Page 4 of His to Ruin

The others stumble back, their bravery unraveling like flesh from bone. The one in my grasp makes a garbled, desperate sound. I squeeze harder, just enough to feel his pulse stutter.

Christian is finally watching me. He can finally see me.

I should kill them all. Make him watch. Show him what I can do for him. How I can protect him.

But not yet.

I release my grip, and the man collapses to the ground, gasping like a fish torn from the depths. He scrambles backward, his hands frantically digging through the dirt and his blood.

The others do not wait. They run, their courage shattered, and their pathetic meat sacks carrying them as fast as their legs allow.

I do not chase them.

I turn to the only thing that matters.

He is still on the ground, wide-eyed, breath coming fast and shallow. His lips part, but no words spill out.

Good.

Fear looks beautiful on him.

I take a step forward. He flinches. Swallowing hard, his throat bobs so fucking delicately. It makes me want to press my lips there just to feel how frantic his pulse is against my teeth.

His fingers dig into the dirt as if it can save him from me. Adrenaline sings through his veins, a siren’s call, and I step closer.

“You—” he stops and shakes his head. “You’re not real.”

“Oh, Christian. That’s what you keep telling yourself.”

I take another step.

He scrambles up to his feet and begins to back away, putting space between us.

As if I will allow there to ever truly be space between us. I’ll let him think that he can escape me. Let him believe, for just a moment, that he can fight the pull between us.

The chase is half the fun.

3

CHRISTIAN

The sight in front of me doesn't make any sense. Logically, I know monsters aren’t real. My rational frontal lobe is aware that the beast of my nightmares, the figure of shadows and secrets that haunts me through the depths of my unconscious, can’t really be here. And yet, as he throws my attacker to the ground there’s no other explanation. My monster is real, and standing right in front of me.

“You—” I shake my head in disbelief as the group of would-be-bad-guys runs into the night, leaving me alone with my nightmare. “You’re not real.”

I don’t need to see his face to know that he’s assessing me. His heated gaze travels up and down my shaking form as he looms above me.

“Oh, Christian. That’s what you keep telling yourself,” he coos as he steps closer.

This is crazy. I must be dreaming.Why the hell can’t I wake up?Pushing up with the heels of my palms, I scamper to my feet as the beast approaches me, encroaching on my space and crowding me. His presence is dark and imposing. His toweringform is an ominous shadow that wraps around me, demanding my complete and utter submission. Fear rushes through my veins.

“What do you want?” I ask on a shaky exhale as I slowly step backward in an attempt to make space between us.

He doesn’t let me. His large presence closes the gap again, bringing me back into his shadowy pull. “You, Little Nightmare. I want you.”

The way he says it is almost tender, but the threatening promise of danger flows between his words. Despite my utter terror, I can’t help the way my cock twitches slightly in my pants. He takes another step toward me and I catch a glimpse of his dark onyx eyes. Eyes that are entirelynothuman. My feet seem to move on their own, pulling me away from the beast and into the trees.

I dash through the woods as fast as my legs can carry me. The ground is slick with damp leaves, forcing me to slow slightly as I weave between the gnarled trunks. I take turn after turn, twigs snagging and pulling at my clothes as I desperately attempt to lose him.