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She always does.

That’s why she’s so fuckingperfect.

Ruin had his fun last night. We’ve both been obsessed with her for years. She’s the only thing in this world dark enough,wildenough to match us blow for blow. The kind of woman who doesn’t leash her demons—she takes them dancing.

And fuck, we love her for it.

When she hit the tree line earlier, I watched her bolt from the back door on the security feeds like she actually had a shot. Like the forest wasn’t already mapped out with more cameras than trees and nearly as many traps. Ruin chuckled in my earpiece as she disappeared into the shadows, letting me take the lead this time.

“She’s fast,” he’d said. “But not faster than you.”

He’s watching now, no doubt—silent, still, drinking in every second of this.

But I’ve got her.

Our little storm.

Pinned beneath me with her wrists held tight to the forest floor and my knife at her throat. Her chest rises in rapid, shallow bursts, skin flushed and glowing in the faint morning light breaking through the canopy. She's furious. She’s humiliated. She’saroused—and trying to pretend she isn’t.

She thinks no one’s ever satisfied her because no one could keep up with her.

She was wrong.

She just needed someone totakecontrol.

Someone who could strip it from her, tear her down until all that’s left is instinct. Need. Surrender. Me. Or Ruin. Preferably both.

“You fight like hell,” I murmur, my voice low and even, letting the blade tease a whisper lower between her collarbones. “But you’ve never really been chased before, have you?”

She squirms. Not to get away. Not really.

It’s subtle. Her hips arch just enough to brush against the pressure of my body. Just enough to chase friction where I know she’s aching.

“You want to scream?” I press. “Then fucking scream. Scream because you want me to break you.”

She goes still—every breath, every muscle coiled like she’s balancing on the edge of a cliff.

I press down slightly more with the knife—not enough to hurt her. Just enough to remind her I could.

“I’m going to make you admit it,” I whisper near her ear. “That no one else could ever do this to you. That no one’s everearnedthe right to hear you scream.”

My grip on her wrists tightens.

She can’t run now.

She can barely breathe.

And I won’t let her lie to herself for much longer.

She doesn’t realize how fucking beautiful she was out there.

Running through the forest like she had a prayer. Sweat clinging to her skin, breath ragged, clothes clinging to every curve like a second skin. She hit every trap like she was being tested by the gods—and kept going. Even when the leaves rained down on her head. Even when that wire yanked her legs out from under her. Even when the snare dragged her kicking into the air.

She never broke.

She just burned hotter.

And I nearly came in my fucking pants watching her.