Ten Kassen #2
Her desire for the breakfast I’d offered made possession flash through my heart. It silenced my hate just for a second, and with a quick snatch, I swapped her bread for mine.
I did it automatically.
Some long-dead chivalry raising its head despite my current lack of social skills.
Her head snapped up, long blond hair slipping over her shoulder.
And that was all it fucking took.
A single strand of hair.
A simple quirk of attention. Her eyes on me. Her awareness on me. Her heat so close. Her body so near.
Shit.
My cock swelled and pressed against my slacks, switching my starvation once again to her. A quaking desperation cracked my bones. I needed to shove the food away, strip her down, and wrestle her to the floor.
I’d stared at her last night, searching for tricks and lies. I’d been too focused on survival to see her for what she truly was.
But I saw now.
I saw her.
A woman.
A woman who stunned me fucking breathless with beauty I’d refused to see. Either my eyes were unused to seeing anything but my river-cast reflection or I’d forgotten what females looked like because I swore on the final shreds of my self-control that she was the most beautiful girl I’d ever seen.
Leaf-scattered hair, big green and brown swirling eyes, pink lips, dirt-smudged cheeks, and a body that wasn’t feeble or fragile but had muscle tone, power, and a stark warning that if I was going to take what I wanted, I’d have to fight for it.
Images instantly sprang to mind.
Of her nails on my skin. Of her teeth on my throat. Of her legs spreading as I subdued her to the ground and—
Stop!
My hands shook as I dropped my eyes.
Don’t.
My nostrils flared as I struggled with self-control. I balanced on a knife-edge of staying where I was or launching myself at her.
And then her voice cut through my raging pain. Soft and tentative, grateful. “You didn’t have to do that.”
The shock of her kind tone wrenched my head up. My cock stopped trying to buckle me beneath its command. I sucked in a breath. “Do what?”
She licked her pink lips. “Swap the bread.”
Her thankfulness sent me reeling. No one had ever been thankful. No one had ever used that tone toward me. No one. I cleared my throat, scrambling for forgotten words. “It was wet.”
“I’ve eaten worse.” Raising a shoulder, she half-heartedly shrugged. “I camp a lot. I don’t always make an effort to cook decent food. I don’t care about dirt or rain.”
Was she talking to me?
Was this a trick?
Some sort of ploy to make me interact with her?
You’re already interacting with her.
You’re feeding her, housing her, wanting to fuck her.
I balled my hands, distrust overshadowing my sudden compulsion to keep her spilling her secrets.
“What’s your name?” The question was sour on my tongue.
What the fuck?
Why would you ask that?
Who cared?
I didn’t.
I didn’t plan on keeping her around long enough to know why she camped or climbed or didn’t care about dirt.
She was dangerous.
I knew that now.
I couldn’t keep her as a pet. I couldn’t house her during winter and use her body whenever I wanted.
She has to go.
Gritting my teeth, I steeled myself against any other unwanted softenings.
I would carry out the unpleasant task of her demise tonight. Today. This very fucking moment before it got any more complicated.
I raised my hand. “Don’t. Don’t answer—”
“Gemma.” She bowed her head as if coming to the same conclusions I had. Spying a weakness in our boundaries, knowing that the more we conversed, the more connections would spring.
It was inevitable.
It was human nature.
It was the oldest trick in the goddamn book.
It had also been used against me far too many times to count.
And I won’t let it be used again.
“Gemma Ashford. But everyone calls me Gem.”
“I don’t care.” Dropping my gaze to my plate, I snatched a strawberry and shoved it into my mouth. First, I would eat. And then, I would kill.
She was nothing more than a creature caught in my snare with a broken leg and a bloody hide. I was doing her a favor. She’d thank me for—
“What’s your name?” she asked, her voice quiet but strong.
I kept chewing and ignored her.
“What is this place?” She waved around the cell. “How many live here? Is it just you? Where are you from originally? Have you been here long—”
“Shut up. Eat. I don’t have all day to finish this.”
“Finish what?” Her voice caught with fear.
I looked up.
We made eye contact.
She sucked in a breath, reading the truth of what I meant. Not finish breakfast. Finish her.
Shaking her head slightly, she bit her bottom lip. “Why?”
Once again, I ignored her, grabbing the bread and tearing a mouthful off with my teeth.
Her questions had made my own spring up.
What was the world like these days? Where had she used to live?
Did she have a husband back home? Would anyone miss her when I buried her in the garden? What was her favorite season?
I need to know everything.
I don’t need to know a thing.
Stuffing a snow pea into my mouth, I chewed hard and fast.
Sensing my animosity, she reached for her own plate. She went to grab a strawberry, but then she paused. Throwing me a suspicious glance, she watched as I selected a stick of celery and crunched.
Swallowing, I cocked my head. Her stare made my hair stand on end. “What?”
“You tried to kill me yesterday, and you just admitted that’s still your intention. Is this how you’ll do it? Is that why you’ve given me food?”
“I’ve given you food so you don’t die on an empty stomach. It’s called being kind.”
Her nose scrunched in disgust. “Kind is letting me go. Kind is not touching me. Kind is letting me live.”
“Then eat, and you’ll live a little longer.”
She held up the berry I’d painstakingly nurtured from seed to fruit. “Is it poisoned?”
I turned to chilly stone. “I’d never tamper with food that way.”
“Yet you’ll tamper with my life.”
“Different.”
“How is that different?” She glared at me as if her hatred had just grown a thousandfold.
“I want the strawberry. I don’t want you.”
Her shoulders went to slouch, only for steel to force her straight. “You wanted me last night.”
My hands curled around my plate. “That won’t happen again.
” Those four words were spoken in honesty, but they tasted like the worst lie I’d ever told.
Would I be able to end her life before touching her a final time?
Would I truly deny myself the chance to be inside her before she turned lifeless and cold?
She studied me silently, dropping the strawberry back onto her plate. She scanned the breakfast I’d generously provided, her eyes slowly filling with an empty darkness.
Once again, I was familiar with that look.