Page 63 of Monsters Wear Crowns (Crowned Monsters Duet #1)

And then I saw him. Rafe stood in the center of the room, his arms spattered with blood, his black T-shirt likely drenched in it. His dark hair was disheveled, and his stance was wide and predatory. And before him, bound to a chair, was a man I recognized. He was one of Moreau's men.

A sharp inhale. “Rafe.”

He turned slowly, his lips curling into something that might have been a smirk if not for the madness in his eyes. A glint of steel caught my attention, and I realized he was holding a knife, the blade slick and glistening under the dim light.

“What are you doing?” My voice was hoarse, barely above a whisper.

He chuckled, a grating sound, stepping toward me with unhurried ease. “Just talking.” Before I could react, he moved. A blur of motion, the cold bite of metal snapping around my wrist–handcuffs locking me against the stone wall.

“Rafe!” I jerked against the restraint, panic flaring hot in my chest. “What the fuck are you doing?” I was so caught off guard that my voice went up several octaves.

His face was close to mine now, his breath warm against my skin. “I want you to watch, Adela.”

My pulse hammered as I struggled against the cuffs, my other hand pressing flat against the wall. “This isn’t–this isn’t necessary–”

He ignored me, stepping back toward the man in the chair.

The man’s head lolled forward, his face bruised, blood pooling beneath the chair.

Rafe crouched beside him, gripping his hair and yanking his head up.

“No one touches what’s mine ,” he murmured, but his eyes weren’t on his victim. They were on me.

Possessive. Unhinged.

I shuddered.

“I wasn’t the one who–” the man gasped. “It wasn’t–”

The knife pressed against his cheek. “You spoke to her. You thought about fucking her,” Rafe said smoothly. “And you pissed me off. That was enough.”

The man’s breath stuttered. “You’re fucking–”

The blade carved through flesh.

I flinched at the guttural scream that tore from his throat. My stomach twisted, watching his expression twist into agony. Blood dripped onto the floor like time slowed. I wanted to turn away, to shut my eyes and pretend this wasn’t happening.

But Rafe wouldn’t let me.

His gaze locked on mine, daring me to look away, daring me to see him for what he was. The dark monster of New York City. Was this what he looked like when he was losing one of his possessions?

I almost told him then. Almost screamed that he had hurt me, too. That I had moved out because of him . But the words died in my throat. Because for the first time, I wasn’t sure what he’d do if I reminded him.

I clawed at the cuff, my wrist burning from how hard I was pulling, but it was no use. The metal didn’t budge. The chains rattled uselessly as my breath came in fast, uneven gasps.

Then he was on me again.

Rafe pinned me against the wall, his body a furnace of heat and blood. His hands caged me in, one braced beside my head, the other pressing against my hip, fingers still damp with the remnants of what he’d just done.

And then he smiled. That fucking dimple appeared on his right cheek, the same one that had once made me weak, the same one I had kissed before. But now, it terrified me. Because it wasn’t a smile of amusement. It was the smile of a man unraveling .

My stomach clenched. My pulse throbbed so hard I thought I might be sick.

“I put a gun to my head after what I did to you,” he murmured, his lips parting like the words were scraping up his throat. “But I couldn’t shoot.” His bloody hand reached up, fingers tracing my cheek, leaving smears of crimson along my skin. “I couldn’t, Adela. I needed to make it right.”

My heart pounded, my body tense beneath his touch. I was afraid. But something inside me–the part that had always been reckless, the part that had always wanted him despite every red flag and warning…ached. Rafe Vaughan was a sickness. And I was infected.

“I’ve never been so obsessed with a woman before.” His forehead nearly rested against mine now, his breath warm, uneven. His fingers traced lower, curling around my throat, pressing just enough to remind me of his strength and control.

My lips parted, but I barely managed a sound.

Rafe exhaled sharply, his grip tightening around my throat as his eyes flicked over my face, searching, hunting –before his expression twisted. “How badly did you want it?”

I tensed. “What?”

He stepped closer, and my back pressed harder against the cold wall. His body was burning hot. “Moreau,” he growled. “How badly did you want it, Adela?”

Ice slid down my spine. His words were angry but also held something else that nearly broke me apart. Heartbreak. Desperation. “I didn’t,” I whispered, shaking my head. “I told you–”

“Bullshit,” he snapped. “He wanted to rip you out of my hands.” His fingers flexed around my throat. “And you almost let him.”

I sucked in a sharp breath, my body rigid. Fuck . Fear gnawed at the edges of my mind.

Rafe’s nostrils flared, his jaw ticking. “Tell me,” he demanded, his voice dropping lower. “How did he touch you?”

I thought about it for a moment but decided against lying. He was a wild animal on the edge. “You fucking saw the extent of it, asshole.”

His grip tightened, and I whimpered. “He touched you,” he murmured darkly, bloody fingers tracing up my thigh. “Here?”

I didn’t even have time to nod before he suddenly grabbing between my thighs.

“And here?”

My chest heaved, and I could only nod weakly. A muscle jumped in his jaw, his eyes flashing with something feral. “He didn’t touch me there. I left!”

Then, suddenly, he crushed his mouth to mine.

I gasped against his lips as his teeth caught my bottom lip, his tongue sliding deep, taking –branding me with the taste of whiskey and something else that was purely him .

His fingers swirled around my clit on the outside of my leggings, and I arched away from it.

A desperate, broken groan tore from my throat.

What the fuck was he doing to me? I was trapped. I was cuffed. What was–

And then he ripped away just as fast, spinning back toward the man in the chair.

And with a sickening crack , it was over.

I flinched violently as the dreadful sound echoed through the basement. A choked noise crawled up my throat. My wrist twisted against the cuff, my eyes darting up to the ceiling as I yelled, “Kieran!” My voice was panicked and desperate.

Rafe only laughed . A mad, untamed sound as he wiped his mouth with the back of his bloodstained hand. His chest rose and fell, his body taut with leftover adrenaline as he turned back to me.

We stared at one another before he rushed me. I gasped as his bloody hand seized my chin, forcing my gaze to his. “Look at me,” he ordered.

I had no choice but to obey .

His eyes burned into mine, so fucking wild, so completely his , and then he kissed me again, harder this time. My body shuddered, my mind warring with itself. Fear and want and madness tangled into one.

And then– click.

The cuff snapped open.

He paused, his lips pulling away just an inch. His breath was heavy as if he were restraining himself from doing anything more to me. I didn’t know if he wanted to hurt me or fuck me. Probably both. But finally, he took a step back.

I staggered forward as Rafe straightened, calling up the stairs, “Kieran.”

Heavy boots descended, and within seconds, Kieran stepped into view, his face a mask of indifference. He barely spared a glance at the body.

“Take her wherever she wants to be,” Rafe said, exhaling heavily, like he’d finally burned through every ounce of energy left in him.

I swallowed hard, throat dry. “My apartment.”

Rafe sighed again, dragging a hand down his face, smearing more blood across his jaw. He looked absolutely unstable.

But his voice was steady as he said, “Fine.” Then his dark gaze flicked to me once more, and his next words sent a chill down my spine. “That’s what happens to men who threaten you. To men who want you like I do.”

And just like that, he turned, his broad frame brushing past me without another word. I stood frozen, my pulse still hammering, my gaze flickering to the lifeless body slumped in the chair.

Then Kieran’s fingers curled around my wrist–not forceful, but firm.

I let him lead me out. But my body still buzzed with adrenaline, with his touch, with his fucking words.

And in that moment, I knew that no matter how far I ran, no matter how much distance I put between us, Rafe Vaughan would never let me go.