Page 11 of Blood and Thorns (Twisted Ever After #1)

Arabella

“Get on your knees.” Sebastian’s husky command washed over me, and my immediate reaction was to run from the man who was nothing more than a predator in human skin. He made my palms slick, fear a sour taste at the back of my tongue.

“You didn’t even let me say goodbye,” I whispered, staying perfectly still when he straightened to his full height. He seemed to possess the aura of some great tyrant, one that began to walk slowly around me like I was his fresh sacrifice. Which, I guess I kind of was.

What the hell was I thinking?

Why did I ever agree to this?

His attention burned, the silence stretching until I couldn’t take it any longer.

Closing my eyes, I begged for my own breathing to settle down, to not give away my apprehension.

Everything about him was intimidating.From his presence, his sheer size, to the way he watched me with such focus it was unnerving.

“Ten seconds in, and you’re already disobeying me.”

Shit. I literally had one job, and I’d already screwed it up .

Opening my eyes, I found Sebastian standing directly in front of me. He was so tall I had to tip my head back to study the beautiful design of his mask.

It was a matte black skull, the jaw and hollow of the nose intricate in its detail.

It curved up the side of his face and across the bridge of his nose, leaving only his eyes on full display.

A thick scar marked down his right eye, like some great creature had tried to blind him but failed.

It curled up through his brow, disappearing into his hairline.

You’d think it would make him seem barbaric, but the scar only drew attention to the stunning midnight shade of his iris, and the sadism that glistened in its dark depths.

“Are you always going to hide behind that mask? Be weird if we’re going to spend a lot of time together.” Oh my God. What am I saying? “Strange kink to have.” Fuck. Me. Sideways. Stop!

I think I was having an episode. Or a stroke. Or something equally as nefarious.

Sebastian cocked his head, his eyes narrowing on me for a moment before he slowly reached up to the straps behind his ears. I held my breath as he revealed his face, memorising the sharp contours of his cheekbones and the sheer angle of his jaw.

He had a beard, too long to be stubble, but too short to do anything but keep it trimmed in the same dark shade as his long, shaggy hair.

He revealed more scars, the skin rougher compared to his natural golden tan.

One sliced through his upper lip, and a few fainter marks slashed across his forehead and cheeks.

It was the first time I was able to really study him, and for some reason he was letting me with a patience I didn’t expect.

He stood with the self-assurance of a king, his intensity almost a physical vibration between us.

His suit was crisp, with the collar open to reveal tattooed black and grey thorns wrapping around his throat.

A few rings adorned his large hands, the metal dark and chunky.

The sophisticated image didn’t match the feral glint in his eyes, like a wolf pretending to be a sheep.

“You finished?” he asked, his voice a deep gruff that sounded more like a growl than not. “It’s too late to back out now. Once you’re mine, you’re mine, belle. ” The last part was whispered against my skin, his breath intimate as he dipped his head towards mine.

I swallowed past the lump in my throat. “It’s Ara.”

He wasn’t even using Bella, which was a nickname I despised and refused to acknowledge. Belle was arguably worse, because he’d come up with it.

His upper lip quirked up in a smirk, as if reading my thoughts.

Get on your knees.

His velvet command echoed in my mind. I knew what I’d agreed, my life for my father’s.

I was waiting for Sebastian to demand it again, my legs locked to keep me from shaking.

Getting on my knees was probably the least of my worries, and yet I stood as still as a statue.

My pulse was erratic, and if I didn’t calm down soon, I may end up passing out or something else equally dramatic.

“Are you going to kill me?” I finally asked, proud that my voice sounded strong and not at all scared shitless.

I watched as Sebastian reattached his mask, making him seem even more vicious.

“Is that what you want?”

“Of course not,” I said without hesitation, but there wasn’t much conviction behind the words. Wait, I didn’t want him to kill me. Did I? No, I was definitely having an out-of-body experience right now. I’ll blame the highly stressful situation .

Sebastian didn’t seem convinced. Which wasn’t great a start, and oh God, I think I might cry.

“Let me take you to your room.” His arm brushed mine as he headed towards the door, leaving me to look after him.

“Room? But I thought…”

“You want to stay in the dungeon?” he asked over his shoulder. “I like to keep some of my spiders there.”

“No.” Wiping the traitorous tear from my cheek, I followed, the corridor a labyrinth before we came to the golden lift as before. At least, I think it was the same lift.

The doors opened at his approach, his shoulders eating up the space before he turned and waited. Steeling my spine, I joined him, ignoring the way he seemed to steal all the surrounding oxygen. He didn’t look at me as he pressed his palm to one of the panels, and the lift began to descend.

It wasn’t lost on me that he never actually answered my question. Which meant there was a very good chance that he may just kill me.

Sebastian

I fisted my hands at my sides, refraining from touching her. What I really wanted was to hit something, to expel the charge building in my body that I had no hope of concealing, but I’d restrict myself until I could get into the ring.

Fear almost had an aura, an intensity that radiated.

Arabella held a faint tremor, her eyes facing forward and refusing to look at me.

Fear was good, important. It meant she wasn’t a fool who’d offered herself up to me on a silver platter.

But someone who was loyal enough to risk herself, even if that loyalty wasn’t deserved.

The doors opened, and I stepped out, and after only a second of hesitation, she joined me. Her eyes burned into my back, and I knew she was curious as to why I’d re-attached my mask.

The only time I didn’t wear it in public was when I was fighting. I didn’t care that people saw my scars; I’d come to use them to my advantage, a reminder that beneath the suits I’d survived more than what most could. To not fuck with me.

The mask was nothing more than a symbol of my power.

Of the Beast that I’d been unceremoniously named.

The familiar scent of perfume assaulted my nose almost immediately, those in attendance knowing not to let their gaze linger for too long. There were hushed whispers as I strode across the carpet, and quiet murmurs as people stepped out of my way.

I found Caden and Graves arguing quietly by the door, Miles, the doorman on duty standing patiently to the side. Again, he was just for show, because Caden was by far more dangerous.

Everything looked a certain way. Played a part.

Power wasn’t just about being the boss. You had to look right and react expectantly.

Otherwise, those beneath you believed they could overthrow you, when in reality they would never be in the same league.

Miles looked the part, his height only an inch shy of my six foot five, and his arms were thicker, making him unnecessarily bulky.

Not great if he needed to cross his arms, but perfect for standing around and looking strong.

Grave’s eyes widened when he realised I was there, sweat coating his brow .

“Detective. You were warned last time that if you stepped foot on my territory again, you wouldn’t be walking away.”

“My badge lets me go wherever the hell I want!” he snapped, but the fire in his voice was all bark, no bite. He could posture all he liked, but underneath that badge and bravado he feared me like the rest of them. “Ara, get over here. We’re leaving.”

Arabella tensed beside me but didn’t make a move. Good girl.

“Who let you in?” I asked, keeping my voice dangerously low.

I first met Graves six years ago when he was part of the task force trying to take me down. At the time I specialised in pills before moving to cocaine because I could make it cleaner, cheaper, and even sell it at a premium to pharmaceutical companies wanting anaesthetic. Off the record, of course.

Graves was young, reckless, and dumb enough to start popping the same pills he was supposed to be nicking me for.

Last I’d heard, they’d kicked him off the task force, disgraced, demoted, and barely clinging to a badge.

The only reason I hadn’t made him vanish was because he never got close enough to make anything stick.

Detective Graves was a pain in my arse, but if he disappeared it would’ve drawn more attention to me. So, I let him live. A mistake I’d happily rectify.

“Arabella’s mine,” he answered instead, gnashing his teeth together.

I shook my head, noticing the way his pupils were blown. Seemed he was still out partying too hard. “Not anymore,” I said.

Rage coloured his cheeks. “That’s it, take my sloppy seconds,” he taunted, but I didn’t rise to the bait. Grave’s attention shifted to Arabella. “You turned me down for him?” he spat at her. “If you come with me now, I’ll forgive you.”

I smirked beneath my mask when she simply lifted her chin and remained silent.

There was strength in her spine, in the way she’d just faced me with defiance, and now how she responded to Grave’s venom.

It called to the darker side of me, rousing my demons who wanted to taunt that little spark until I eventually ruined her.

Grave’s hand snapped out, snagging her wrist in an iron grip.

I moved before anyone else, my large palm cuffing the back of his neck. “Last warning,” I whispered, dropping my voice. “Touch what’s mine again, and I’ll slit your throat in front of the entire room.”

I released him as abruptly as I’d grabbed him, causing him to stagger slightly to the side. Grave’s face glowed crimson, his eyes darting around for help that didn’t exist.

After a moment he leaned in, voice low and trembling with fury. “Enjoy her while you can, because a storm’s coming,” he hissed, lips curling into a twisted grin. “And when it hits, and you’ve lost everything, your status, your money and empire—it’ll be my cuffs locking around your wrists.”