Page 43 of Obsession

My breath hitched, each exhalation misting in the cold air, my heart pounding a frantic rhythm against my ribs. This was the world we were bringing our child into, a world where savagery was the currency of survival.

“Look at them, Hollis!” Riot bellowed, gesturing with bloodied hands to the broken body before us. “This is power! This is what we are!”

The night seemed to hold its breath, the only sounds now were the wet thuds of flesh yielding to force, of life being extinguished with every strike. And as much as I wanted to run, to flee from the horror, my feet remained planted, my soul ensnared by the grisly sight and by the man whose love was a dangerous, lethal thing.

“Riot, stop,” I whispered, but it was lost to the wind, tossed aside like the discarded humanity we left in our wake. The darkness had taken over, and I, in my terror and awe, couldn’t look away.

I watched, numb and transfixed, as Riot’s frenzy carved a path of carnage. The darkness within him was a chasm so deep it threatened to swallow us both. His hands, those same hands that had caressed me with something akin to tenderness, were now instruments of ruthless destruction, painting the alleyway in shades of crimson.

“Can you feel it?” he asked, his voice barely human, thick with primal triumph. “This is our truth, Hollis. This is what we are.”

My own breaths came in ragged gasps, mirroring the punctured wheezing of our victim. There was no denying the surge within me, an echo of Riot’s own hunger -- a darkness I’d tried to bury, but now blossomed violently under his influence.

“Riot. Enough.”

He didn’t hear, or chose not to, lost in the glory of his savagery. My eyes, wide and unblinking, couldn’t escape the magnetic pull of his actions. This was the man I loved, the father of my unborn child, a man as captivating as he was fearsome.

When at last the struggle ceased, and only the sound of our heavy breathing filled the void, I knew something fundamental had shifted. We stood there, covered in the remnants of a life he’d just extinguished, our shadows entwined on the cracked pavement.

“Look at us,” Riot whispered, his voice softening as he turned to me, his eyes still alight with the embers of his insanity. “We’re unstoppable, you and I. Together, we’re gods of this damned place.”

His hand reached for mine, and I didn’t -- couldn’t -- pull away. Our fingers slid together, slick with another’s blood, sealing an unspoken covenant.

“Forever,” I murmured, the word tasting like a sin on my lips, binding me to him more surely than any vow.

“Forever,” he echoed, and in his grasp, I felt the terrible weight of our joined fates.

We walked away from the cooling body, the echo of its last breath still clawing at the silence. The night air reeked of iron and fear -- a twisted aphrodisiac. Riot’s grip on me was unyielding, his blood-drenched arms encircling my waist with a possessive ferocity.

“Look at you,” he said, his voice a low rumble against the shell of my ear. “Beautiful and feral. I can feel your need, Hollis. You wanted to join me. Wanted to make him scream and beg.”

I leaned back against him, the slick warmth of his chest seeping through my shirt. He was right. Some part of me had wanted to join him, to hurt that man. There was no denying it now. I was as lost in this madness as he was -- our souls stitched together with each thread of darkness we embraced.

“Monsters,” I mumbled.

“Monsters,” he agreed, his lips trailing a path of fire down my neck. “But we’re alive, Hollis. More alive than any of those sheep pretending to sleep in their beds tonight. We see the truth. Only the strong can survive in this hellish place, and it’s up to us to weed out the weak.”

The raw truth of his words ignited something within me, a fierce joy that burned all the more brightly against the backdrop of his brutality. Riot’s hands roamed over my body, and I reveled in the harsh touch. In this depraved dance, we were untouchable, bound by blood and violence.

I turned to face him, the remnants of his victim smeared across us both like war paint. His eyes burned into mine with a lust that matched the savagery of his soul.

Our lips crashed together. As I tasted the copper tang of blood, I surrendered to the havoc churning within me. The darkness coiled around us, a serpent constricting tighter with every pulse of our entwined hearts.

“Yours,” he said between violent kisses, claiming me as his equal in this grotesque realm he ruled. “If anyone can claim me, it’s you, Hollis. Only you.”

“Yours,” I murmured. “I’ve never belonged to anyone but you, and I never will.”

And there, amidst the shadows of Raven’s Vale, we found solace in each other’s arms, our love a twisted reflection of the monster Riot had always been, and the one I’d become.

Chapter Sixteen

Riot

I dragged Hollis through the streets of Raven’s Vale, my fingers biting into her flesh. I’d likely leave bruises, yet another mark to show she’s mine. The moon was a sickly sliver in the sky, casting just enough light to dance with shadows on the cracked pavement. Every building loomed as a silent witness to our midnight prowl.

“Riot.” She yanked hard on my arm. I damn near stumbled, her sudden defiance a surprise I hadn’t anticipated.

“What?” I asked, following the jab of her finger. There, cloaked in the ink of night, stood our next plaything -- a silhouette marinated in potential terror.

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