Page 16 of Lethal Truths

Prudence

“Goddamn you, Creed! Let me go!” I shout, trying and failing to pull my arm out of his tight grip. He hasn’t spoken a word to me since dragging me out of the observatory and all the way to Greek Row, and his hold on me is painful enough that I know I’ll be bruised tomorrow. My plan to sneak around and get some answers tonight blew up right in my face. I expected everyone to be inside the meeting room. Creed and Griffin striding down the hall toward me wasn’t worst-case scenario — it could have easily been someone else, someone more dangerous — but it still sucked. And the flare of anger in Creed’s whiskey eyes was enough for me to know I’d fucked up.

He ignores me like he has the entire walk over here, pulling me up the three flights of stairs and yanking me into his bedroom the second he gets the door open. Only then, once he’s locked the door and put his back to it, does he let me go. His raven hair is disheveled, and there’s the smallest crease between his brows as he stares at me.

I inspect my arm, scowling down at the finger marks already blooming along my pale skin. Glaring up at Creed, I say, “What the fuck?” That’s all. I can’t see through my rage to get any other words out.

“I asked you to stay here,” he says, his voice deceivingly calm. Somehow, that’s worse. Creed is like an animal, a true predator, and in the face of his calmness, I’m suddenly aware of how quick he can strike.

I roll my eyes at him, turning around and grabbing my backpack, and then stuffing it with a few necessities. He doesn’t say anything more, but it doesn’t matter. I can feel his eyes on me as I pack up my shit.

When I turn around, his gaze drops to my backpack clutched in my hands, overflowing with things. He tilts his head and softly asks, “Where do you think you’re going, Ember?”

A chill races down my spine at the warning in his voice. Holding my head up, I grip my backpack tighter and tell him, “Back to my room.”

“Like hell you are,” he grits out. “We’ll talk through this. That’s what couples do, right?”

I shake my head, zipping my backpack closed and slinging it over my shoulder. “We can talk tomorrow, but I need some space tonight,” I explain as evenly as I can, even as my arm burns and aches and throbs.

“No,” he growls, striding across the room and stepping into my space. “I told you I’d never let you go. I meant it. Tell me what’s wrong so I can fix it or glare at me all night from across the room, but you will not be leaving me.”

Panic claws at my chest, quickly flowing through my veins and leaving me cold. I’m not looking at my Creed right now. No, I’m staring into the dangerous, calculating eyes of the Creed who hurt me. But that’s fine. If he wants to change his mask, become the darker version of himself, I can do the same. I have plenty of pent-up anger that needs to be released.

Curling my lips into a sneer, I grit out, “You don’t get to manhandle me all the way across campus like I’m some fucking rag-doll and then expect me to want to be near you all damn night. I’m not playing this game with you. Give me some space or I’ll happily claw my way right through you.”

Creed smiles sharply, his tongue darting out to wet his bottom lip. “If I apologize, will you be able to sit your ass down and have a conversation with me?” he asks slowly.

“If you actually mean it, I might not hold this lapse of judgement over you for too long, but something tells me you’re not sorry. In fact, I think you’ll love to see your bruises on me tomorrow,” I say sharply, irritation lacing every syllable.

“Of course I will. You’re mine; have been since the night you let me fuck you,” he says softly, crushing our chests together and cupping my cheek with one hand while the other bands around my waist and holds me close. “Didn’t you feel our souls snapping together? Haven’t you felt our bond growing every day since?” he adds, his voice soothing and gentle, like a lover.

My heart trips over itself because he’s right. And I hate myself a little bit, knowing I’ll enjoy seeing his marks on me, too. Do I even have room to be angry? I close my eyes, fighting against myself. Yes, I do and I am. He dragged me all the way over here, digging his fingers in and giving me the fucking silent treatment, like I was a child. And then he asked if we could talk like adults? Well, I can’t say I’m feeling very mature right now.

But… with a deep breath, I try.

“Creed, you cannot handle me like that. I’m not a possession for you to rough around however you like,” I breathe.

“Yes, you are,” he argues, but there’s no bite to his voice, just… affection. Creed looks directly into my eyes, his whiskey irises holding me hostage. He leans down and presses his forehead to mine, keeping my attention all for himself. “You’re perfect for me, and we both know it. My little broken Ember, who loves the way I hurt you. Or have you forgotten the beautiful way you came for me when I had you pinned in that closet?”

“I hated what you did to me in there!” I argue, shoving against his chest. He doesn’t move an inch, but it helps me feel better. His words have hit a nerve, and I’m lashing out because, once again, he’s right. But how wrong is that? He forced me into that closet and touched me without permission, and even though I was terrified… I loved it. More proof that I really am a broken, damaged, fucked up person.

A flash of hurt cuts through his expression, but it’s gone in an instant. In its place is a determination that should scare me, yet it doesn’t. Not really. Creed may be a monster, but he’s my monster. He said so himself. “You’re wrong, baby. But if you want to keep fighting, then let me prove it.” He lifts me up suddenly and tosses me over his shoulder in a second, striding to his bed while I try to kick out of his hold.

“Creed, stop! Goddammit, you insufferable dick,” I yell, pounding my fists on his back. “I’m not sleeping with you!”

He drops me onto his mattress, taking in a slow breath like he’s calming himself. “Oh, I think you are,” he says. He grabs my ankle as I try to scramble up the bed, pulling me to the edge until my feet hang just inches from the floor.

It’s so similar to the position we were in the night I lost my virginity that a rush of warmth shoots through me and settles between my legs. But I ignore that traitorous heat, no matter what my pussy has to say about it.

Creed leans over me, his deft fingers working the button and zipper open on my jeans. I kick my right leg, catching him in the stomach, unable to hide my victorious smile when he grunts. He rakes his teeth over his bottom lip, warning me with his hard gaze as he grabs the hem of my jeans and yanks them down. The sudden friction burns along my thighs as the denim vanishes, and I cry out in shock, trying to kick him again. Creed doesn’t remove my jeans completely, leaving them bunched at my knees instead so my range is limited. Improvising, I push and shove and hit at his chest, cursing him with every word I can think of.

“Stop fighting me!” he roars, snatching my wrists out of the air and holding them so tightly that I know those areas will be bruised too. “I’m going to fuck you until you remember how much you love what I do to you. And once you’re drained and sated, we can talk like civilized adults, hmm?” he says, his voice rough and unhinged. “Because I’m pissed, Prudence. Don’t mistake my hard cock as forgiveness. You disobeyed me tonight, put yourself in unfathomable danger, and for what? Did you get what you wanted?”

“You put your dick anywhere near me, and I’ll scream,” I snap, ignoring everything else he said. I could kill him right now for being so damn right. Everything he’s said since he dragged me into his room has been a painful truth, even about The Celestials and that damn meeting. No, I didn’t hear anything useful. Yes, I disobeyed and risked my safety, and I did it all for nothing. I’m lucky the only people to see me sneaking around were Creed and Griffin, but I’m so mad at him right now that I’d rather chew my hand off than admit that aloud.

The smile Creed gives me sends a dangerous little thrill through me. “Please fucking do. Let the entire house hear how well you fall apart for me.”

Before I can think of another cutting response, Creed has me flipped over onto my stomach, bent at the waist with my feet on the ground. I claw at his black sheets, trying to pull myself up the bed and away from him. It doesn’t get me fucking anywhere, though. Creed has one hand on my lower back, pushing me into the bed and keeping me still, while his other pushes my black panties to the side.

---