Page 9 of Envy
“You can’t make me stay here,” Evie says, tilting her chin up as she attempts to stare me down. My lips twist into a grin.
“Nobody escapes me once I decide they’re mine.” I take a step toward her, my brothers backing up as Erik’s laugh echoes behind me. I drop my voice, speaking the words just for her. “Mine, little fox. Mine to fuck. Mine to kill. Mine to break. It’s all the same.”
Those big brown eyes of hers widen, lips parting in surprise, but I catch the way her thighs clench.
“Then it’s a good thing I’m not yours.” She turns, darting up the stairs.
“Here we go!” Erik whoops, the purple lion of Pride glinting on his helmet as he bounds over the stair rail with unnatural grace.
Evie gasps, her footsteps faltering as she retreats. Subtle traces of wildflowers and fresh rain stir in the air as her back collides with my chest, her perfect ass pressing against my hardening cock.
“Careful, little fox,” I murmur, my gloved hands gripping her trembling shoulders. “I like to hunt. And you’re testing my limits of self-control.”
Evie rips out of my grasp, shoving me back as her gaze darts between Erik and the rest of my brothers forming a semicircle around us. Her eyes swirl with hatred, burning with a rage I feel in my bones. Something that potent is only born from unfulfilled hopes and forgotten dreams.
What has my little Evie been through to grant her such ire? Courage doesn’t come from a gentle life, and Evie has it in spades. In that moment, watching the dark flecks in her honey-brown eyes ignite with foolish defiance, I know her strength will only make breaking her all the more satisfying.
Her breath hitches, sensing the shift in energy as she takes a single step back. It’s only inches closer to Erik, but a deep growl rumbles in my chest.
Mine.
6
EVIE
Tattoos cover his body—coating his fingers, hands, forearms, swirling up his neck—giving way to a face that looks like it was carved from marble. He’s death incarnate, sin mixed with my darkest desires and given life.
Oh god. I’m so fucked.Sorry, God!I think automatically before chiding myself.If there is a God, and He really can hear my thoughts, I’m already condemned ten times over. Maybe there is, and this is the sick bastard’s way of punishing me. Some cosmic karma for not being faithful enough—for questioning. But if Iamgoing to hell, I want to go out swinging.
“Mine.” The word spills from his soft lips, sounding like a snarl. A warning that resonates deep in my core. The towering man tilts his head, the movement like a predator toying with its next meal. My heartbeat skips, my breath coming in short, ragged bursts as I prepare—for what? They have me boxed in, and it’s not like I could fight the two-hundred-plus pounds of stacked muscle before me.
“Easy,” the one behind me says, tossing his helmet with a purple lion to the one in red below. I turn to glare at the blonde-haired asshole, but his blue eyes aren’t looking at me as he takesa step back, moving further up the stairs. “No touching the new girl, right?”
“Enough, Erik,” the one before me growls. But the others are already moving. My pulse spikes as the rest follow suit—retreating, conceding my life to the beast of a man still poised inches from me. Chest heaving, I turn, swallowing down my panic as I watch the dark-haired villain observe me.
His fingers flex, curling as if memorizing the shape of my face. The slight movement draws my focus to the tattoo along his neck: the number seven with a serpent coiled around it—exactly like the symbol etched on the door.
My pulse thrums in my ears, my knuckles white, nails digging into my palms.Wait one goddamn minute.Is this some shitty catfish situation? This bastard pretends to be Tempest to lure me here and… what? Kidnaps me? Sells me to the highest bidder?
“Is this about my father?” I ask, proud of the way my voice doesn’t waver. “Because he’s not the type of guy to pay a ransom. If you let me go, I’ll go to the house and grab whatever I can?—”
“We don’t want your money, Evie,” the one hovering on the stairs says—Erik. “Silas is being very dramatic at the moment, but I assure you, we’re perfectly nice people.”
“You’re not leaving, little fox.” Silas’s deep voice rumbles, low and seductive, as he closes the distance between us.
“Not helping.” The blonde one grins, extending a hand. “I’m Erik.”
There’s a snort to the left, from a man with dark blue, spiraling ram horns on the side of his helmet. He tugs it free, his deep cerulean eyes landing on Erik with playful disbelief. His black hair is cropped short, dark skin lined with tattoos like the others, and I realize his black shirt is actually a deep navy blue.
“And I’m Dominic,” he says, batting away Erik’s still-outstretched hand. A casually cocky smile tilts his lips, strikingthe perfect balance between confidence and flirtation. “Unlike Erik and his pride, I know casual introduction doesn’t mean you’re going to sleep with us.”
My cheeks blaze scarlet as Silas’s fists flex. A murmur of low chuckles rises from the rest as they each remove their helmets.
“Fuck off, Lust,” Erik grumbles, shoving Dominic’s shoulder. “I wasn’t trying to sleep with her.”
“Lust?” I ask, curiosity dragging the word from my lips as something dark stirs in the back of my mind.
“That’s right,” Dominic answers. “Along with Sloth and Pride and all the rest of the Princes of Hell.”