Chapter Nine #2
Not just watching. Observing. Like he’s cataloging every move I make, every breath I take, every moment my guard drops.
“Okay,” Hollywood says after I successfully flip Scout onto his ass for the third time. “I think that’s enough for today. You did good, Tessa. Real good.”
Pride swells in my chest. “Thanks.”
“One more thing, though.” He exchanges a look with Scout. “Vex, you want to show her the real shit?”
Vex’s jaw tightens. “She’s not ready for that.”
“The hell I’m not,” I snap before I can stop myself.
His eyes find mine, and there’s conflict there. Concern. Fear. But underneath it all is something darker. Something hungry.
“Fine,” he says. “But we do this my way.”
Hollywood and Scout back off, giving us space. The other brothers who were watching drift away, leaving just Vex and me on the mat.
“Come at me,” Vex says.
I blink. “What?”
“You heard me. Attack me. However you want. Use everything Scout just taught you.”
This feels like a terrible idea.
But I’m also too angry and wired to back down.
So, I lunge.
Vex catches me effortlessly, one hand wrapping around my wrist, the other going to my waist. He spins me around and pins me against his chest, my back to his front, my arm twisted—not painfully, but enough so I can’t move.
“Too slow,” he murmurs against my ear. “And too predictable. Try again.”
He releases me, and I spin, trying a different approach. Same result. He’s faster, stronger, and reading my moves before I even make them.
By the fourth attempt, I’m panting and frustrated and so turned on I can barely think straight.
“This isn’t fair,” I gasp as he pins me again, my back against his chest, his arm around my waist holding me immobile. “You’re a vampire. You’re always going to be faster.”
“Exactly.” His voice is dark, dangerous. “Which is why you need to be smarter. Stop trying to overpower me. You can’t. Use what you have.”
“And what do I have?”
“Your brain. Your instincts.” His hand slides up, fingers wrapping gently around my throat—not squeezing, just resting there. “And me. Because when something comes for you, I’ll be there. But you need to be able to hold your own long enough for me to reach you.”
His thumb strokes the pulse point in my neck, and I shudder.
“Try again,” he says. “But this time, think like prey that refuses to die.”
He releases me, and this time, when I turn, something inside me shifts.
I’m done being scared.
I’m done being a victim.
When I move, it’s not with trained precision. It’s with raw fury. I go low, sweeping his legs—which doesn’t work because he’s too fast, but it throws him off balance just enough that when I follow through with a strike to his ribs, I actually land it.
He grunts, eyes flashing white, and suddenly we’re really fighting.
Not sparring. Fighting.
He comes at me faster, harder, and I meet him blow for blow. He’s still pulling his punches, I can tell, but he’s not treating me like I’m fragile anymore. Every time I fall, I get back up. Every time he pins me, I twist and fight until he has to work to keep me down.
And somewhere in the middle of it all, I realize I’m laughing.
Not from humor. From exhilaration.
From the sheer, primal joy of refusing to quit.
Vex realizes it too. His eyes go from white to completely black, pupils disappearing entirely, and the smile that curves his lips is pure predator.
“There she is,” he growls.
Then he’s on me, faster than I can track, and we’re on the ground. Him on top, pinning my wrists above my head, his body covering mine completely. We’re both breathing hard, both flushed with adrenaline, and the air between us crackles with something that has nothing to do with fighting.
“Say it,” he demands, his voice barely human.
“Say what?”
“That you’re done running. That you’re going to fight. That you’re not going to let that thing take you without making it bleed for every inch.”
My chest heaves, and I stare up at him, at this monster who’s become the only thing I trust, and something inside me breaks open.
“I’m done running,” I say, the words fierce and final. “I’m going to fight. And if that thing wants me, it’s going to have to rip me away from you first.”
His eyes close, and for a moment, he looks like he’s in pain. Then he leans down and presses his forehead to mine.
“Good,” he whispers. “Because I’m not letting you go. Ever.”
A throat clears from somewhere behind us.
“As touching as this is,” Hollywood says, sounding thoroughly amused, “maybe we could move this somewhere more private?”
Vex pulls back, helping me to my feet, and I realize we have an audience. Half the club is standing around, watching us with varying expressions of amusement, respect, and in Rooster’s case, barely concealed hostility.
But I don’t care.
Because for the first time since this nightmare started, I feel like I have some control. Like I’m not a victim waiting to be saved.
“Same time tomorrow?” Scout asks, grinning.
“Definitely,” I say.
Hollywood claps me on the shoulder. “You did good, Monroe. Real good. The boys are starting to see it too.”
“See what?”
“That you’re one of us now.” He winks. “Whether you like it or not.”
As he walks away, I turn to Vex, who’s watching me with an intensity that makes my skin prickle.
“What?” I ask.
“Your scent changed,” he says quietly.
“My... what?”
“When you were fighting. When you decided to stop being prey.” His eyes search mine. “You stopped smelling like fear. You started smelling like fury. Like fire.”
“Is that good?”
“It’s perfect.” He steps closer, lowering his voice so only I can hear. “Because the thing in the dark? It feeds on fear. And you just stopped giving it what it wants.”
A chill runs down my spine, but it’s not from fear.
It’s from anticipation.
Because he’s right.
I’m done being afraid.
And when the Khorvath comes for me again, it’s going to find out exactly what happens when you mark the wrong woman.