Page 195 of Viper

“When he asks for their names. You tell him.”

“The one in charge was Reaper,” I whisper.

Rune’s face changes, turns cold, and a smile that I’ve never seen before cuts across his face. “That’s right. That’s him. That’s what he is. The harbinger of death.”

He backs away, and motions for Zane to come forward.

“Why am I in here?” I ask, my insides shivering with alarm. “Where are we? Why am I not at home?”

“Zane has a few questions for you,” Rune says, backing away. “You can go home once we have some answers.”

Rune turns and walks behind me. I hear the buzz and the door shuts, and then the reality that I’m alone with Zane slams into me. The man who’s tried to convince Rune to let him haveme for years. The man so desperate to get his hands on me, he practically begged me for dates.

Begged to have some part of me for himself.

And now I’m strapped to a chair and left alone with him.

The same man who hunts people with Rune.

My heart slams, nearly cracking my ribcage.

Zane crouches in front of me. He raises the arm in the sling. “Did you know they were going to do this?”

I lick my lips. “Those men?”

He smiles, and my blood turns cold. “You’re different, Delilah.” Zane places his good hand on my thigh, cupping it. Fear makes my heart race so hard my vision blurs, but then anger takes over. Rage so pure, so hot, that I grind my teeth.

He’s right. I’m not the woman I used to be. I’m harder. Colder. He sees it too.

Zane’s gaze drags over me, falling between my legs. His hand slips higher, then dips between my thighs. “Did they fuck you right before they drugged you? Or did they drug you and then fuck you?”

My jaw tightens.

“Did you beg? For them to stop? To keep going?” His fingers brush along my inner thigh, moving toward my center delicately. The way a lover would. Like he knows my body and has permission to touch me. “Did you get off each time they fucked you?”

“Get your hands off me,” I grate, unable to contain the tears.

His fingers drive into me so hard I gasp at the sting. More tears burst free, and I scream again as he swirls them inside me, the invasion as cutting as a blade. When he withdraws his hand, he inspects his fingers, looking at the wetness coating them, rubbing it between his fingers before bringing the tips tohis mouth. He slides his tongue over them, tasting, and the smile that forms churns my stomach.

“Oh, sweet, innocent Delilah.” He wipes his hand on his shirtsleeve and then stands and backs away, keeping his eyes locked on my face. “We are going to have so much fun.”