Enchanted Seduction

Chapter 8

ETHAN

I didn’t know if the girl had nothing nice to say, or if she just enjoyed pushing my buttons, but the constant stream of complaints coming from her lips made me want to snap her beautiful neck. And I could, so easily. Just one quick twist, and silence would follow. But that wasn’t what I wanted, not yet. She still had no idea what I was capable of, what kind of monster she had invited into her life, and I wasn’t ready for her to know. At least not until I had her exactly where I wanted her.

Her eyelids fluttered, and she finally nodded off. A wave of relief swept through me. The silence felt foreign after hours of her sharp, cutting remarks. I looked at her, curled up in the seat, her expression softening now that she was unconscious. That sharp tongue of hers was quite a contrast to the quiet, almost innocent look she had when she slept.

She was human, so delicate compared to me. I had to remind myself that she wasn’t like me. She needed food, water, and rest. She’d probably be too weak to stand if I didn’t get her something soon. My lips twitched into a half-smile at the thought. Weakness wasn’t something I dealt with often, but it was clear she’d need her strength soon. Especially for what I had planned. She had no idea how hard I was going to push her. But I was determined—determined to bend her, to mold her into something far less overbearing, far less… herself, she didn't own her life anymore, she was needed for the betterment of my race.

“Hang in there, love,” I murmured softly, more to myself than to her, as I watched her chest rise and fall in sleep. She had no idea what was coming. Scotland. The Isle of Secret. The place was as ominous as it sounded, and it would be her undoing.

I carried her out of the car and into my private jet. The weight of her in my arms felt like nothing she was light, so light, as though any moment I could break her if I wanted to. But not yet. The time for that would come, and when it did, I wanted to see the fire leave her eyes as she realized I had won.

I laid her down gently on the bed in the jet’s cabin, her hair spilling across the pillow in soft waves. For a moment, I just stared at her. Her body was flawless every curve and line, the golden tan of her skin, the way her breasts rose and fell with each breath. I ran my hand down her side, from her collarbone to her hips, my fingers grazing the softness of her skin. She stirred slightly but didn’t wake.

My hunger grew. Not just the thirst for her blood, though that gnawed at me with increasing urgency. No, this was something different, something more primal. My hand trailed down to her thighs, then back up to the soft swell of her breasts. She was perfect. She was mine.

I bent down, pressing my lips to the delicate skin of her neck, tasting the salt on her skin. My fangs extended, and I felt the hunger sharpen, the desire to sink my teeth into her, to claim her. I pressed a kiss to her pulse, feeling it beat erratically beneath my lips. The need to drink from her surged.

And then, she moaned.

"Oh Max, that’s how I like it. Bite me."

The name Max shattered my focus like a mirror breaking into a thousand pieces. Max. Even in her dreams, even as she lay here, vulnerable and in my grasp, her thoughts were on him. Fury blazed through me, hot and dangerous, and I pulled away from her, my teeth retreating as the rage pulsed in my chest.

Max. The man who despised her, who had abandoned her. Yet she still clung to him, as though he were some kind of savior. He didn’t care for her, hadn’t lifted a finger to save her when she was on the brink of ruin, and yet here she was, dreaming of him while I stood by her side, giving her everything.

I stormed out of the cabin, my hands clenching into fists as I fought the urge to break something—anything. How could she still want him? After everything I had done for her, everything I had given her. She had no idea what it took to keep her out of jail, to make sure she didn’t lose everything. She was alive because of me, yet her heart still belonged to him.