He'll have to break all the rules to keep her, but first she has to break just one and let him in...
It's taken four years, but Anna Fray has finally put the past behind her. Mostly. She fills her days working in a bar and her nights watching bad ro...
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The world fell away in the moments that followed.
I heard nothing except for the static buzz ringing in my ears. I saw nothing but the way Olivia's teeth stained with blood, before it leaked through the pearly white grin and dribbled down her porcelain chin. A single drop fell, and my eyes followed it down. Down to where my fisted hand was pressed against her supple body.
From a distance, it would look like I'd thrown a brutal punch to her diaphragm, but I could see the silver glint of the knife in my blood-soaked hand. I could feel the way her hot blood slicked my skin and caused the handle to slip in my grasp.
The lightning from the storm outside threw the world into stark relief, like some scene from a graphic novel, all black, white and red. It seemed impossibly close, like it had ripped through the ceiling to land at our feet. I was sure that, if I could tear my gaze away from the horror in front of me, I'd see scorch marks surrounding us. Burning portals showing a glimpse of the hell I was destined to.
What had I done?
It was the only way you could escape, my mind reasoned. But even if it had been part of the plan, the rage that drove the knife through her gut hadn't been fuelled by self-preservation. I had wanted her to suffer for what she'd done to Nightmare. Even now I could feel that need itching under my surface, barely swamped by the wash of horror I'd felt crash over me.
Even when strong hands pulled me away, and Olivia disappeared from view, I was still caught in that moment.
"We're too late," a brusque voice shouted, piercing my muffled hearing.
"If we were too late, we would feel it," a second countered, assertive but desperate. I could hear the edge in his voice as it cut through the din. It was as clear as day and equally bright, burning away the fog like Summer's sun.
Warmth hugged my shoulders; a welcome jolt against the cold that seemed to envelope me, sinking down to my bones. With sluggish movements I dragged my gaze away from the thick sticky blood, starting to coagulate on my skin, and looked to the source of the heat.
Wide hands gripped me tightly, making dimples where their fingertips pressed into my skin. I traced the long nimble fingers up to strong bare arms. The muscles under the surface were tensed and defined. From the long swoop of his forearm to the impressive bulge of his bicep, all quivering gently, not with the cold, but with the restraint he held me with.
"Anna? Anna, say something. Please."
Fuck, that voice.
The timbre of it made everything in me vibrate. The pained edge did nothing to dim the delicious way it wrapped around my name. Like a siren song, it pulled me back, breaking the cycle I was stuck in.
My eyes blinked away the sight of Olivia's blood - etched as it was behind my eyelids - and when they cleared they focussed on the man holding me.
My breath shuddered when I saw him. Had he always been this beautiful? Perhaps it had been shrouded by the mists of memory, or the sculpted lines of his face had been eroded with time, like the coastal cliffs of my beloved beaches. Or maybe the adrenaline imbued into every inch of me had just heightened my sense of sight, noticing every delicious detail of him.
