Page 56 of The Invite (The Massacre Ball #1)

His gaze lights up, which I’m recognizing as satisfaction every time my answer pleases him. Sliding the helmet on my head and then his, he turns and straddles his bike. I curl my hand around his offered palm as I mount the passenger seat.

Thrill courses through my veins as I wrap my arms around his solid torso without any prompt. I’m smiling wide long before he roars the engine to life.

And till we reach the destination, I’m at peace.

Feeling the safest I’ve ever been.

Ironic, it’s with my masked monster.

***

Augustus brings me to the woods. The last place I expected him to bring me. The memories from the first night flicker before my eyes. My pulse races so fast I can hear it in my eardrums.

Leaving his bike parked on the side of the road, we venture deeper into the forest. I pray I didn’t make a mistake in trusting him. I’ll be crushed if everything today was an act to fool me and complete his unfinished business from our first meeting.

My hand tremors in his, making him glimpse down at me.

“Stop,” he murmurs, reading my mind. “Didn’t bring you here to hurt you, Ness.”

“Where are we going?”

“A spot I like to visit when I want to be alone.”

My heart skips a beat. It’s deeply intimate what he’s sharing with me. Is this him letting me in? Utterly curious, I ask, “Have you brought anyone else here before?”

His grip tightens as he clears his throat roughly, before spilling, “No.”

A clearing comes into view, stealing my attention. As we approach it, my lips part of their own volition at the view. Moonlight reflects off the still waters of the small lake. A cool breeze wafting over my body, making me shiver.

Nothing but peaceful vibes swirl in the air. Even the sound of crickets in the background blends in.

It must look prettier during the day under the bright rays of the sunlight.

Augustus takes me closer to a group of rocks at the edge. Picking me up, he perches me on the biggest one before settling down next to me. His arm brushes against my shoulder. Even sitting, he’s taller than me.

Both of us take in our surroundings silently.

“This is a lovely spot,” I say, dipping my toes into the water. “How did you find it?”

“I used to explore the woods a lot as a kid,” he shares, bending down to slide my leggings up my ankles so they don’t get wet as I dip them in the lake. “Stumbled on it by mistake.”

My pussy clenches when he doesn’t remove his hands and shifts them to wrap around my left thigh. His long fingers absently drumming a beat on the inside.

“Why did you choose Fallthorne?”

My gaze snaps to his. They’re burning with intrigue. As much as I want to confess the truth, I lie, “I needed a change of scenery. A fresh start.”

“Why?” he probes, tasting my lie. “Because of the people who crushed your soul?”

I look ahead, breaking the connection. “I told you they didn’t win.”

“You’re lying, little prey.” An electric zap travels down my spine as he tucks my hair behind my ear and brings my face to his.

Pinning me with a dark expression, he holds my chin captive.

“I’m going to get you to spill their names and I’m going to end them, starting with Anonymous.

You’ll be right by my side. Whether to watch or slay them with me, I’ll let you decide. ”

The conviction with which he promises this astounds me and goosebumps dance on my skin, covering me from head to toe.

He utters it like it’s a foregone conclusion.

Most men make promises of romantic dates, flowery poems, and endless devotion. Augustus is promising me a vow of death. Offering the heads of those who tried to destroy my light at my feet so I can avenge myself.

These words sink into my bloodstream and spark a fire inside me that should’ve never been lit. Violence, blood, and gore are the last things I should be tempted or flattered by.

Yet I am.

The wounds I’ve suffered and the turmoil I’ve gone through, Augustus’s vow makes me feel protected. A ray of hope and light that I prayed for in the past, but never received. Not even from the ones who were supposed to give it unconditionally.

Some might say this is another version of Stockholm syndrome that I’m seeing a protector in my monster. However, they’d be wrong.

I know what true Stockholm syndrome is, and this is far from it.

“You shouldn’t talk about killing so callously, Augustus,” I finally reply, curling my fingers in his green tee.

“I meant every word.” Hooking an arm around my waist, he shifts me to his lap. His head tilts until our temples touch. Our lower halves flush against each other. I breathe in his scent, becoming drowsy like it’s a hypnotic drug. “You don’t need to ever worry about me crushing your soul, Nessa.”

“How can you be sure?”

“I don’t have a heart.”

“You do.” His hand on the curve of my waist stills its absentminded caressing. My lips graze his as I whisper, “I just can’t decide whether good or bad.”

A shudder racks through him, and he pulls back.

“ Weakness .” A rough exhale ruffles my hair and he adds in a guttural tone, “Your big heart is a goddamn weakness if you believe that.”

He’s wrong.

I can tell him now, but I save it for another day. Then, I’ll prove to him just how much.

We stare into each other’s eyes, becoming lost.

Until he confesses, “I don’t have any regrets in my life. Walking away from you last night was the first.”

“Just last night?” My voice comes out small.

His goes deeper and darker. “Yes. You’re upset because I walked out, not for the countless orgasms I’ve stolen from you or the ruthless way I’ve chased you ever since we met.”

“What about not giving me a choice and terrifying me?” I counter, searching for a hint of remorse in his eyes. “Do you not regret that?”

“No. Because then you never would’ve been mine.” Inching closer, he possessively rumbles, “Do you want to know what it means when I say you belong to me, little prey?”

I turn my head but he captures my chin, forcing me to peer into his eyes.

“It’s not only your body that’s mine, it’s everything about you.

Your every waking thought, your fears, your smile, your touch, your secrets, your orgasms—they’re all mine.

I’m stamping my name all over it. And your soul is no longer yours, it belongs to me.

I protect it. I worship it. I own it. I’ll gut anyone who tries to crush it, including myself . ”

The last sentence steals the oxygen straight from my lungs. I stare wide-eyed and absorb each gut-wrenching word. It’s a miracle that I’m even able to hear over the roaring beating of my heart.

“Do you understand now?”

I nod speechlessly.

By the time morning comes, his proclamation has sunk into my bloodstream.