Page 6 of Revenge Saints (BloodHawks Duet #2)

I storm into the woods behind the house, each breath ragged, like I’m trying to breathe through broken glass. The trees blur around me, the cold air burning in my lungs. I can’t fucking breathe.

What the fuck is wrong with me?

I’ve held it together for her, for the others, but I’m cracking now, splintering under the weight of it all. Rage floods my chest, and I swing hard, my fist slamming into the nearest tree. Bark rips through skin, blood smearing into dirt, pain flaring up my arm, but I welcome it. I fucking need it.

Dante’s gone. Bryn’s dead. Aspen’s breaking. And I wasn’t enough to stop any of it.

I rest my head against the tree, jaw clenched tight.

Fuck!

For Dante, I have to stay sharp. Focused. He’s everything now, my brother, my fight, my fucking priority.

But Aspen… She’s going to try something reckless; I know it. That fire in her eyes? That rage? She’ll throw herself into the flames if it means getting him back.

No. That’s not her place. This war belongs to us. To me.

Roman’s a dead man walking. I’ll have his head on a spike, on a plate—I don’t give a fuck—before the week’s over. Even if it costs me everything. Even if it costs me my life.

She’ll have Dante back. Because that’s who she wants. Not me. Not Max or Ryker. It’s always been him.

Fuck!

The thought guts me worse than any blade ever could.

“Knox,” her voice shatters the silence like a gunshot.

I spin around, and there she is, limping toward me, face streaked with tears, fury in every line of her body. Fuck, no. My chest caves in.

“Aspen,” I reach for her, but she lifts her hand and slaps me so hard my head jerks sideways, the sting blooming across my cheek.

“Fucking hell!” I grunt, standing tall, hand rubbing my jaw, but I don’t move toward her. I watch. Wait .

She doesn’t flinch, doesn’t back down, and her eyes are blazing.

“Never. Ever.” She stalks closer, grabs the collar of my shirt, and fists it tight. “Fucking say it should’ve been you.”

She sobs, breaking through her chest. “It shouldn’t be any of you! I’d die if it was you, do you hear me?! ”

She collapses forward, her knees buckling. I catch her before she hits the ground, dragging her into my arms, holding her so damn close . I’m afraid she’ll vanish.

“Aspen…” I breathe into her ear, shaking.

“I love you.” She whispers.

I freeze.

No fucking way.

My chest goes still, and my lungs lock up. Did she just…?

I tip her chin up, needing to see her eyes. “What?”

They’re red, wet with more than tears; there’s fury there, heartbreak, hope . Her cheeks are blotchy, her mouth trembling, but she doesn’t back down.

“Aspen, you love Dante,”

She shoves me. Not hard, but enough to jolt me. I let her. Hell, I welcome it. If this is how she wants to let out the rage, let it be on me. Let it fucking hurt.

“Just Dante?” She snaps, shoving me again. “What, you think everything we did didn’t mean anything?”

Her eyes widen. “Oh my God… I’m so fucking stupid.” She stumbles back as if the realization just hit her like a knife in her gut.

“Aspen!” I snap, louder now, rough like gravel. I see where her mind is going, and I won’t let her go there .

I storm toward her, and she tries to back away, limping, but she’s not fast enough, not with that leg. I close the distance, grip her face in my hands, and force her to look at me.

Her eyes, fuck, those eyes, they’re shattered.

“It didn’t mean anything to you,” she whispers, broken.

No. Fuck no.

I crash my mouth to hers, not gentle, not soft . She fights it, her fists beating against my chest, but I don’t let her go. I deepen the kiss, raw and bruising, my tongue parting her lips like I’m starving for her. Because I am.

This girl… this woman… She’s mine, ours.

She melts into me, arms wrapping around my neck, her fight dissolving as I hold her close. Her body softens and sinks into mine, and I finally pull back, panting against her lips.

“Don’t ever think you don’t mean anything, Aspen.” I stare at her. “You’re the only thing keeping me fucking sane right now. You’re my safe harbor. My tether. My everything . ”

I kiss her again, desperate and rough, her tears hot between us.

Fuck, I need her.

She leans away, chest rising and falling like she just ran through fire, eyes locked on mine. No more tears now, but something else burns in them.

“I,” She stutters, cheeks flushing that perfect red.

“You what, pet?” I growl against her throat, stepping in until there’s no space left between us. One hand curls around the back of her neck, anchoring her, as I kiss her there, then drag my teeth over her skin just enough to make her shiver .

“I need you,”

Her breath hitches. She still struggles to say the words, to ask for what she wants.

My hand slides down to her ass, and I grab it, hard. She gasps.

“You need me to what , huh?” I don’t stop my mouth. I kiss her, bite her, tongue dragging over her pulse as her whimper escapes.

“I,” Another moan, breathy and helpless.

I smile against her skin and press her tighter to me. I want her to feel it, how hard I am for her, how fucking ready I am to fuck her.

Her eyes fly open, lips parted, breath shallow.

“Tell me what you want.” I want her to say it. I need her to use those lips and tell me exactly what she wants from me.

She hesitates. I let go of her just enough to feel the shift, her brows drawn together, that fire in her eyes coming back. And there it is, the anger in her face.

“I want you to fuck me,” she blurts, cheeks still red, but her voice doesn’t shake. It’s steady and fierce.

“Good girl.”

I say it like I’m in control. Like this is just about fucking. But my chest is caving in, because deep down, I know it’s more; it’s a way to cope, to forget the shit we are in, even if just for a few hours.

I scoop her into my arms, careful with her leg, her body melting into mine like she was made to fit here.

She hides her face in my neck, but I stop at the front door. I lean in close, my mouth brushing her ear.

“Don’t be shy now, pet… One of these days, you’re going to fuck all of us at the same time.”

Her head snaps up, eyes wide, mouth falling open in that perfect little ‘O’, and fuck, it’s too good. I let out a low laugh. She’s still gaping when I walk in.

I make the joke because I know it’ll snap her out of the spiral. I smirk like I’m fine. Like I’m not thinking about how much pain she’s hiding under that fire.

I carry her in like I’m strong enough for both of us. Maybe if I pretend long enough, I will be.

Max and Ryker glance up from the couch. Ryker’s hunched over the table, sketching the base from memory, the layout detailed like only he can do.

I nod once, and they both smirk.

“Enjoy your evening, Aspen,” Ryker says with amusement.

She tenses, then lifts her head like a queen. She meets their eyes. “I will. Make sure you two do too.”

She buries her face again. “I can’t believe I just said that.” And I hold a laugh in, trying not to piss her off.

I kick the door open and carry her in, laying her gently on the bed before turning to close it. My eyes flick to the wood for a second, but my thoughts are everywhere.

I want to bury myself in her. Right now. But I can’t, not with her leg like that.

It’s too dangerous. I’m on the fucking edge here, and if I lose control, I’ll pull her too hard, grip her wrong, and tear open her stitches. And that, I’d never forgive myself for.

“Knox?” Her whisper yanks me back.

I turn, and there she is, sitting up on the bed. Her wounded leg is stretched straight, the other bent casually. And fuck me, those nipples, hard and begging under that shirt. My jaw clenches.

“Aspen…” I drag a hand down my face. “I can’t fuck you.”

She nods like she knew I’d say that. No pushback. No pouty tantrum. Just… acceptance.

I sit beside her, my fingers brushing the hair from her face. She’s so damn beautiful like this, unguarded, flushed, still full of fire despite the pain.

“Don’t think I don’t want to,” I growl, cupping her chin and tilting her head up. “You felt how hard I am for you. But your leg’s still torn up, and if I lose it when I’m inside you… I might hurt you. I’d tear those stitches open fucking you hard.”

“Oh.” It’s a soft sound from her lips. Then a smirk flickers across her mouth before she hides it behind a little pout.

I laugh and shake my head. “ But I’ll still make you come, pet.”

Her eyes catch mine, blazing and wild. I rise from the bed slowly.

“Lie down. Take your jeans off.”

She obeys, and fuck if that doesn’t make me harder. She moves slowly, carefully, but there’s nothing shy about the way her eyes burn into me while peeling those jeans down.

Her skin glows in the candlelight, smooth and tempting like sin dipped in honey.

“Good girl.”

I climb onto the bed, kneeling between her legs. My hands skim her knees, then up her thighs. She whimpers softly, her body already trembling .

I lean in, fingers ghosting toward her panties.

“Nervous?” I tease with amusement.

She huffs, chin tilted. “Of course not. Your hands are cold.”

I chuckle darkly. “Right. Let me warm them up.”

I hook my fingers in her panties and slide them down.

And holy fuck , the sight of her, laid out like that, bare and glistening in front of me? It’s driving me up the damn walls.

My fingers slide over her pussy, and fuck, she’s already soaked. Her breath hitches.

“I can’t wait to taste you.” I growl, dragging my lips down her belly slowly. I kiss just above her pussy, then lower, pressing a hard, claiming kiss right on her clit before swiping my tongue over it slowly, but deep enough to make her arch off the bed.

“Knox…” she gasps like a broken whisper.

I keep circling her clit with my tongue, lapping up every drop as if she’s my last goddamn meal. Her thighs tremble, hips twitching. When I brush my fingers against her entrance, she grinds down, needy, desperate to be filled.