“Who do you think I am, Francesca? Who the fuck do you think I am?” His fist was so close to my head, grinding and unrelenting, but the rhythm he worked between my legs was unrelenting for a totally different reason. “Who the fuck am I to you, who the fuck are we that something so small could have broken us?” When I didn’t immediately respond he yelled, “Answer me!”
“I don’t know,” I yelled back. “I don’t know,” I repeated in a whisper. “I don’t know what we are.”
He let out a sound somewhere between a growl and a howl then punched the car again. “All of this could have been avoided if you had just told me the fucking truth.”
“And you never lied to me?” I asked. “You’re not keeping anything from me?” Anteros pulled his hand from between my legs and pushed off. The space allowed me to suck in air, but I didn’t want to breathe. The pressure of him was harsh but I craved it the minute he was gone. He flattened his hands on the hood, bracketing me, and we locked eyes. For a brief second it looked like there was something on his mind, but then he ground his jaw and pressed me back against the car.
“No,” he growled. “Nothing.”
“This never could have been avoided!” I snapped. “What fantasy world are you living in that you think your Wolves would have accepted me? That Crazy A would have been okay with me?” I shoved at him, but he was stone. “Let me go.”
“Never,” he growled. He removed his hands from the hood and ran them up and down my body, rough and bruising against my skin. It was quick, as if reassuring himself I was there. He dipped his palm between my thighs again and I inhaled sharply, arching into him, needing his touch. It was light, though, brief and fluttering before he removed his hands from me and placed them back on the hood. I missed him instantly.
“I hat
e what you’ve made me do,” he snarled, pressing his face against my neck. Beneath tendrils of wild, wet hair he looked up at me, and I could see his furious glare.
“I hate what you’ve turned me into,” I countered. Lifting his head, he pressed his lips to mine, but it was hardly a kiss. Biting and sucking, ferocious and violent, he punished me with the embrace. The sharp, coppery taste of blood intertwined with our saliva. I tilted my chin, gave him my tongue, my lips, my breath, needing more.
“You don’t hate anything,” he said, dragging my lip between his teeth. “You love all of this, you fucking liar. You revel in it. This is you to your very marrow, a need so deep it echoes.” He gave me one last burning kiss then lowered his head and bit my shoulder until I screamed.
I threw my head back, trying not to get lost in Anteros. I needed to convince him of the truth, but I couldn’t treat him like a man. Something had snapped within him and he was wild, untamed—but some part of us had always been wild. Like Anteros said, we were never good at talking. We spoke in a language before man, a language of need, of blood, of impulse. I knew what I needed to do.
I tried pushing him off me to get more space, but he growled an angry sound low in his throat. Using what little space I had, I brought my good arm up, sliding my finger under the tight bandage. He tried to grab me, but I quickly pressed my finger to the wound in my arm.
“Ahh!” I cried in pain and he ripped my hand away, gripping my wrist until the skin was white beneath. His eyes darted from me to my finger, now fresh with blood. He still didn’t understand. I tugged on his hold and he let go, but still eyed me suspiciously.
I brought my finger down to my bare chest then used the fresh blood and drew over the A he’d carved. It was messy and barely readable, but the point was made. Anteros watched me, intent visible by the way his viscera coiled and throbbed. Still, he wouldn’t come to me, so I grabbed him with my good arm, snaked my still bloody fingers into his hair, and pulled him close. I crushed my lips against his and he responded brutally—thrusting his tongue into me, fucking my mouth. All I could do was lie back and moan into him.
“I love you,” I panted against his lips when he finally pulled back to give me a chance to breathe. “You have me. All of me. You’re inside me forever.”
“You’re a fucking liar,” he said. “But I don’t care.” He dipped his head to my neck, sucking and savage, leaving marks. He gripped my waist with such ferocity I was sure I would get bruises. He was driving me out of my mind and I wanted to let my head fall and give in to the madness, but he still didn’t believe me and I didn’t know what I could do to make him.
Then it came to me.
And it was horrible.
It would be the ultimate betrayal. It would utterly destroy my old self. The tiny thread I’d been clinging to, the thread that said I was normal—a good girl. Then again, he’d just destroyed his old self, obliterated it, and I was naked and drawing on myself with blood.
The thread was frayed to begin with.
“You—” I swallowed, trying to gather the courage and untie my tongue as his hands worked black magic. “You can’t trust Levi.” His coil loosened from my waist, his kiss died. His lips were at my neck, his breath purgatory. I expected to feel worse about betraying my only friend, but I only waited for Anteros.
“What?” Anteros lifted his head, stared into my eyes. I exhaled. Anteros. The deep bluegreen of the ocean was looking at me, no longer a furious maelstrom of black. A deep hurt still ringed the irises, his defenses and walls gone. It was like when he’d come to me drunk after the Christmas Eve party, but even more stripped. It was beyond seeing his beating heart—he ripped it out. He gave me the bloody thing and it went thump thump thump in my hand until blood seeped down my wrist.
In his eyes, I saw pain.
Uncertainty.
Fear.
Then, as if he knew what was happening, it vanished and he hardened his gaze once more. Still, it was nothing compared to the earlier madness.
“He’s working for Lucia.” The dim glow of a parking lamp made the furrow in his brow even deeper. I sucked in all of my courage and continued. “There are probably others working for her, too, but I don’t know. She doesn’t tell me anything. She killed my father right in front of me. I didn’t know Nikolai was going to be there tonight. I think Nikolai is a goddamn snake.” I tried to get all the truth out at once, and once I had, I was breathless. Silence fell, and I could see the cogs working in his head as he absorbed everything. He backed away and I was worried he was questioning me again.
“I was running away tonight,” I said, putting my palm on his chest. “I was coming to you.” Anteros stopped and eyed the hand on his chest. His glare flicked from my hand to me.
“But you knew he was working for Lucia,” he tested.