Page 20 of Ravaged Saints (BloodHawks Duet #1)

I haven’t left the room, and Dante spent the night here but left early this morning. I heard the guys return shortly after. I’m so used to their whistles to communicate now that I can even identify which one of them does it.

I force myself to move; pulling the sheets down, I see the bloodstains smeared across them from last night. If any of the guys walk in and see this, I’m not explaining, but I’m sure they already know what Dante’s into.

They all seem to know each other too well, probably due to the years of working together and fighting together. At least that’s the idea I have from the little I’ve managed to get out of them. They don’t talk about the past, but, to be fair, neither do I.

Muffled sounds carry from outside the door; it’s Max and Ryker, and I freeze, leaning closer to the closed wooden door of my room to catch what they’re saying.

“Come on, man, are you still pissed?”

Ryker’s tone is soft, and I can hear the hurt laced in it.

“You fucked Bryn!”

Max snaps, loud enough to make me flinch. There’s a thud, like he punched something hard.

“And you fucked !”

Ryker fires back, his words sharp.

“I didn’t fuck her; I made her come. I didn’t put my dick inside her!”

Max shoots back, his tone sharp, but I cringe at the way he says it.

“What the hell is your problem? It wasn’t planned, okay? She just showed up naked!”

Ryker tone cracks like he’s losing control.

My chest tightens. I knew something was going on between them. I’ve seen the way they look at each other—something more than lust.

“I don’t care if it wasn’t planned,”

Max growls. “And when she said she wanted to fuck you with Ethan? You didn’t say no, Ryk, you nod. That’s the fucking problem!”

I hear their footsteps retreat, each thud of their boots growing fainter. A shaky breath escapes me, my back sinking against the door as tension coils in my chest,.

Max has every right to be angry, but Ryker doesn’t seem like the type to screw him over on purpose.

Still, it makes me wonder—what exactly is their relationship?

I peek and don’t see any of them outside, so I head to the bathroom for a quick cold-as-hell shower and get dressed fast. After the situation with Ethan, I want to avoid being by myself for too long. Heading out, I see Ryker walking to the stairs, his feet heavy on the floor and his shoulders sagging.

“Ryker,”

I call, and he turns to face me, his eyes heavy with something sad, and my heart breaks for him.

“Are you okay?” I ask.

His eyes search mine before he lets out a breath. “Kind of.”

“You and Max?”

I press, and he blushes. I smile softly.

“Yeah.”

He drags a hand over his blushed face. "I fucked up." His words come out low and rough, followed by a deep breath.

“Are you guys a couple?”

I step closer, testing the waters.

His eyes widen and he frowns, realizing that I know more than he thought. “Not really,”

he mutters, shaking his head again. “Because of me.”

I pause before admitting, “My youngest brother had a boyfriend.”

Ryker’s eyes snap to mine, startled, but I don’t think it’s because I said my brother had a boyfriend, but because I barely talk about myself with any of them.

“He did?”

He pockets his hands and looks down to the floor again.

I glance up the stairs. This is not the type of conversation to have in the hallway. “Let’s sit outside and talk. What do you think?”

I ask softly, careful not to push too hard.

He nods and gestures for me to lead the way. When we enter the living space, I see Ethan sitting in the living room, but Bryn isn’t with him, and I wonder where she is. They are always together.

Ryker opens the door, and as soon as I step outside, the warm sun hits my skin. I close my eyes for a moment, but I feel Ryker walking up front. I follow him to the wooden bench and table next to the entrance to the bunker.

“He’s not going to forgive me,”

Ryker says heavily as he sits and his eyes avoid mine; the guilt is written all over his face.

“Do you have feelings for Bryn?”

I ask, leaning toward him.

His head snaps up, his gaze sharp. “No, of course not. She’s hot, but that’s it.”

I nod. “Did you tell him that?”

I cup his cheek gently, catching the surprise in his eyes, but I pretend not to notice and continue. “Maybe you should show him. Words are easy, Ryker. Anyone can say them, but actions? That’s how people believe you. That’s how Max will know how you really feel.”

His eyes stay on mine like he is studying every word I’m saying.

“When Knox and Max told us that first day that they wouldn’t hurt us, I didn’t believe them,”

I admit. “I’d already heard those exact words once, and they meant nothing. But the way they acted, the way you all treated us, that’s what showed me I could trust you, that I was safe.”

Something shifts in his expression, and I see it, a light flickering to life in his beautiful eyes. “Show him?”

he murmurs, but I think it’s more to himself than to me.

“Can I ask you something?”

he says, leaning closer.

I nod.

“Was your brother happy? Did your family accept him?”

His voice trembles like he’s unsure he wants the answer.

“They did,”

I say, and I can’t contain the smile on my lips. “They weren’t surprised. We all knew my brother had a thing for a colleague. So when he told us, we supported him. My mom even invited them to dinner the next day.”

I feel the tears forming, but I shake my head. This is not the time…

Ryker chuckles, and I see some of the weight lift from his shoulders. “I think my parents would accept Max and me better than when I told them I was joining the army. They were relieved when I got discharged.”

He shakes his head with amusement.

“I’m sure your parents would love Max,”

I say, smiling softly and reaching for his hand.

“Yeah, I think they would too.”

He squeezes my hand gently before standing. “Thanks, . It’s been a while since I had a heart-to-heart with anyone.”

“Anytime, Ryker.”

I let his hand slip away as he stands up, but before he heads inside, he pauses, turning back to me. “Can I ask you something else?”

“Of course.”

“That guy that—”

He stops, his eyes softening. “How did you escape him?”

My breathing hitches, and I catch Knox and Dante watching me.

“I killed him,”

I say bluntly.

Ryker’s eyes widen before a grin spreads across his face. “Good girl.”

He turns and heads inside. I glance to the side and catch Knox and Dante staring, and I chuckle softly. “If you guys want to know more, you better come closer. I’m not shouting this.”

They exchange a look before making their way over. Dante sits next to me where Ryker had been, while Knox stands in front of me with that strong and commanding pose he does every time, and it drives me insane. There’s something possessive in the way he holds himself.

I clear my throat and shift on the seat, trying to ground myself. I don’t like talking about this, but I think it’s time they know the entire truth. “Cash,”

I begin, taking a deep breath, as his name feels like poison on my lips. “He was the leader of the place we lived in.”

My words tremble as I speak, and Dante’s fingers brush mine before he gently grips my hand. I offer him a soft smile, the warmth in his touch grounding me.

“You don’t have to tell us, ; it’s okay, really,”

he murmurs.

“I want to.”

I force a small laugh, nerves bubbling to the surface. “Let’s call it… therapy.”

I take a deep breath, trying to stop my words from failing me. “My dad died of a heart attack, and my older brother, well, according to Cash, he died during a hunting trip. But honestly?”

My tone drops. “I think Cash killed him to get to me. My brother told me he didn’t feel safe. We were planning to leave, but…”

Knox crosses his arms over his chest, his jaw tightening and vein pulsing in his neck, but he doesn’t interrupt, so I push on, shaking slightly, but the faster I get this out, the better!

“Not even a week after my brother died, Cash ordered his men to take me to his room, and as soon as the door closed, he threw me against a wall so hard I blacked out. When I came to—”

My throat tightens, my breathing grows shallow, and my hands curl into fists. Knox kneels in front of me, cupping my face with his warm hands.

“We know, pet,”

he murmurs calmy but I can see the rage in his eyes. Dante’s hand moves to my back, and he slowly rubs over my shirt, and I close my eyes while taking a deep breath.

I finally nod and gather the courage to continue. “He told me I was his.”

I whisper. “So, the next day, while the men were at dinner, I had one of the other women give him a message, saying I wanted him… in my bedroom. When he came and sat down, I went behind him and slit his throat. I locked the door and ran out. Thankfully they didn’t have all of this to keep us locked inside.”

I try to joke, but tears spill down my cheeks. Knox brushes them away with his thumb, his touch tender despite the storm brewing in his eyes.

“You’re a fucking warrior, ,”

Knox growls with anger and pride.

“I ran for days, maybe weeks, before they finally gave up after they ran into another group,”

I straighten, trying to regain control of my emotions.

“And you’ve been on your own since then?”

Dante asks, his hand still resting on my lower back, his warmth anchoring me.

“Four years, I think,”

I admit, shrugging slightly. “I went from town to town, living in the forest, doing whatever I had to do to survive—”

My gaze flicks between them, the tension heavy. “Until I ended up in your trap.” I chuckle softly, waving my hand between them.

“You were the best damn thing we ever caught,”

Knox says with a smirk and a wink, but his eyes betray him; they are filled with shadows.

I know they’re worried, but for the first time in a long time, I feel safe, and it’s all because of them.

“Your turn,”

I say, letting my eyes roam over both of them, and Knox stands, his posture even more tense now, his black shirt pulling at the seams as he rolls his shoulders.

“What do you mean?”

His words fall low, the cold, commanding edge creeping back into his tone, his gaze sharpening as the tension thickens.

“I’d love to know more about you guys,”

I say softly, batting my lashes in a playful attempt to coax something out of them.

Dante glances at Knox, who gives a faint shake of his head, but Dante takes a deep breath. “We used to be in a special unit. Our captain was Knox’s training officer, and when a new unit was needed for undercover missions, he chose Knox as the leader. Knox agreed with the condition that he could pick his team.”

I nod, leaning in as my curiosity grows. It makes sense now; they weren’t just regular soldiers.

Knox exhales, his hands resting on the pockets of his cargo pants. “I met Max years before, during a mission. We stayed in touch. He was in the British special forces, so when the time came, I called him and asked him to join. Max had already known Dante for years. They served together in a joint force in Canada.”

“And Ryker?” I ask.

Knox lets out a low chuckle. “I trained Ryker. He was young back then but easily the best recon and sniper I’d ever seen, so I brought him with me. We stayed in the unit for two years.”

“The Bloodhawks? Did you train here?”

I ask, noticing how their expressions darken.

“Not exactly,”

Dante answers as Knox turns away, pacing, the muscles in his back more tense than I’ve ever seen them.

“We were given a mission from our captain, Roman,”

Dante continues, “and it led to the death of someone… important. After that, we were discharged.”

His hands clench, the muscles in his jaw tightening.

“Oh,”

I murmur, my brain going a hundred miles, “I’m sorry.”

“We each went our separate ways for a while,”

Dante says, his gaze dropping. “But life outside the army was hell. It’s all we’d ever known since we were eighteen. Civilian life… it didn’t fit us. Knox had contacts, though, and he reached out. There was a need for a unit—”

“Dante, don’t,”

Knox interrupts, his tone sharp, and he turns to face Dante, fists clenched at his sides.

“She deserves to know,”

Dante says defiantly. Then he looks at me and blurts out, “We became mercenaries.”

My jaw drops. “Mercenaries?”

The word hangs in the air.

A chill runs down my spine, my mind racing. That’s a bad thing. A terrible thing. They’re killers for hire, right? My heart pounds, a knot of fear tightening in my stomach, but deep down, I know—they will never hurt me.

“Doll?”

Dante’s voice pulls me from my thoughts, and I blink, nodding for him to continue.

“We never took missions that would harm innocents,”

he assures me. I want to believe him, but Knox’s expression makes me second-guess. His nickname has never felt more fitting.

“With the money from our first missions, we built this place,”

Knox cuts in. “Completely off the grid, hidden from the world and safe from anyone looking to settle old scores. When the plague hit, we tried to reach our families…”

His tone falters for just a second before he shrugs. “But no one survived.”

“So you stayed here,”

I whisper, finishing the thought for them.

They nod. I get it; after the plague, people went crazy. It was war after war, everyone for themselves. If I had a place like this, I’d never leave it.

“And what about Ethan?”

I ask. He acts so differently from the rest of the guys that I can’t see Knox choosing him.

They both chuckle.

“Well, Ethan was a rich kid whose father thought the army would toughen him up,”

Dante says with a shrug.

“He served on the same base under the same captain just right before everything went to shit,”

He pauses for a moment, his eyes shifting as if remembering. “After the plague hit, we found Ethan in a nearby town, half-dead and barely clinging to life. We took him back to the base, patched him up, and... well, he never left. Stayed with us since.”

Dante’s eyes flick to Knox, who looks lost in thought staring into the distance, and my heart breaks for him.

“Knox still blames himself for that mission.”

I glance at Knox, and he turns with a smirk, “I’m right here, man,”

he mutters, shaking his head, “I should’ve known something was wrong.”

“No one could have known the real extent of what was about to happen. Knox, you saved us all, and that’s all that matters.”

Dante stands and claps Knox on the back, but I see the tension in Knox’s jaw and the stiffness in his shoulders, so I step closer, reaching up to wrap my arms around his neck, pulling him down to me.

“I don’t know exactly what happened, but I’m pretty sure it wasn’t your fault.“ He lets me pull him in, and his arms wrap around my waist. I kiss him softly at first, but he hardens it instantly, taking control like I knew he would. Knox isn’t gentle; he is rough, strong, and menacing, and that’s exactly why I like him.

I grip his hair and pull, making him hiss. He leans closer, his warm breath on my ear, “Don’t play with fire, pet.”

I smirk, already forming a plan to unwind him. Then, without warning, I shove him hard, and he stumbles back, eyes flaring with surprise.

I turn to Dante. “Open the gate.”

“What?”

Dante chuckles, eyebrows raising.

“I’m going to burn that rage out of you, Reaper.”

I purr, eyes locked on Knox.

Knox straightens, and I can see the exact moment he realizes what I mean. His hands clench into fists at his sides, and his expression shifts, more feral, more hungry.

“Open the fucking gate, Dante,”

he orders, his tone dropping into something dark and raw, and a chill runs down my spine straight to my pussy.

Dante shakes his head but punches in the code and steps aside, pulling the metal gate open.

I turn to see Knox rolling his shoulders and cracking his neck. “I’ll give you a count of ten, pet. Use them.”

Oh, shit.

“One.”

His growls, and I bolt.

Dante snickers behind me. “You better run fast, doll, or the big bad wolf’s gonna eat you alive.”

Running as fast as I can, I make sure to stay in the safe zones. I want him to chase me, to claim me like the animal I know he is.

I crouch behind a tree, and my breathing is shallow, heart pounding.

“Ten!”

His voice slices through the trees, and it’s followed by the thunder of his boots against the dirt, and my heart skips a beat.

Shit.

I keep running, jumping over roots, dodging branches, and my body thrums with adrenaline. I slide behind a bush, covering my mouth to keep any sound from escaping. My pulse beats so hard I swear he can hear it.

“As-pen.”

He sings my name, and I peek through the leaves and spot him, standing tall, a wicked grin stretching his lips. He’s enjoying this more than I expected.

I dart out.

"There you are." He grunts, deep and rich.

I grab a handful of dirt and leaves, tossing them behind me.

"Fuck." He grunts, and I laugh, sprinting deeper into the woods.

"Oh, pet," he chuckles, his tone dipping into something dark and promising. "You are going to pay for that."

A shiver rolls through me, but it’s not fear.

"." His words slither through the trees, sharp and taunting. "If I catch you, I fuck you. And I won’t be gentle."

“Oh, God.

I spin, trying to pinpoint his location, but—

“Looking for me, pet?”

I turn, and there he is, standing still, his chest rising and falling in an infuriatingly steady rhythm, while I feel like my lungs are about to collapse.

I don’t hesitate. I bolt.

His boots pound the earth, each step closer, louder, until—

I don’t even see him before his body collides with mine and we hit the ground, but he twists at the last second, taking the impact so I land on top of him.

“Caught you, pet.”

I thrash, but it’s useless; he’s unmovable, a mountain of muscle!

A dark chuckle rumbles from his chest before he flips me onto my stomach, pinning me against the dirt, and my cheek presses into the leaves.

He yanks my jeans down in one swift motion, and I struggle, but his legs part mine with nothing more than a shift of his weight.

His hand captures both of mine, pinning them above my head.

“Good girl,”

he groans, his free hand gliding down. I hear his belt unbuckling and the zipper moving. He groans, and I feel the tip of his cock at my entrance. “Already wet and ready to take my cock!”

I barely have time to suck in a breath before he thrusts in, and I cry out, feeling every piercing on his length stretching me, claiming me.

“You can handle it…take me like a good girl.”

His hips snap forward, his teeth sinking into my neck, and the sharp bite of pain melts with the unbearable pleasure, making me moan.

“Reaper.”

“Fuck.”

He groans, his rhythm turning brutal. “You drive me fucking feral when you call me that.”

His thrusts grow erratic, deeper, and rougher, his piercings dragging over something inside me that makes my entire body tighten.

I glance up at my wrists, held in his iron grip, veins bulging, knuckles white.

I did this to him.

I made him lose control.

That thought alone shoves me over the edge.

His free hand grips my hip, holding me in place as he pounds into me, his breath ragged, his sounds nothing but growls and curses.

“You wanted this — now fucking take it.”

He rolls his hips, the piercings on his cock twisting inside me in a way that makes my body jolt, and I can’t even begin to understand the sensation because it’s all so overwhelming, consuming, setting every nerve on fire. My breath comes in ragged gasps, my body trembling as the pressure builds higher and higher.

“Harder,”

I whimper. I need him to make it hurt!

Knox growls low in his throat, a dark, pleased sound, and obeys. He thrusts so hard that our bodies drag across the dirt, but I don’t care. I can only focus on the way he’s wrecking me. My nails dig into the earth as he grinds his hips again before pulling out just enough to slam back in, and the sudden, brutal stretch tips me over the edge. The orgasm crashes through me like a violent storm, ripping the breath from my lungs, vision whitening out, and my entire body locks up before shattering.

I cry out, my walls clenching around him, and Knox groans, his rhythm faltering, and he thrusts deep one last time, his cock pulsing as he spills inside me, his breath hot against my shoulder.

“Fuck, ,”

he rasps, leaning into me; his body is still trembling. “You’re gonna give me a fucking heart attack.”

I wince as he pulls out, my body still sensitive, and he catches it immediately.

“Does it hurt?”

His tone shifts, less predator and more concern.

“Just a little,”

I murmur, turning slowly and brushing dirt from my face and tangled hair.

Knox tucks his cock back into his cargo pants before reaching out, his fingers plucking leaves from my hair. “Want me to carry you, pet?”

he asks, a proud, satisfied grin stretching across his face.

I smirk, legs still shaky, his cum dripping into my panties as I push them up along with my jeans, but I refuse to let him win that easily. “I think I can walk.”

His grin widens, his eyes still full of heat. “That means I need to fuck you harder next time,”

he purrs, dripping with lust.

A fresh wave of heat rolls through me, and my body is already telling me it’s ready for another round.

Why the hell am I always this horny around them? Oh, right. Because they fuck like the devil’s own disciples — brutal, merciless, and addictive.