Serpentine Desires

The predator

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I learned a thing or two today.

I didn't like these events. Not the people. Not the loud voices. And definitely not that motherfucker.

And it was truly a strenuous task to not jump down the fucking stage, and slit his throat right then and there before cutting off his finger he was touching my little bird with. The rage boiled within me and I hated this new feeling.

It was concerning I wanted to already see blood when I just caused mayhem two hours ago.

Patience, I told myself. It would be so easy, so gratifying to end him now, but no. Not here. Not in front of all these eyes. There was a time and place for everything, and his time was coming. Soon.

"You're glaring," I heard Kyle mutter, and I tore my gaze from the crowd where my little bird was. She thought she'd blend in with all these useless humans, and I wouldn't notice her. I could see her in the back, trying to hide behind the mundane faces, but she stood out to me like a beacon.

There was no way she didn't know I'd be here. Wasn't that the reason she wore that dress? For me, so that I could take it off of her later? My fingers itched with anticipation. What were the chances if I kidnapped her right now? Surely she'd scream, maybe even beg.

The thought of her pleading, those beautiful eyes wide with fear was enough to get my хуй semi-hard. It would be so easy, just a quick move, and she'd be mine. But then the chaos, the witnesses. I sighed. I was in the mood to kill them all today, though it was easy, but I didn't want to dirty my hands.

Yet the image of her in that dress, the way it clung to her curves, was a sweet torment. She was daring me, challenging me. My little bird wanted to play, and I was more than eager to oblige.

I forced myself to relax, to wait.

The anticipation made the hunt more thrilling.

Soon, she would be alone, and vulnerable, and then I'd make my move.

She wouldn't escape me; she never could.

The bastard once again touched her and she definitely looked uncomfortable.

A dark scowl curled at my lips. "I'm fucking blind," I grumbled as the woman with chopped bangs motioned to the table. When I turned my head to look back at my ptichka, she was gone.

Her futile attempts at hiding amused me. She didn't realize that no matter where she went, no matter how deep she tried to bury herself among the sheep, I would always find her. She was mine, after all. My prey, my little bird.

To my irritation, that dude was gone too. It only irked me. The thought of him touching her, thinking he had any right, made my blood boil. How dare he? How dare she?

I prowled through the crowd with my eyes.

Thirty minutes passed, and she was still nowhere to be found. My patience wore thin, my anger simmering just beneath the surface. How dare she think she could evade me? Did she not understand the depth of her actions, the lengths I would go to claim what was rightfully mine?

The fucking fest continued around me, oblivious to the storm brewing within. The laughs, the music, the meaningless chatter—all of it grated on my nerves.

I envisioned dragging her from the shadows, her screams echoing as I claimed her, marking her as mine.

I clenched my fists, my nails digging into my palms as I fought to maintain control.