A satisfied hum reverberates in the male purebred's chest while my heart thumps in terror. His voice carries an unsettling calmness as he speaks, "I've been wondering how long it would take for your kind to arrive and disrupt my calling." His grip on my head tightens, his claws threatening to pierce my scalp. I wince at the stings while he snarls, "But you can't alter my destiny. I was born to reign, and I will rebuild my kingdom!" Each word carries the weight of his conviction, and I feel the very essence of my being protesting against his existence.
The gunshots continue to echo through the storeroom, intermingled with snarls and hisses of the demonic creatures Logan battles. Despite being pinned by the pureblood, most of my thoughts are consumed by concern for him.
With a scoff, the pureblood clenches his hand into a fist around my hair, forcing my head up off the ground so I can see his wicked smile. "If anything, you two are gifts, mere sources of entertainment sent to me by your precious HQ!" he taunts. "Humans break so easily, but you're somewhat durable~" Bile rises up in my throat, realization sinking in about the twisted game we've been thrust into.
I jab my elbow backward, aiming for his side or ribs, but he effortlessly captures it, yanking it with brutal force. A sickening pop echoes through the room as my shoulder dislocates, followed by a sharp cry of agony escaping my lips.
"Even though I called you durable, don't get any misconceptions.", he sneers, while I drop my forehead against the floor, my eyes squeezed shut. With each tug he delivers, waves of excruciating pain shoot through my shoulder, eliciting hisses and cries from me. "I could still crush you in an instant.", he whispers next to my ear, his words dripping with venom.
Tears cloud my vision when I open my eyes to meet his autumn gaze with defiance. He clicks his tongue disapprovingly, shaking his head. "Tears on hunters are such a waste. They form and fall without purpose. After all, everyone knows hunters don't cry."
I glare at him despite the pain coursing through me, refusing to let him see my weakness. My attention snaps back to the closed door as I hear a couple of clicks of empty gunshots. A brief moment of silence follows, probably as Logan defends himself and reloads his weapon, before the chaotic gunfire resumes with renewed intensity.
Hearing my beloved's desperate struggle for survival—fighting against overwhelming odds—ignites a burning restlessness within me. He shouldn't have to face this alone. I'm his partner, his lover! I should be by his side. Yet here I am, rendered powerless, even a burden, using both of our jackets when it should have been him wearing them.
The orange-haired pureblood shifts his weight on top of me, exchanging his knee for his torso to keep me firmly pinned to the ground. He releases my arm only to grasp my hair once more, forcing me to meet his gaze. His amber eyes bore into mine, sparkling with a disturbing mix of amusement and cruelty as he asks, "Why do I sense that I no longer have your undivided attention?"
I clench my jaws, refusing to dignify him with a response. His eyebrows shoot up in mock surprise, and he provokes, "Oh, still holding out hope for your partner to come to your rescue?" He throws his head back, laughing cruelly, "He won't make it out of that storeroom alive!"
Locking his sinister gaze on me, he muses, "He may have surprised me with his resilience. But how long do you think he can truly hold out? How long before his ammo runs dry? How long before he bleeds out? And what about when his injuries become too severe to heal? Can your kind regenerate limbs? Organs?"
Though I know I shouldn't let him, the undeniable truth in his taunts manages to burrow its way into my mind nonetheless. The copper-haired demon smirks triumphantly as he sees the dread flicker in my eyes, relishing in his ability to get under my skin. "Logan...", I whimper fearfully, my gaze darting back to the door, though the abomination keeps my face fixed in his direction.
