Page 8 of Ravaged Saints (BloodHawks Duet #1)

I’m pacing the room like a damn lunatic, my mind racing with questions I can’t answer. Did I really just kiss Max and Dante? What the hell is wrong with me?

I need to get out of this room. My hands won’t stop shaking, my stomach keeps twisting, and my skin feels too hot, like I’ve been burned from the inside out.

I’ve kissed before. College make-outs in dark dorm rooms; they were sloppy, forgettable encounters that meant nothing. But this? What Max and Dante did to me—that wasn’t just a kiss. That was something different, something… dangerous.

And the worst part? My body wants more.

Groaning, I throw myself onto the mattress and bury my face in the covers. Those damn magazines are getting to me, putting ideas in my head; stupid, ridiculous ideas. I should’ve stuck to the boring car ones, or maybe the guns. At least those wouldn’t make me feel like I’m suffocating under the weight of… whatever this is.

I lift my head, glaring at the closet. The magazines are still in there, stacked neatly like they’re mocking me. I should ignore them. Pretend they don’t exist, but instead, I feel that familiar pull, that stupid urge to grab another one.

With a sigh, I drag myself off the bed, my resolve crumbling as I snatch the next magazine from the stack.

Oh, this is going to be bad.

I flip it open and skim the page, my eyes catching on the first bold heading.

A laugh slips out before I can stop it. Right. Protective and nurturing? That’s about as far from this group as it gets. I can’t picture any of them holding someone close and murmuring sweet nothings.

The next one catches my attention.

My stomach clenches a little, and I roll my eyes. Maybe Max fits the “authoritative”

part with his sharp commands and piercing stares. But formal? Not a chance.

I skim past the next one quickly.

Nope. Not touching that thought with a ten-foot pole.

The fourth description makes my breath catch.

Knox’s smirk flashes in my mind, the way his eyes burned when he cornered me in the woods, but I shake my head, pushing the thought away. That doesn’t mean anything. It doesn’t. I’m projecting what I’m reading into the guys. They were soldiers; of course they are more dominant than the men I knew, right? Right!

Oh my God, I’m talking to myself now…

I force myself to read the last one, but it doesn’t help.

My throat tightens; oh, come on! That’s Knox! The way he chased me, pinned me down like I was prey and he was the predator, the way his breathing deepened like he was savoring every second of the hunt like it was a game.

I drop the magazine onto the bed, the heat in my cheeks unbearable. “This is ridiculous,”

I mutter, pressing the heels of my hands to my face, but even as I try to convince myself, my body betrays me.

My fingers brush the edge of the magazine again, curiosity clawing at me. What’s wrong with me?

I hesitate before flipping to the next page. My heart is racing again, like I’m stepping into dangerous territory just by reading this stuff.

I skim the first one.

A laugh bubbles up before I can stop it. Well, that’s definitely not me. I don’t go around challenging authority, do I? I bite my lip, suddenly remembering the way Knox forced me to eat and called me a brat, and my stomach twists. That’s just a word people use, right? It doesn’t mean anything! It’s not sexual or whatever this is!

I move on quickly.

Nope. That’s not me either.

The next one stops me in my tracks.

Bryn’s face pops into my head, and I can’t help but smirk. If anyone fits that description, it’s her with the way she flirts and tries to keep everyone happy.

My eyes skim down to the next.

I wince. No, not my thing. Why would someone enjoy pain?

The next one makes me pause.

I snort and shake my head. Nope. But I can’t help noticing how much these labels make me second-guess everything.

The list goes on, each description poking at my already frayed nerves.

I slam the magazine shut, the sound echoing through the quiet room. “This is insane; I’m going insane,”

I mutter to myself, pressing my fingers to my temples.

I take a deep breath, trying to calm the storm brewing inside me. I need some air. I need something to do before I lose my mind here. They can’t keep me locked up forever, right?

I glance toward the door, my resolve wavering. I’ve been good. I haven’t tried to run, and honestly, right now, I don’t think I want to. Bryn was right about one thing: we’re safer here. Even if they’re men, even if they make my head spin with their stupid smirks and damn sexy voices… they’ve been respectful. They haven’t crossed any lines.

Well… Max and Dante did cross some lines, but they’re the lines I was more than eager to cross too.

Dante asked if I wanted to kiss Max, and I didn’t say no. The way Max leaned into me, not touching me with anything but his lips… God, he smelled so good and tasted so sweet. His lips were soft, too soft for someone like him, and those hazel green eyes—how they locked on mine while his tongue teased me—made me melt.

I grab the water bottle from the nightstand, unscrew the cap, and pour a bit onto my face. The cool shock helps, but only a little because my mind won’t stop racing back to Dante when he rose to his full height, towering over me, his hand gripping my ass. I don’t think I’ve ever been wetter. The heat of his body, the hardness pressing against my stomach—it should’ve made me panic, but instead, I wanted him. I wanted them both.

I shove the magazines from hell back into the closet, hiding them under the blankets, and hopefully from my mind too, although I think the damage is done.

I take a deep breath and head straight to the door. Knocking loudly, I yell, “Can someone open this door?”

I repeat it three times before I hear footsteps approach, and the lock clicks. I step back as the door opens, revealing Dante standing there with a devilish smile.

“Yes, doll?”

“I need to shower,”

I say too quickly, and his delicious, devilish smile widens—Oh , stop!

Dante nods. “And then I want to talk to Knox,”

I add firmly.

“Of course.”

He steps aside, motioning toward the bathroom, and I walk past him, feeling his eyes on me. He leans against the wall outside, arms crossed over his broad chest. Dante is built like a damn bull—wider than Knox but not quite as tall. His messy dark hair gives him a chaotic look, though he’s anything but chaotic.

Walking in, I enter the shower part, leaving my clothes outside on the bench near Dante. I turn on the tap, letting the cold water hit my skin like ice. It’s cold as ice, but I don’t mind. I need it to calm the fire under my skin. When the water warms, I let out a soft moan. It feels so good. I’ve been on edge all day because of those magazines, and those kisses with Max and Dante haven’t helped.

I know Dante is right outside, and for a second, I close my eyes. My hand drifts down, brushing against my clit. I’m so sensitive it sends a jolt through me, but I shake my head, pulling my hand away. I can’t do this, not with him standing just outside the door.

Frustrated, I finish washing up and grab the towel. Wrapping it around me, I call out, “I need to get dressed. Can you turn around?”

I hear a low chuckle. “Of course, .”

I hear some movement. “You can come out.”

The showers are huge. They can fit all of us at the same time, but it’s impossible to dress in here since the water hits everything.

Peeking through the door, I see him standing with his back to me, muscles flexing beneath his shirt. My eyes trail lower, and—God—he has such a nice ass that I would love to bite. Oh my fucking God! , stop!

I wonder if he has that sharp V-line on his hips like Ryker does.

I shake my head; I can’t stop!

“Is everything all right?”

Dante asks, and I almost trip, startled that he might’ve caught me staring.

“Yes! Just getting dressed, don’t turn yet,”

I say, rushing to pull on my shirt and jeans.

He doesn’t turn, doesn’t say a word about what happened earlier, and I don’t know how I feel about that.

“I’m done,”

I say, trying to keep my voice from wavering.

He turns, his hazel eyes locking on mine before flicking down to my lips. Goddamn.

I take a shaky breath, and he notices. The corner of his mouth lifts in a smirk as he gestures toward the stairs. “Let’s see Knox.”

Walking ahead of him, I feel my skin burn, knowing full well he’s staring at me—probably at my ass, I hope.

Wait, why do I hope? I close my eyes for a second, taking a deep breath. I’m ovulating; I have to be!

When we reach the living room, Knox is sitting with Ryker and Max, but Bryn and Ethan are nowhere to be seen, though from the moans earlier, I can guess what they’re doing.

I get it, girl, I get it!

For the first time since we arrived, I understand Bryn.

“Hey, Reaper!”

Dante calls out.

I hate that nickname, but it suits him like a glove.

Knox looks up from some papers, his eyes narrowing slightly before widening when they land on me.

“What?”

His words slice through the air, sharp and unforgiving. My heart stutters, and whatever courage I had drains away as my feet move instinctively, turning me toward my room.

“Easy, doll,”

Dante murmurs, his hand resting on my hip. “He barks but doesn’t bite.”

He pauses, smirking. “Much.”

I take a deep breath and turn back around. Knox is standing now, his presence filling the room. The open space feels smaller with him in it, and everyone’s eyes are on me.

“I…”

I stammer, but Dante’s hand presses gently into my side, grounding me.

Knox’s blue eyes flick down to where Dante’s hand rests, his brow furrowing slightly. He steps closer, and my breathing quickens.

“What do you want, pet?”

His words drop low, deep and commanding, his gaze locking onto me with a steady, unyielding intensity, and I feel heat crawl up my neck.

“I want to ask if, starting tomorrow, I can do something—help out.”

My hand gestures vaguely.

He tilts his head, exchanging a glance with Dante.

“Do something?”

He crosses his arms over his chest, his stance wide, towering over everyone, commanding not just attention but fear. My fear.

“I’m good at farming,”

I blurt. “I had seeds in my bag—”

“You think I’m going to let you roam around freely? Give you another chance to run?”

Knox laughs darkly. “No fucking way, .”

“So I’m just going to stay locked in the damn room for the rest of my life? Is that the idea?”

I snap, crossing my arms.

Knox smirks, his eyes dragging over me before flicking to Dante, like this is amusing to him.

“Watch your tone, .”

He steps closer, the heat of his presence overwhelming as his eyes narrow, his posture shifting to one that exudes control and warning.

Hearing my name on his lips sends a shiver down my spine, but I force myself to hold my ground. My heart races, but I lift my chin anyway.

“Or what?”

I push, stepping forward. “You are going to lock me up? Control my eating and peeing schedule?”

My voice rises. “Guess what? You already do!”

“,”

Knox groans, his stance widening like he’s trying to rein himself in.

“What?”

I throw my hands up. “You don’t scare me, Knox!”

I stand my ground, defiant. To hell with this—I have nothing to lose.

“Fuck,”

Max mumbles from the couch.

Knox steps even closer. Our bodies stand inches apart from each other.

“So?”

I ask, crossing my arms over my breast.

“Let’s give her another chance, Reaper,”

Max says, walking over, hands in his pockets. He smiles at me, and I stare at him, the kiss coming to mind.

“She’s been eating, staying quiet, obeying,”

Dante adds, drawing out the last word, and a shiver runs down my spine.

“So you have two in your corner, huh?”

Knox smirks, his eyes never leaving mine. He is towering over me, muscles tense, but I don’t move an inch, facing him, knowing damn well that a simple slap from him would send me flying across the room.

Knox lets out a breath. “Fine. But you two are keeping an eye on her at all times. No exceptions.”

They both nod, smirking.

“Good,”

I say coldly, turning on my heel and heading for the stairs.

“Fucking brat,”

Knox mutters under his breath.

I smirk. If he wants to play, we’ll play! I think I need to dig more into those magazines. They might actually help.

As I reach the door, I feel Dante behind me, “Just getting the tray, doll.”

He walks to the dresser, and I lean my back against the cool wall, watching him.

He stops like he can feel my eyes burning his back.