Dark Need (House of Sin 3)

He makes a face. “C’mon, it’s just sex! It didn’t mean anything.”

“To me, it does,” I yell back, a single tear rolling down my cheeks. “We were supposed to stay pure for one another! And you destroyed everything!”

He approaches me, hands out like he wants to hug me.

So I scream at the top of my lungs, “GET AWAY FROM ME!”

It’s the first time I’ve ever yelled this loud … and the first time I’ve ever said those words to him. And judging from the look on his face, they hurt me more than they hurt him.

“Fine,” he says with a frown, and he gets dressed and grabs his things. “You want to go down that route, do what you want. I’m out of here.”

And he walks downstairs, leaving me in shambles and completely flabbergasted at what I just witnessed. A flurry of rage seeps down into my core, and I run down the stairs to go after him.

But the second he steps out of the door, he flings his ring straight at me.

It lands on the floor, right in front of my feet.

The purity ring I gave him only a year ago.

The promise we made to each other.

All destroyed in a single moment.

Chapter 8

Soren

Present

Fury overcomes me as I snap at the one thing that put me in this position.

That made me experience this much volatile pain.

Pain I’ve never experienced before.

Pain that makes me want to gouge myself with my own knife.

I know pain.

I’ve lived with it for most of my life.

The pain I’m used to is the one I inflict onto others.

But this? This is on a whole different scale.

This is pain I have to swallow away and count down the seconds until it disappears.

But it keeps hurting, keeps pounding against my leg, my thigh, my crotch, and nothing I do will erase it.

Because she is here, looking at me with those doe-like eyes.

Those eyes will be the death of me.

Even when I yelled at her, she’s still there, right in front of me, clutching her blanket like she isn’t afraid of me.

But she should be.

I could kill her with my bare hands.

I could squeeze the life out of her and make this all end.

And the second she tries to reach for me again, I roar like hell.

She stumbles backward, almost falling on her ass, the sympathetic look in her eyes completely vanished and replaced by fear. Pure and utter fear.

Not the kind I could ever enjoy, but the kind that reflects my own image like a mirror.

And it makes me hate myself.

I grunt and punch myself in the gut to distract myself from the pain.

“Stop,” she mutters.

But I do it again until the pain subsides, and I can finally crawl up on my knees again.

She’s still there, huddled against a tree, the rope between us always reminding me of my duty.

I promised him to bring her to the location, safe and sound.

And I almost fucking tried …

I lean up and stare at these hands that almost wrapped themselves around her neck. The longer I think about it, the angrier I get, and my hands begin to shake.

I throw her one look, and she instantly flinches and makes herself tiny as if she thinks I’ll come after her next.

My nostrils flare, and I take in a deep breath, closing my eyes to focus on the here and now. To get myself to calm down, I repeat the same mantra over and over again, the one I was taught at a very young age.

Do not give in to sin.

Control yourself. Control your emotions. Control your thoughts. Control your voice. Control.

The adrenaline surging through my body slowly ebbs out until there’s nothing left but restraint and regret. Until there’s nothing left but the memories instilled in me so very long ago, still lodged in the back of my brain.

Age 10

“Push harder!”

My trainer’s whip comes down on my shoulder, and the slight sting doesn’t faze me, but it does force me to put every ounce of my strength into pushing these boulders aside.

My body hurts from all the training I’ve endured, but I will continue.

This is what I was born for, what I will die for.

I was taught from a young age never to give up, and I don’t plan to either.

“C’mon, I know you can do this faster, Soren,” my trainer quips.

When the whip comes down, I’m not prepared, and I hiss as I go to one knee.

“Focus on the power and strength of will,” he says. “There is no honor or glory for those who give up.”

“I’m not giving up,” I hiss back.

Another strike of the whip follows.

“Do not speak back unless spoken to. Control your emotions. Control your thoughts. Control your voice.”

Her stern voice reminds me of the power she holds.

Of who I really am and what I amount to.

Endurance to pain and suffering. Unending strength and will. The hallmarks of a good fighter, bodyguard, killer.