Page 31 of Scarlet Mark

I watched it all from the ground, too stunned from the bombs he’d thrown to move. My ears were still ringing from the impact.

The angel of death beside me hadn’t been affected at all. Danger oozed from his aura, flooding the car and scattering goose bumps down my arms.

Amir terrified me.

Malcom angered me.

Killian intrigued me.

It made no sense. I should be terrified, pleading for my life, begging him to leave me somewhere. It was partly why I tried to run, my body too damn conflicted for my own sanity. Because seeing him single-handedly take down all those men had melted me into a hot puddle ofneed. And the wrongness of it had sent me fleeing.

Only to have him stop me with an act that just turned me on more.

This is so fucked up.

He wanted me to talk, to tell him things I could never say out loud, and I had no doubt he would resort to torture if needed. Killian exuded a calm demeanor, but I’d seen the real him back there. A feral beast lurked beneath his elegant veneer.

I wanted to stroke him. To play. To lick every inch of him.

My thighs clenched at the thought, my abdomen churning. Maybe it was the energy of the moment, the residual effects post-battle, but I craved a bite of his animalistic nature. It would be dark and sinful and would very likely hurt. Yet I didn’t care.

“Are you hungry?” he asked, his deep voice exciting me more.

“Yes,” I whispered.But not for food.

“Good.”

That one word left me so hot I almost moaned. Jesus, he’d messed me up in the worst way. Or perhaps it was the best way. I didn’t know, but I needed to get a grip on myself.

He killed at least twenty men.

And Boris.

My lips curled at that last one. Death never bothered me, having been well acquainted with it all my life. But I’d never been one toenjoyit.

Until today.

All those assholes deserved their fates. Especially Boris. My only regret was the swiftness with which Killian had ended their lives.

I’d warned him that Malcom would betray him. Fortunately, Killian realized it in time and handled the situation.

Still, it shocked me. A broken part of me had just accepted that all those men were there to teach me a lesson. Sure, it was extreme. However, Malcom adored his punishments, and I’d definitely infuriated him by running off.

I shivered, recalling the dreaded day.

Our wedding day.

“Look at you, all dressed in white.” Boris’s silky drawl sent a chill down my spine.

I refused to acknowledge him. He might read the plan in my eyes, and then I’d be trapped with nowhere to go.

This had to work.

There was no other way.

Malcom was officially distracted, his duty to his ego greater than his duty to guard me. All of his political associates—the legal ones—were here today. He wouldn’t make a violent scene with all those cameras and eyes on him.

And he’d be too busy saving face afterward to track me right away. It provided the perfect cover, the time I needed, to run.