Page 45 of First Offense

“Why did you come find me?” I asked after several more steps.

He seemed to consider not replying, then he paused to look at me. “Because I can’t torment you if you’re dead.”

I narrowed my gaze. “You can’t torment me while I’m alive, either.”

He reached down to dig his thumb into my gash, his nostrils flaring with electric power. I gripped him by the throat in response, ignoring the agony rippling up my side, and slammed him against the stairwell.

His pupils dilated.

My lips curled into a snarl. “Try again.”

He dug his nail in farther, accepting my dare.

I tightened my grasp. “I could end you.”

Amusement taunted the edges of his lips, his eyes daring me to proceed. He lived for the challenge and the violence and our innate need for savagery. I could feel him hardening beneath his slacks, his arousal permeating the air with that damn leathery scent.

He wanted to fight.

To fuck.

To destroy.

And that harsh part of his nature called to mine, taunting my warrior half into coming out to play.

I roughly shoved him away, denying him the opportunity, and headed up into the sunlight to check on my charge. My duty. My sole purpose for being in this hellhole.

Each step made me hate her more.

Shewas the reason I’d found myself in this nightmare.

Those damn black wings.

Repent. Reform. Resurrect.

Three principles I intended to drill into her skull just as soon as I checked up on her and took a damn shower.

Novak’s dark chuckle followed me upward, his presence a shadow of my past that only angered me more.

Fuck. This.

14

Layla

My guardians are assholes.

They’d left me in the yard, alone, with total strangers. Although, I supposed Novak was a stranger, too. But I felt safer with him than others.

Because I’m losing my mind in this place, I thought, shivering, as his scent lingered around me. It was like he’d created a cloak of protection before he’d left me standing here by the cliffs.

Raven had joined me, our eyes surveying the labyrinth below. Her mates were nearby, functioning as proverbial bodyguards. Not that I trusted them to protect me. They’d choose her over me without much consideration.

So I’d just have to rely on myself. Good thing I had some training in the art of self-preservation. Royals were viewed as dainty beings who were meant to be coddled and cherished, but my father had ensured I knew how to defend myself.

I was the sole heir to his throne.

My survival was imperative.