Dark Need (House of Sin 3)

He sighs out loud and comes to such a grinding halt that I almost bump into him.

Throwing his bag off his shoulder, he settles on one knee in the middle of the forest, trying to find something. He fishes out a water bottle and opens the cap, holding it out to me. I stare at it for a few seconds before taking it from him, but when our fingers touch, I almost drop it right then and there. Luckily, his firm hands don’t let go of the bottle until I have it.

I can’t shake that electrical current zooming through my body as he finally lets go of both the bottle and my hand. I try to wash the heat away with the water, a welcoming cool to my dry-as-a-desert throat.

After I’m done, I hand the bottle back to him and swipe my hand along my lips. That bag of his can’t contain that much. If we finish this bottle now, there probably won’t be anymore. And without water, we won’t survive long. Does he have a plan, or is this all just a way to get me farther and farther away from help?

As he lifts the bottle over his head and pours it into his mouth, I’m momentarily struck by just how giant he really is and how easy it would be for him to take whatever he wants from me and get away with it.

I’m stuck in the middle of a forest, surrounded by freedom, yet I’m letting myself be chaperoned by a man I don’t know, a man I fear … a man I should run from.

My brain kicks into action.

It’s now or never.

While he’s busy drinking with his back turned to me, I bolt.

I run as fast as I can without looking back.

The rush of adrenaline hits me hard as my muscles ache from the strain I put on them. But I don’t dare stop.

Because I hear the crackling leaves behind me and the grunts emanating from this beast of a man in pursuit of me.

And when I briefly glance over my shoulder to see how close he is, his fiery eyes are all I need to see to panic.

Chapter 5

Soren

One second.

One second of me looking away to take a much-needed drink, and she bolts away like no one’s watching.

But when I hear those feet skid across the ground, I know in an instant what’s going on, and I drop the bottle to start my pursuit.

My muscles kick into action, and I rush after her, not giving a shit how much it hurts after already trekking through a forest with her on my shoulder.

I am not letting her get away.

Not on my watch.

She thinks she can run, but I’m faster.

And when I catch her, it will cost her dearly.

A branch hits my face, but I pay no attention even though I can feel the blood rushing to my cheek. My attention is solely focused on her. And I’m coming for her.

She’s running as fast as she can, brushing past the trees to try to escape my grasp, but nothing in this world could stop me from catching her.

When she takes a peek at me over her shoulder, fear settles in her eyes in an instant.

A pang of pain shoots through my legs, all the way to my groin, and I roar out loud.

Ignore the rush, deny the excitement, no matter how much I enjoy the chase.

She’s just another one of the sinners.

And this is just another game that will only end with her as my prey.

She darts between the trees, trying to shake me off, but it’s no use. Anything smaller than me gets snapped in two when I barge through. I’m not your average guy. I’ve been trained for this. Sinners trying to escape is nothing new to me.

For it to be in the outdoors, though, is.

And she didn’t prep for that either.

Because one simple glance over her shoulder at the predator following her, and she immediately tumbles over a rock she missed.

Her body flops to the ground.

She groans in pain but keeps crawling like it’ll get her anywhere.

Within seconds I’ve caught up, and I step over her body, caging her in with one foot on each side.

I grab a fistful of her hair and lift her head so she’ll look at me.

“Bad Kitty …” I say, towering over her.

My free hand snakes around her belly, and I lift her from the ground. She kicks and screams, trying to punch the air.

“Let me go!”

I shove her up against the nearest tree so the air is knocked from her lungs, and she stops making any sound. With my hand around her throat, I pin her to the wood, and I fish a knife from my pocket, pointing it at her belly.

The second she feels the cold blade against her skin, she stops moving.