Bitter Vows (Crimson Falls 1)

“That makes no sense.”

He tugs my hair once more before gripping my chin between his thumb and forefinger. “When you spoke back to me, when that fire burned in your eyes, that’s when I decided I’ll take you, and your father agreed.” A flash of satisfaction dances in his darkening gaze before he leans in, his mouth teasing its way over my cheek to my ear. “And that makes you mine.”

The heat of his breath and the promise in his tone has my skin bursting with goose bumps, the tightening in my gut twisting with a need for more pain as he tugs at my hair. My thighs instinctively squeeze together even though I try to fight the desire that’s burning through every inch of me. My stomach somersaults with a flurry of nerves when Lycan’s teeth graze the supple flesh of my ear lobe.

I don’t know what I’m supposed to do here.

I want to hate Lycan, and I think I do, but also, anger at my parents takes precedence.

But even under all that, there’s the need for him that’s coursing through my veins like a drug. It’s as if I’ve been shot up with something strong and volatile, something I’m not sure I can fight. Even though I know, I should.

Pulling away, I lock my glare on him before I voice, “I won’t marry you.” But the hoarsely whispered words aren’t as strong as they were earlier.

“We’ll see,” Lycan responds before stepping back, leaving me cold and shivering at his absence. “Eat. Enjoy your coffee. I’ll see you later.” He heads to the door and stops on the threshold, glancing at me from over his shoulder before winking.

And then he’s gone, and I’m left angry and frustrated.

14

Scarlett

Unconvinced. That’s the emotion coursing through me when I wake up in the darkened bedroom. When I think about marrying Lycan, I’m unsure of myself, of his intentions, which he seemed to make clear last night, but there’s a hint of doubt plaguing me.

Pushing off the bed, I pad barefoot to the window, pulling open the heavy, lined curtains to find what looks like a chilly morning, the grass shimmering with drops of dew settled on the green blades. The forest beyond seems to swallow up the light, offering only a warning—don’t enter here.

I move to the vanity, taking in the beautifully carved wood, the smooth surface where Lycan had pinned me down before spanking my ass. The memory is still fresh in my mind, replaying when I need it least. I don’t want to remember how his hands felt on me, but every interaction so far has been intense. And if I had to be honest, it’s left me frustrated—more at the fact that he has such an effect on me.

I shouldn’t want him, but my body betrays me each time. The man is an Adonis, and when he’s around me, I’m merely a mortal girl, one with needs that flare like wildfire at his touch. Shaking my head, I go into the bathroom to freshen up before dressing in a pair of leggings, and a large sweater that falls just below my butt. Slipping on a pair of ballet flats, I pull my hair into a messy bun before I open my bedroom door.

He hasn’t given me an order not to explore the house. Instead of sitting in the room, I’m going to try to learn more about the man who’s stolen me. If I can find a phone, perhaps I can call my grandmother. She’ll know what to do.

At the thought of her, I wonder if she knows Lycan. Surely, being neighbors, she would need to know the person living next door to her. The fact that he knows my father is also jarring. A connection that is still confusing me. Growing up, I never heard the Shaw or even about Lycan himself. Why has he only now appeared in my life?

My feet carry me down the long hallway, silently over the carpets which line the floor, leading me from door to door. Each one I push open is another bedroom. By the time I reach the far end, the last door is locked, and I can’t for the life of me figure out if it’s another bedroom or if on the other side is something far more sinister.

A giggle bubbles in my chest at the thought. I’ve been reading far too many romance novels. My mind is clearly playing tricks on me. But I wouldn’t put it past Lycan to have a red room where he would torture women into submission.

Heat sizzles over my skin, leaving goosebumps in the wake of the thoughts that take hold of me. I don’t want Lycan. And even as I tell myself silently that it’s true, my mind and body are at war.

Ignoring the niggling at what’s behind the black, wooden door, I turn and head for the staircase, leading me down to the ground floor. The house is silent. There’s not even a clink of cutlery or crockery from the kitchen.