Merciless Saints (St. Monarch's Academy 1)

My heartbeat speeds up, and my breathing falters. “Don’t,” I manage to mumble.

His eyes hold mine captive as he leans a little forward and then his lips part. “I don’t like my women weak. Sleep.”

I search his face for any sign that he’s lying to me, but only find truth. There’s zero desire in his eyes. If anything, he looks angry.

I never thought I’d be relieved to see him annoyed with me. The fear retreats a little but then a new one forms. I’m going to owe Damien for this. I’m in his debt, and that’s dangerous.

The cloud in my mind thickens, making me feel even more powerless. My eyes stay glued to Damien’s as he straightens up. It looks like he’s going to leave, and needing to get the words out, I mumble, “Thank…” I suck in a breath, and I have to really focus to finish, “…you.”

His gaze narrows on me, and for a moment, he looks indecisive, but then he murmurs, “Sleep, Winter. For tonight you’re safe.”

Even though I know I can believe his words, I still fight the darkness skirting around the edges of my mind.

Damien disappears out of my line of sight, and I try to turn my head but unable to move, I can only listen as he opens a closet. I hear the fabric of his clothes rustle, and minutes later, he appears as he walks into the bathroom. He’s only wearing black sweatpants. His muscles ripple beneath his tanned skin as he takes hold of his toothbrush.

Watching him brush his teeth and wash his face calms me. All I can do is stare at him while my breaths grow rhythmic. I take in every curve of muscle, every vein snaking up his arm. When he walks back to me, I drink in the wide expanse of his chest, his abs, and the carved lines of his hips as they dip under his low-hanging sweatpants.

My emotions scatter, desire mixing with the vulnerability I feel, and it makes something new stir in my chest.

Cillian taught me to fight, to always be strong, but lying on Damien’s bed, I wonder what it would be like to be dominated by him. To have him take over the reins in my life. To be in control of me.

Would I find peace and safety, or would I be destroyed?

What’s the use of thinking about it. I probably won’t remember any of this tomorrow.

Damien turns off the lights, and I hear as he moves through the room. I feel the mattress dip as he lies down, and it makes my heart rate spike.

Never in my wildest dreams did I think I’d share a bed with a Vetrov. Now there’s one lying mere inches from me.

The stories Cillian told me about Demitri made the Vetrovs seem merciless and cold. Monsters who wouldn’t hesitate to kill. After all, Demitri played a significant role in eliminating an Albanian group.

Up until tonight, I believed every word, but now I’ve seen a soft side to Damien. He could’ve ignored my predicament. He could’ve left me lying in my room, vulnerable to another attack.

But he didn’t.

He brought me to his room, and now he’s lying beside me… guarding me.

Who is the real Damien Vetrov?

This man who’s protecting me, or will he turn out to be a legendary killer like his brother?

With the thoughts mulling in my head, my eyes drift shut. The last thing I’m aware of before the drug drags me under a wave of numbing darkness is the intensity coming from Damien’s presence beside me.

DAMIEN

For a moment, I regret helping Winter, but then I remember the scene I walked in on. Hugo holding her down while Vince was on top of her.

It makes my anger return, not because they were probably going to rape her, but because they dared to touch her. A possessive side I never knew I had flared to life, making me see red. It pushed me forward to destroy… to kill… all for her.

By the grace of God, I didn’t kill them. It would’ve ruined everything I worked so hard for.

Turning my head, I stare at Winter’s profile. It looks like she’s fallen asleep. Good. Seeing the fear in her eyes made the blood rush through my veins. It was intoxicating.

Having her at my mercy makes desire burn in me, and it makes me want to claim her for myself.

But I don’t want her this way. I want her to fight back. I want to see the spark in her eyes. I want her lips to part as I thrust into her. I want to hear her moans and screams as I fuck her, branding her with my cock.

Like any other predator, I enjoy the thrill of the hunt, and right now, she’s nothing more than a wounded deer.

My gaze drifts down to her breasts, and I watch as they rise and fall with every slow breath she takes.