Chapter 11 Aurora #5
That’s all I fucking need.
I bite down.
His entire body locks.
There’s a single second of perfect, stunned silence.
Then—Jameson screams.
“You fucking bitch!”
That’s right, Jameson. You scream for me now. Let me drown in your pain.
He tries to shove me away, but if he pushes too hard, my teeth will shred his cock. His blood scalds my lips, metallic and alive with rage. He chokes out a raw, broken sound—nothing like the smug bastard who thought I was helpless.
His pain sings for me. A symphony of my making.
I bite down harder. He shrieks.
His blood floods my mouth. It shouldn’t taste this good. I want to drink him dry. I want to watch the life drain from his fucking eyes. But before I can, two massive hands clamp around my throat, yanking me from my delightfully violent daydream.
He howls, then goes silent—just breath hissing through his clenched teeth as his fingers dig in deeper.
“Fucking cunt! Stupid fucking bitch!” His voice cracks, high and wild. “You think this fucking saves you?! You think I won’t gut you for this?!”
He wrenches my hair, jerking my head back, but my jaw stays locked. He’s too pissed to feel it yet. Too lost in his god complex to realize his dick is fucking gone.
“Fucking let go!”
His voice is a raw snarl, each word laced with spit and fury. His fists slam into my ribs, my stomach, my face, anything to make me break.
“You ruined me!” Spit flies from his lips. “You think this changes anything? You think you’ve fucking won?”
His grip tightens, each breath hitching in manic bursts.
“I was gonna be merciful.” His grip crushes my throat. “I was gonna make you something more.” He laughs, broken and cruel. “But now, I’m gonna carve you up, piece by fucking piece. And when I’m done?”
He leans in close, breath hot and reeking.
“I’ll hand-deliver your pretty little head to Isa myself. The Disciples will see what I’ve done for them. For her. They’ll know I was the one who took the Daughter down.”
My teeth grind, scraping bone against bone. So close now. So fucking close. If I die, at least I’ll take his favorite weapon with me.
I must be smiling because Jameson growls, “Keep smiling, bitch.”
His grip tightens, and my body makes a last-ditch effort to survive.
I claw at anything I can reach. I kick, I thrash, I fight like a cornered animal.
The passenger door shudders under my sneakers. I know I’m going to die here. My body just refuses to believe it.
“That’s it. Fight for me.” His grip crushes. “Let me feel it. Every last twitch.”
My vision blurs. The dark edges crawl in.
“You think this stops me?” His fingers dig in deeper. “I’m still gonna make you mine. Just in pieces now.”
My arms won’t move. My pulse pounds sluggishly in my ears.
“You know what’s funny?” His breath is ragged, almost laughing. “They’ll look at what’s left of you and say a monster did it. But it was me. Sanctified by blood. Chosen by Light. Worthy of the kill.”
If I could move, I’d spit in his face.
But the abyss is waiting. It stretches its arms. Already pulling me under.
“Shh.” His lips brush my ear. “That’s it. Give up for me, baby girl. I’ll be here when your soul slips out. And when it does? I’ll hold what’s left down and fuck that virgin cunt until your bones remember me. They’ll bury you dripping with me.”
All lies. All fantasy. He’s too stupid to realize what’s already been torn away.
Eventually, my body relaxes, finally receiving the message that my time is up. A warm peace settles over me when I fully accept my fate. I don’t give two shits what he does with my body after I die.
When I get to the afterlife, though, I’m putting in a formal request to haunt this walking, talking, protein-slurping sack of smegma until whatever raw nerve still thinks his dick is attached screams in fear every time a ceiling fan spins too fast.
The darkness drags me under, then stops. A shape looms beyond the haze. A shadow prowling along the roof of the truck cab.
Of course, my last thoughts would be of the man who wanted to worship at my feet. The only one who ever saw me as something worth bowing to.
Ezra … Is he here? Or is this just a final hallucination? A dying mind’s last mercy?
I can’t tell what’s real anymore.
A guttural snarl rattles through the truck, too warped to be human.
Jameson goes rigid. His hands falter. Just for a second. Just long enough for fear to flicker behind his eyes. Then he snarls and clamps down harder.
Fuck, it feels good to let go.
Maybe I’ll see my mom. Maybe Gram will be waiting.
The last tentacles of peaceful blackness coil around me, gently tugging at my soul. It’s time to go. My chest aches. My body screams for air. But it’s distant now, only the echo of pain.
Something tries to anchor me. I let it slip away.
I sink into the blackness. Into the quiet. Into the nothingness.
And fuck, it’s beautiful.
Except … there’s something else. Warmth, curling through the abyss. Unseen fingers skimming over my skin. A whisper threading through the blackness, soft and unrelenting.
Pulling.
“I’ve got you, my brave little lupine.”
And then—
Nothing.