Page 109 of The Ecstasy of Sin

I move, unseen and unheard, as I stalk the man circling the back of the cabin. Once he’s well out of view, I emerge from the trees and close in on him.

I withdraw my dagger in one smooth, practiced motion as I slide up behind him. I follow him, step for step, until he stops in his tracks.

I exhale the breath in my lungs, then strike. One hand wraps around his face to cover his mouth, pulling his head back to expose his neck. Like an artist with a brush, my blade slashes across his throat in one beautiful, savage arc.

When I drag the blade, I drag it deep. My blood-starved dagger cleaves through flesh, muscle and cartilage; opening his carotid artery and ruining his trachea. His blood sprays, glittering black in the darkness.

His body spasms and his hand claws at mine, then drops to press at the perfect slit in his gaping throat.

He gurgles, a wet and violent sound, as blood and spit explode behind my palm.

His body grows heavy with the weight of death, his legs folding beneath him. I let him fall to his knees, then bring the pommel of my dagger down on the crown of his head with enough force to fracture his skull.

His unconscious body slumps forward, falling face-first into the dirt. Red blooms beneath him in a macabre display, soaking the soil as he suffocates and bleeds to death.

I keep moving, only to pause when I hear footsteps on the gravel from the direction I just came.

“Yuri! Finish your smoke, we need to call Dimitri.”

My attention focuses on him as he rounds the corner, his beady little eyes widening at the sight of his buddy laying dead on the ground. “What the fu—”

Before he can finish his sentence, I throw my dagger. It whistles through the air and lodges deep into his eye socket, piercing straight into the brain.

I’m already sprinting toward him as he stumbles backward, shell-shocked. His mouth is agape, his remaining eye wide and unseeing.

I reach him in seconds, and slam into him. With one hand covering his mouth, we fall to the ground. I drive my knee into his gut, and push the blade as deep as it will go—then twist. He’s silent and motionless in an instant, and when I pull my blade free, a rush of pleasure courses through me as his hot blood sprays across my throat and chest.

There’s no time to savor the carnage. Rising to my feet, I wipe my blade on the heavy material of my pants as I move around the side of the building and set my sights on the remaining man outside.

I position myself behind him, then tap on his shoulder. When he turns, I drive my bloodied blade up through the bottom of his jaw, straight through the soft tissue of the floor of his mouth, and up into his skull.

I smile as his eyes widen, then droop. A mist of blood sprays all over me as I remove my blade, and the man falls like a puppet with its strings cut, collapsing at my feet.

I lift my hand, wiping away a chunk of clotted blood clinging to my jaw, before turning toward the house.

The closer I get to the front door, the clearer the sounds inside become. She’s scared, and she’s crying, and it reaches through the fog of violence and pleasure, wrapping around my heart like a fist.

Wren’s tears are the sweetest sin, but only when they fall for me.

Whoever is inside with her is about to die. But not before I make them bleed. One fucking drop for every tear they made her cry.

CHAPTER 28

Wren

Painexplodesbehindmyeyes, dragging me out of unconsciousness. A fist slams into my stomach, and an agonized scream leaves me as acid crawls up my throat.

“Rise and fucking shine, bitch.”

My eyes flutter open, blurry and unfocused. I groan, slumping forward in the chair I’m tied to, my belly cramping from the strike.

My head swims, followed by a wave of nausea. I swallow against the urge to vomit, trying to make sense of everything through the brain fog still gripping me.

Blinking rapidly, I lift my gaze and lock eyes with a pair of brown ones looming in front of me. They’re set in a face that’s contorted with hatred, and I can’t understand why.

I’m no one, I’ve done nothing bad to anyone in my twenty-five years of life. I have no idea who this man is, or why he hates me so much.

I wince, and my mind tries to reorient itself. Memories come flooding in.