Page 43 of Broken Obsession

But…

“A lifetime, you said?”

Ares nodded. “This is the part of the story where Creation reclaims his Starling, but only if you’re willing to return to me. If not,” he dropped his hand, “I’ll bash his head in, take you home, fuck you until you’re senseless, and then disappear come morning. Your life will remain yours, to do with as you please.”

“And the others?” Eden asked. “His accomplices?”

“When you’re ready to take them out, I’ll make the same offer. We’ve got two targets to go, before we have to deal with dear old dad. Eventually, you’ll cave. You’ll give in.” The corner of his mouth curved ever so slightly. “You’ll be mine.”

What Ares wasn’t pointing out was that by killing Zonnie tonight, he would have already made Daven Dephik his enemy. He must have a plan to stay hidden. Which meant he’d thought this all through thoroughly.

“And if I don’t? If we do this dance and play to the end, and I’m unwilling to stay with you until I die?”

“Then it is what it is. I’ll kill the ones who were physically responsible, but you’ll be on your own for the final boss.”

“That’s all?” Could Eden be satisfied with that? Technically, Daven hadn’t been present that night. But he’d helped cover it up. He was the reason three years had passed with no retribution. He deserved to pay, too, didn’t he?

“I play fair. That’s the only way it’s worth it,” Ares replied.

“What is?”

“Winning.” He grinned when Eden frowned. “You don’t agree.”

“I’m pretty sure getting what you want is what makes anything worth it.”

“We don’t have to see eye to eye on everything.” That was it. He didn’t argue, or try to convince Eden, or explain.

Because he fully expected Eden to give in?

Or because he didn’t actually care about owning him one way or the other?

What was the point in saving himself when he wasn’t even sure if there was a single person left alive who wanted him, good or bad?

“I need to think about Daven, but as for the rest of it…I’ll do it,” he blurted, recognizing the predatory glint in Ares’ red eyes a second too late.

Ares walked forward, and instinctively, Eden retreated, gasping when his back hit the wall. The Black Hart laughed at him, then leaned down and nuzzled his nose with his mask almost sweetly. “Stay.”

Eden’s eyes widened when the air in the room seemed to shift, becoming heavy and terrifying. There was an almost cloying feel to it, threatening to smother him.

It was coming from Ares.

From the way he carried himself, testing the handle of the bat in his grip, humming a tune absently as he moved.

The theme song to Vanity.

“A life for a life,” Ares said lightly, stopping in front of Zonnie so the guy could see him. “Seems fair, doesn’t it?”

“No! No, please!”

Ares ignored him. “Thanks to my Starling, yours is going to last a little longer. You should be grateful.”

“Please,” the man wailed.

“Trust me,” Ares continued, “the After might be worse than the Before. You never know until you’re in it.” He set the end of the bat beneath Zonnie’s chin and lifted his head. “Thank him. Say, ‘Thank you, Starling, for your mercy.’ Say it.”

“No! No, please—”

The bat smashed into Zonnie’s right kneecap, and the crunch was deafening.