Chapter 28
Here I was thinking Thorne was the one slipping between her sheets. What a joke. He crowns her his banshee, binds her to him in power and then what? Keeps his distance as if he’s a priest. Pathetic. If he won’t take what he’s claimed, I will.
Plus, this new development makes everything easier. I’ll keep a firm grip on her sweet handsome human until she comes crawling to me, desperate to save him and when she does, I’ll be waiting.
I didn’t expect to be hauling a prisoner along with me, and now the problem’s gnawing at me, where the hell do I stash him?
This side of the veil or mine? Both come with risks I don’t have time to weigh.
Fuck! I’ve got to stop letting impulse drive my hands before my head catches up.
I can admit it, I let my anger take the reins, and now I’m paying for it.
He’s not bad on the eyes, for a human, pretty enough that the idea of keeping him as a pet, slithers through my mind.
I can almost picture him chained, obedient.
Him breaking piece by piece under my hand.
The thought tastes sweet, but I know it’s a luxury I can’t afford.
Faigheann peataí faoi deara. (Pets get noticed.)
No, I need him for leverage. He’s the key to prying that power.
Thorne’s pathetic excuse for a banshee has a weakness, and it’s here with me, bound and breathing.
I could smell her desire for him from a mile away, it was impossible to miss.
That kind of hunger is a weapon, and I plan to use it until she bleeds.
It took longer than I wanted but I managed to drag him through the veil with me.
Something strange happened on the way. He started flickering, like a dying lightbulb fighting to stay alive.
Only it wasn't weakness. No… it felt wrong, familiar, as though this side knew him, welcomed him. The kind of welcome that’s whispered in blood and bone, as if the place had been waiting for him all along.
I brushed it off, I haven’t got time for shite like that. I’m on a mission. One that ends with that banshee bitch on her knees, crawling. Even if I have to break every bone in her body to get her there. I’ll rip the wail from her throat and make her choke on it before I’m done.
I’ve locked her pretty human in an old family tomb, with no light, just damp air, and the stink of the dead for company. I’ll have to remember to water and feed him, at least enough to keep him breathing. Can’t have him rot before I’m done using him.
It’s a shame it’s come to this. I blame Thorne.
If he’d just handed over what’s rightfully mine instead of gifting it to that feeble little bitch, we wouldn’t be here, would we?
No, he had to make it a game. Now I’ll make sure we both play it my way.
Every heartbeat that banshee spends wondering where he is, will be a dagger twisting deeper into her chest. By the time I finally summon her, she will be trembling and broken, willing to give up everything just to see him alive again.
(Gach braon deireanach dá dóchas, brúfaidh agus dófaidh mé.) Every last drop of her hope, I will crush and burn.