Page 6 of Monsters Carve Thrones (Crowned Monsters Duet #2)

ADELA

(TW: CNC - Consensual non-consent)

The days passed in a blur of sun-drenched skin, salt on my lips, and the sound of Rafe’s stress-free laughter. It was amazing, spending this time together. There was no danger, no enemies or worries.

We swam in crystal-blue coves, his hands always on me in a loving, teasing way.

We ate like royalty, barefoot and glowing beneath the setting sun, our plates filled with grilled seafood and sweet fruit, wine poured into our glasses like we had nowhere else to be but here.

And we didn’t. We had ten whole days of just us.

Ten whole days of no one watching. No one needing anything.

However, something was missing.

He hadn’t made good on his promise.

Each morning, I woke with a pulse between my thighs and the lingering memory of his hand around my throat, whispering that he wanted to chase me. Take me. Catch me.

I’d been waiting.

He had taken me in my sleep the other night and when I awoke to him inside me, I nearly lost my mind with pleasure.

Rafe was always watching me. I could feel it even when his gaze wasn’t on my skin.

It was like he was biding his time, or planning something.

And the longer it dragged on, the more anxious I became.

I knew how violent he could be, and was absolutely curious to know how far he’d take it.

Obviously, if I announced my safeword, he’d stop immediately.

We’d already had practice with that when one day, he stormed into our bedroom, all pissed off from a bad meeting.

The man’s knuckles were still shredded and bloody when he forced me to bend over the bed.

I totally would have taken and enjoyed it, but I was sincerely worried about him.

The moment the safeword left my lips, he froze and stepped back.

After what he did to me last year, he took my boundaries very seriously and earned my trust back. And for that, I was forever grateful. But now...all I wanted was for him to rip me apart.

Every laugh at dinner, every brush of his fingers down my spine, and every time he watched me undress, I was tempted to get on my knees and beg.

I wanted him to snap . The fuck was wrong with me?

Was it sick that I wanted him to hunt me like prey?

Sure. But it wasn’t about fear. Not with Rafe.

It was the thrill and the power. The idea of surrendering to him because I chose to.

Because I wanted him to catch me. It also made my goddamn pussy ache just knowing that he wanted me bad enough to chase me down.

That alone made my skin burn.

One night, lying on a lounger with a glass of wine and nothing but the stars above us, I glanced sideways at him. He was sipping whiskey, bare-chested, watching the waves roll in.

“How many days do we have left?” I asked lightly.

He smirked. “Four.”

I tilted my head. “And when do I get my surprise?”

He didn’t look at me. Just swirled the amber in his glass and said, “Soon, baby.”

My thighs pressed together. Bastard. He knew exactly what he was doing. I was going to fucking combust.

***

The next morning came just as sweetly as every other.

I stretched beneath the sheets, the scent of salt air drifting through the open patio doors.

Rafe was already gone, probably making coffee or arranging for one of the ridiculous fruit platters he insisted on every morning.

I smiled to myself, slipping into a white linen cover-up over my black bikini before joining him outside.

He was leaning back in a chair, shirtless and tan, reading something on his phone with that steely focus that I found wildly attractive. Even like this, relaxed and casual, he was power.

“Morning, wifey,” he said without looking up, but I saw the smirk tug at the corner of his mouth.

My cheeks heated. Wifey . I snorted, thinking how insane it was that such a terrifying man would use that word. I padded over and kissed his cheek, letting my hand slide across his shoulders. “Morning, hubby .”

We spent the day on the beach, sun-warmed and half-drunk, sprawled on a pair of lounge chairs under a palm- thatched umbrella.

I was finally tan again, my skin glowing against the dark of my bikini, and Rafe?

He looked like a god with his now-bronzed skin, tousled black hair, and those glacier-blue eyes more lethal than ever. The contrast was honestly devastating.

He ordered fruity drinks for us, one of those over-the-top things with rum and crushed ice and a wedge of pineapple. I blinked at him like he’d just confessed to murder.

“You ordered a tropical daiquiri ?” I teased, raising a brow. “ You? Rafe Vaughan? Really?”

He shrugged, sipping it without shame. “Wanted to see what the fuss was about.”

“It’s pink.”

“It’s strong.”

I laughed, feeling a little drunk on the sun and him.

Hours passed lounging, stealing lazy kisses, and talking about life. Rafe traced patterns on my bare thighs, and I melted under his touch. We walked the beach as the sun set, fingers laced together, and for a moment, I forgot about the anticipation clawing at my spine. The chase. The promise.

I sighed heavily into him, feeling happy and safe. And completely unaware of what was likely coming.

***

I wasn’t sure what time it was when I woke up. The moonlight stretched across the floor, and the curtains whispered in the breeze. The bed beside me was empty, still warm where his body had been. I blinked, slowly sitting up.

“Rafe?” I called softly.

No answer.

Something in the air felt… different, like static before a storm.

I pushed back the sheets and stood, my black silk nightgown clinging to my skin as I stepped barefoot across the tile.

The villa was too quiet. The ocean beyond the windows rolled with steady, dark waves. A thrill curled down my spine.

And then I saw something that made me suck in a breath. On the glass patio door, there was a smear of red . My lipstick, drawn in a crude little heart.

My pulse spiked.

Oh, shit.

I turned slowly, my heart pounding now. Before I could call out for him again, a sudden shadow darted behind one of the open bedroom doors. He was hunting me.

A grin spread across my lips, involuntary and wild as I picked up on the softest creak of a floorboard. Then silence.

Another creak.

And that’s when I bolted.

I tore down the hallway barefoot, nightgown fluttering around my thighs, hair flying behind me. I ducked into the bathroom and slammed the door shut, locking it with trembling fingers. My breath was ragged and sharp as I backed away from the door, listening.

Silence.

Then–a knock. It was soft and playful, triggering goosebumps along my skin.

“Hey, lovely,” Rafe’s voice was low and teasing. “You can try to run, to hide… but you won’t get far. I’ll catch you, little doe.”

I pressed my hand to my mouth to stifle the gasp. Another beat of silence… then the handle jiggled, turned and stopped against the lock.

And then, a deep chuckle, followed by a hard bang on the door. I flinched.

He was loving this.

I backed toward the narrow window, open just wide enough to slip through.

My blood thrummed as I climbed onto the ledge, my heart pounding so hard I could barely hear.

I dropped to the outside ground hard, the shock of sand hitting my palms barely registering before I was up again, sprinting barefoot into the trees behind the villa.

The jungle swallowed me in seconds. Branches whipped across my skin, twigs cracked beneath my feet, and the humid air sliced through my lungs like a blade. My heart thundered, not just from exertion...but from the thrill. The kind that curled around my spine and whispered, he’s coming.

A shadow moved. A blur behind me.

I heard him break through the underbrush with no attempt at silence, and I pivoted fast, ducking low, my elbow slamming up into his ribs as he lunged.

He grunted, stumbling.

I spun, kicked, missed.

He caught my ankle mid-air. “Not bad,” Rafe growled, yanking hard.

I crashed backward, twisted, and rolled onto my knees before he could mount me. I swept his legs out with mine and scrambled to my feet, breath ragged. “You taught me too well,” I panted, a wicked grin slicing across my face as I darted deeper into the jungle.

His dark, thrilled laugh followed after me. “Oh, baby... you’re gonna regret that.”

I didn’t stop. I vaulted a fallen log and scraped my thigh on a jutting root, blood hot in my veins. I could feel him closing in again. He was bigger, faster, stronger, but I had agility. I had fire.

Was this what a deer felt like when it ran for its life?

I cut sharply left, ducked under a low-hanging branch, then feinted right–

But he was already there.

His hand shot out, grabbing my wrist and yanking me back hard. I snarled, twisting, slamming the heel of my palm toward his face.

He blocked it.

We wrestled, struggling in the moon-drenched clearing, a mess of breath and muscle and grit. Then–

He slammed me into a tree. My back hit bark. His chest pinned me. “Thought you could escape me?” Rafe’s voice was nothing but smoke and steel. He was breathing hard. Turned on and scary . My eyes widened and I took him in. His shoulders were tense, his face serious and pupils dilated.

“You’re slow,” I taunted, biting back a grin. “Getting old?”

His laugh was sharp and absolutely feral. “You’re insane,” he rasped, dragging his mouth along my jaw, his hand gripping my throat. “You really thought the window would work?”

“I hoped.” I smirked, still panting. “But I had to let you catch me eventually.”

He jerked me closer and then back against the tree, one hand wrapped around my neck, the other trailing down my thigh. His voice dipped to something darker.

“You look so beautiful, baby,” he breathed.

“You, too.” The admission spilled out. But he was. I was entranced by the sheer beauty and power of him. “I want the fight.”