Slay My Soul

Chapter 32 Max

I grunt as Eve smashes my face with a left hook and follows it with a swift kick to my kidneys. I know she has her genes all activated bar one, but she was a well-known prodigy before that when she was just a wolf. Fuck, even Garret has kicked my ass.

Where is my prodigy-ness thing? I am built like a tank, but the few hits I land on her don't get so much as a hint of a reaction from the woman opposite me. I call bullshit on the gene pool. Mine is clearly lacking.
Of course, it doesn't help that we returned from raiding another convoy a few days ago, and Eve was pissed as hell. The unmarked trucks were full of people. Walking blood bags for the vampires, and not willing ones. We were shocked to find the truck drivers are part of a massive human trafficking ring. The most recent heist had children among the adults. The thought of those children being fed on against their will had sent Eve off the deep end. What she had done to the truck drivers had made what she had done to Magda, look like a sweet tea party. Eve's sanity is slipping. I know deep down that it is the broken bond with Reece dying that is responsible for her downward spiral. If true mates die, the one left behind either dies soon after, dies slowly, or descends into madness.

Eve has managed to channel her madness into fighting the enemy, and it has acted as a release for her crazy, dark side. The fact that she isn't attacking innocent people, blows me away. The mental discipline that it requires is something I can't even begin to fathom. Her violent releases don't make me want her any less. If anything the control she exhibits leaves me in awe of her. Carino has a theory that when I mate Eve it might slow or stop it from getting worse, but he doubts she will get back to where she was prior to Reece's death. Judging by the recent blood bath she has played in, I need to move up my plans. Instead of waiting for Eve to come to me on her terms, I may need to try and outright seduce her.

I am so stuck in my own head, dodging blows and dealing with them on auto-pilot that I'm surprised when I connect full force with her jaw, snapping her head to the side. I blink and realize her arms have lowered to her sides. She has left herself open on purpose. She grins and licks the blood trickling from her now split lip.

"You hit like a little bitch," she smirks, raising her arms back up in defense. I growl and swing with all my strength, only to hit her full force again when she suddenly drops her hands again.

"Fuck!" I curse, as she makes gagging noises from the blow to her trachea, but also makes a wheezing snorting noise. The little shit is laughing at me.

"Again," She wheezes, eyes dancing happily as she grins at me.

"Eve, I'm not going to hit you for shits and giggles. Either fight properly or we are done here," I growl, my pride smarting.

"Again!" She demands, eyes hardening. I back away. I don't know what is going on but I am not going to willingly hit the woman I have fallen hard for.

"What's this actually about Eve? You know this isn't normal behavior, right?" I ask cautiously.

"You know this doesn't exactly work normally these days," she states, tapping her temple. "One day it's going to go completely. My grips slipping." She looks at me and I see Eve, pre-Reece, peeking back at me for a moment. "I try and ease it off with our enemies. Hurting others helps, but feeling pain myself, helps ground me too. Please, Max, I need this." The desperate tone of her voice twists my insides and for a moment I consider it, just to stop her from feeling the way she does. I curse under my breath and wrack my brain for another way to help her.

"We do this my way, or not at all," I state suddenly, mind made up. She nods eagerly and my heart breaks a little. How have the others not realized how bad things have gotten? God, some of them even egg her on when her violence is let loose. Is it because they want her to purge herself as much as possible? Or because some of them are already as twisted as she has become and they get off on it? I will honor her wishes. I will hurt her. However, she will enjoy it - my way. I walk her over to the weights bench and make her kneel on the ground, leaning over the bench. She cocks an eyebrow but does as she is told. I reach down and tear her pants from her violently. "Count as we go," I demand.