indigo eyes that shone behind a skull mask that matched my own.
“My bad, bro.”
I thrust him away as he chuckled. After four years of attending Bartholomew, the moron was lucky I hadn’t killed him yet.
“Stay away,” I snarled before I charged around the fire.
Ada had disappeared into the bushland, while her latest boy toy, the shit-talker, Balor, remained completely dumbfounded by her sudden departure. I took advantage and pitched a solid fist into his gut.
He folded forward, arms circling his abdomen in protection. I ripped on his hair, pulling his head back to make direct eye contact.
“I’ll deal with you later,” I said, my voice low and threatening. His only reply was a soft apology. He knew who the fuck I was.
A feminine giggle sounded from behind, like the sweet innocent sound of church bells. Which was a blatant lie. Fucking Florence.
She was a pest, always in everyone’s business. However, she was also untouchable, claimed by my manwhore of a best friend—which she so fervently denied, as shown by the ugly fucker hanging off her arm.
“Carmichael,” she said in acknowledgement, sipping her wine with a conniving grin.
“Don’t go back to your room tonight, Menace. It’s occupied.”
She pitched a brow. “By whom? The devil?”
“Yes,” I confirmed.
“You need to catch her first, Greyson. Happy hunting.”
Adrenaline spiked my bloodstream at the inevitable pursuit. I was a predator, more than ready to trap and consume the most delicious prey known to mankind.
Ada had turned her back on me. The feral beast I kept caged was clawing at my insides to get out.
I hummed, checking my watch.
Three. Two. One.
And as if fate heard my call, the bonfire at my back suddenly bellowed with force. Raucous flames erupted up to the skies, screams echoing through the night.
Chaos ensued, students scattering in search of safety—the perfect starter pistol to initiate my hunt.
I’d given Ada a generous one-minute head start, and time was up. No one could deny that I was anything but a gentleman.
Run, little rabbit, run. The big, bad wolf is coming for you.
I raced through the foliage at high speed, stray branches catching on my bare chest and arms, leaving fresh grazes and ruby red staining my skin.
Fuck, I live for this shit.
Who needed drugs when I had that.
The chase made me high, and the pain had me hard. My cock strained against my jeans with the knowledge of her being so close but just out of reach.
We had played that game before. In the Carmichael Mansion—which had been just as thrilling and addictive.
Utter need consumed my body as memories barraged my mind.
Ada’s heels clicking on the polished marble floors…The girlish squeals as I catch her in the dark…Her whimpers that I smother with my mouth…Her wet flesh as I part her for the first time…The warmth of her blood running down my thighs…
Fuck.
The aftermath of that fateful night had me experiencing the most potent level of euphoria…quickly followed by loss and lies when Ada disappeared with the rising sun. In the gaps of her absence, resentment grew, and bitterness became my closest companion.
Familiar rage swept through me as I tallied all the time we had missed due to her own selfishness.
I need her now, yesterday, and every day before.
Mine.
My pace increased with renewed purpose, her black hair gleaming in the distance, leading the way ahead.
She disappeared into the graveyard that edged parallel to the forest. Ada wanted to dance with the dead. And I was more than happy to play the devil.