Chapter 20
We sit in silence for a moment as Elly becomes lost in her thoughts.
When we are brought the next dish, she blinks slowly, as if waking from a deep slumber.
Her eyes widen at the sight of the plates before us.
Whatever she was thinking melts away at the sight of our dessert: a hot chocolate moelleux accompanied by pure vanilla ice cream and an assortment of red berries. It looks and smells divine.
We pick up our cutlery and carefully cut the pastry in half. Rich chocolate flows onto our plates, and a soft whimper escapes her lips. The hot, gooey center holds not only chocolate but also tiny gold flakes that shimmer in the light.
Elly squeals in excitement as she raises a piece to her mouth, her joy nearly infectious.
Where she succeeded with the main course, she now fails miserably.
A moan escapes those soft lips at the first bite.
Her eyes dart my way as she licks the molten chocolate from her lips, smiling at me.
She calls me wicked, but she’s no better herself, the temptress.
I return her smile, though I feel myself reaching a breaking point.
When we’re finished, Elly takes her napkin to wipe her mouth.
Before she can, I lean over, close my hand around the back of her neck, and pull her closer to me.
Her eyes widen, and her heartbeat quickens.
I love the effect I have on her; she has the same effect on me—she just doesn’t realize it yet.
I slowly lick the remaining chocolate from her lips, savoring the moment. “Delicious,” I murmur as I hesitantly let go of her.
The combination of all the food, the drinks, the earlier teasing, and now this kiss has her almost giggling in my arms. It’s gotten late, and we’re the last patrons left.
Elly notices, and some of her earlier boldness returns, her eyes sparkling once more with mischief.
Her face rests against mine, and her fingers trail down my chest, lower and lower.
“Let’s get out of here,” I whisper, catching her hand before she can do anything else. I don’t want to end up taking her on this table.
We rise from our seats, and Caner seemingly appears out of nowhere with our coats.
“I hope everything was to your liking?” he inquires while helping us into our coats.
“Wonderful as always,” I reply, nodding my thanks.
“It was the best meal I’ve ever had,” Elly adds.
Caner’s eyes light up with delight, clearly hearing the honesty in her words.
I pull out my wallet and follow him to the cash register, momentarily leaving Elly behind. I have something I want to discuss with Caner in private. Our host fetches the bill, and I cast a glance back at my wife to find her smiling at me. So pure, honest, and happy that it nearly melts my heart.
“She’s very lovely,” Caner says with a genuine smile, drawing my attention back to him.
“I’m lucky to have her,” I admit, returning his smile, while handing him my credit card. “Add yourself a generous tip,” I say, and he laughs nervously.
“Your food is worth it, and you know it.”
Caner accepts the card with an exaggerated sigh, shows me the amount he’s going to charge, and proceeds when I nod in approval. Moments later, he hands me the card back, and I sign the receipt.
“Caner,” I start, my hand hovering over the paper when my magic starts to scream at me.
When I raise my gaze, there’s a clear warning in the flesh-eater’s eyes.
“Deimos,” he begins, but I effectively cut him off with a single look, no longer caring about what I wanted to discuss with him.
I turn and see the server has Elly caged between himself and her seat.
She looks annoyed but slightly nervous as well.
Narrowing my eyes at the back of his head, I give it two seconds to see if he’s truly this stupid.
He reaches out to her, twirling a finger around a strand of her silver-white hair, leaning in to whisper something in her ear.
He’s dead, very dead.
I see red as I stalk over and grab the man by the scruff of his neck.
Easily lifting him off his feet, I throw him across the restaurant.
He crashes through the window, making shards fly everywhere.
My magic seeps from my body like black smoke, fueled by my rage, rolling over the ground like thick waves.
There’s a pounding in my ears, like a war drum that urges me on, on, on.
I turn my head and throw a look at Elly. Her eyes are wide, her breathing erratic, and her magic barely contained as she looks at me. A wicked smile crosses my lips when I notice her reaction isn’t one of fear.
In an instant, I’m outside, picking the server off the ground before he gets any more stupid ideas. My grip tightens as I lift him, his feet dangling in the air. It’s a miracle I can restrain myself from snapping his neck on the spot.
A hand touches my arm, a featherlight touch, and I tilt my head to Elly. My eyes lock on hers, blue and green, breaking through the fury-induced fog in my mind. It momentarily halts me, forcing me to focus completely on her.
She sucks in a breath, slightly taken aback by the raw intensity of my rage-induced magic.
I know what it does to me, how it drains the color from my eyes until darkness reigns.
Yet again, she’s not deterred. Elly rises on her tiptoes and places a soft kiss on my lips.
She steps back, and I give her a tooth-baring grin that makes her squirm.
Then I return my full attention to the server.
He starts to struggle harder under my chokehold, clawing at my hand, his fingers morphing into actual claws that slowly reveal the inhuman beneath his human facade.
I slam his head against the brick wall next to the broken window, effectively cutting off whatever transformation was starting to take place.
The coppery smell of blood fills the air, making my magic hum in appreciation. To his credit, the man doesn’t show any signs of pain despite the streak of blood on the wall behind him.
“You’ve been making eyes at her all evening.” My voice is pure venom as I snarl at him, the promise of death clear in every word. “Instead of counting your blessings and being grateful that I didn’t take your eyes out on the spot... you dare to touch her?”
Uncaring about the possible consequences, I grab one of his fingers while keeping him pinned down—the finger that touched her hair, as a matter of fact.
Without warning, I rip it off and toss it away.
Blood squirts from the wound, but I manage to point his hand away from me so it doesn’t get on my clothes.
The server screams bloody murder, his eyes wide with shock and outrage.
The sound is aggravating, to say the least, like nails on a chalkboard, so I release some pressure and set him down on his feet.
The man immediately starts cursing at me, which is even worse than the screaming.
In response, I grab his tongue and pull on the muscle.
Panic sets in, and he begs for forgiveness as much as he can while I hold his tongue.
I continue to ignore his pleas as he starts to punch and kick at me.
I glare at him, but there’s only defiance in his eyes as he continues his assault.
Not that it’s actually doing anything besides angering me even more.
In a swift and vicious movement, I rip out his tongue.
Blood spatters everywhere—on him, on my clothes, and on Elly, painting her beautiful white coat red.
The tongue flops to the ground, and the server buckles, his legs no longer supporting him. He bleeds profusely, shaking, probably going into shock any moment now.
I turn to Elly, my chest heaving from the sublime rush. A frown forms on my brow at the sight of the blood on her coat, breaking through the murderous haze. Then I smile again and reach out to touch her cheek. “I knew you would look beautiful painted in blood.”
The words and the smile I give her turn her on. Even if she doesn’t show it, I can practically smell her arousal—her heavy breathing, the smoldering gaze, the soft flush to her cheeks. She wouldn’t be able to deny it even if she tried.
My wife is turned on by me maiming someone. If she wasn’t perfect already, this definitely seals the deal. It doesn’t leave me unaffected, either, making it clear I need to wrap this up quickly.
I unceremoniously drop the server, disinterest washing over me now that my sights are set on her. My anger subsides with the blood that has spilled, replaced by another need.
Of course, the man decides to be an idiot and kicks at my feet.
My anger flares up again as I lower myself to meet his gaze.
A different kind of grin spreads across my face as I grab the server’s head in both hands.
I place my thumbs over his eyes while my magic reaches out to Elly, wrapping around her and intertwining with her own. I feel it send shivers down her spine.
Under her watchful gaze, I push down on the server’s eyes, my thumbs breaking through the corneas and puncturing the eyeballs with ease. He screams anew, a guttural sound that echoes in the absence of his tongue. It’s music to my ears.
I bury my thumbs knuckle-deep in the soft, gooey substance, grinning like a madman. It takes only seconds for both eyes to be reduced to bloody pulps. I step back to survey the whimpering, pathetic form of the man before me.
“Take him away,” I snarl, absentmindedly wiping my hands on the already ruined overcoat.
Silently, Caner steps in, hoists his employee from the floor, and hauls him off. Not a word is spoken, not a look exchanged.
My attention is already on Elly again, and I wonder what the sight of my blood-spattered face and clothes does to her.
I grab her, spin her, and slam her back against the same brick wall, the force of it making her coat fall open.
A breath whooshes from her lips, and she gasps as I cage her with my arms, looking down at her while that same darkness lingers in my eyes.
“I told you what I would do to anyone who dared to look at you. So tell me, love”—my voice is raw, and her breath hitches—“did you enjoy watching?”
Elly’s flustered state fuels my fire. I trace her jawline with a finger, moving down to her neck, collarbone, and the valley between her breasts. Her breathing becomes heavy, and in return, my fire blazes hotter, a Cheshire-like smile splitting my face.
“You did, didn’t you?”
“Yes,” she admits, her voice breathy and lustful.
I chuckle and bury my head in her neck, inhaling that scent I’m starting to love perhaps a little too much.
Fuck, she really was made for me in every single way.
Not because I remade her—no, this goes so much deeper than that.
She’s the other piece of me, meant to make me whole.
I never believed the old stories about souls destined to be together, but the longer I’m with her, the more I begin to suspect there might be something to it after all.
Perhaps I’m just desperate for someone of my own, someone who gets me as I am. But something deep in my bones tells me this goes beyond my need for someone who wants me, desires me for me. Is it possible that in searching for someone to set me free, I found my perfect other half?
I know that at first, she was reluctant, hoping to escape me at the first opportunity.
But I’ve noticed she’s becoming more comfortable.
She doesn’t look at me anymore as if she wants to run.
No man or woman before has ever looked at me that way.
I always become too much for them to handle—too jealous, too violent, too full of bloodlust.
But not her.
I nibble the soft skin of Elly’s neck, my hands finding their way to her back as I press her close to me. “You really are too perfect for me,” I murmur into her hair, unable to voice everything that’s swirling in my mind. It’s the closest I can get for now, and I mean it; she really is perfect.
Her hands grasp at my overcoat between us. We’re so close that I can hear the frantic beating of her heart.
“You told me you wanted to learn how to skin a human skull?” She looks up at me, biting her lip while giving a small nod. My face fills with a sinful kind of glee. “I have a better idea.”