Page 87 of Caged

No pleasure is in this, only pain. She needs to feel what she’s done to me.

With ease, I lift her from her feet and spin her around, feeling the rush of excitement as I press her slender frame against the iron gate.

Despite the relentless barrage of kicks to my gut, I refuse to back down. Rage pulses through every fiber of my body.

As she fights against me, I can feel her resistance, but I only tighten my hold and lean in further.

“Predatelnica. Traitor,” I grit out.

Pulling back, I look into her dark eyes. Pain is all I see.

It’s like looking in a mirror.

And then I feel the sharp sting in my neck. I don’t need to look to know that there is a knife pressed against my artery.

“Fuck you,” She spits out, spraying droplets across my face.

Then she lands a blow straight into my groin with her boot.

I release her and stumble back, watching as she clutches onto her throat. When I swipe my own neck, the warm stickiness of blood stains my fingers.

“I need you to let me go,” she croaks out. “It doesn’t have to end like this.”

Straightening my spine, I hear a satisfying crack as I rotate my jaw to either side and shake my head.

“Not a fucking chance, Mila.”

Her eyes go wide and I can’t hide my smirk.

Gotcha.

Just as she is about to flee, I grab ahold of her arm, forcefully pulling her closer to me. I press her back against me, while my forearm tightens around her throat.

“Who the fuck are you?” I hiss.

“Mila.”

The pain shoots through my hand as her teeth sink into it, and, at the same time, she lands a brutal blow with her elbow directly into my ribs.

It hurts badly enough to make me let go. This time, she runs for her life, directly toward the tree line.

I don’t let her dark hair sway out of my sight.

Just as I catch up to her, she abruptly halts and fixes me with a malevolent gaze. When I reach out, a searing pain shoots through my hand, making me wince.

What the hell did she do to me? She stabbed me with a shard of ice? She recoils in surprise when I remove it, causing warm blood to trickle down my palm.

A growl erupts from my chest.

With my good hand, I reach out to grab her, but she dodges my attempt and lands on the ground with a thud.

The fear in her eyes serves as a motivating force for me.

She scoots back on her ass through the snow. “I can’t die yet, Niki.”

There’s panic in her voice. It’s raw. Like, she’s hiding something painful.

“You’re in the wrong career, Mila. Should have gone into acting.” I grab her by the neck, pulling her up to her feet and flinging her against the sturdy tree trunk.

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