Page 138 of Unholy Bonds

With a swift motion, he spun me around, the force of his movement sending me crashing against the rough bark of the tree. Pain flared where my back met the trunk, but it paled in comparison to the nervousness coursing through my veins. Ryden…

He knew.

Now, what the fuck am I supposed to do, Kat?

“Ryden, let go.”

Every line of his face radiated anger. His grip on my hair tightened. He tugged it with a curse, eliciting a hiss of pain from my lips.

My eyes went to the glinting knife in his hand, and before I could do or say something, he pressed the blade against my throat with a growl. The sneer on his lips was bitter and mocking. “Hello, K.Y. Fucking Wolff.” His words were venom.

The web of secrets and betrayal that bound us together was finally unraveling, and I had nowhere to run, and no one else to blame. Here I was, and here he was.

“Admit it, Yara. You’re K.Y. Wolff.” The way he said my name was like a curse. Not the good kind of curse, either. “You fucking played me.”

I saw the flicker of rage so primal, so consuming that it made my back stiff.

“You knew about me from the first fucking day. You came into my home, and then batted your fucking eyes at me like you were innocent.” His eyes were murderous as he pressed the cold metal against my throat further, but I knew he was being extremely careful not to cut me.

There wasn’t a smidgen of fear in me. I was confident Ryden would never hurt me.

“Say something. Fucking say something.”

A part of me was glad that he finally knew my secrets. The relief I felt was powerful.

“Do you mind?” I said, pointing to the knife, and his eyes narrowed.

“The audacity…” he growled, pressing his body against mine, and the hint of his arousal made me heady. Even when he was angry, he wanted me, and that was all I needed to know.

I was glad it wasn’t the kind of anger that made his lust for me lessen. I wanted him like this, always, always begging for my touch, needing me even in the worst possible moment.

When he was near me, my body was only controlled by lust and not by common sense, and it was great to know that he wasn’t better than me at our game.

“What an amazing liar. What a fucking impressive game. Did you laugh at me when I was following you like a fucking dog? Did it make you feel powerful?”

“Yes, it did make me feel powerful.” That was the truth. It had always been, but he’d never know the other side of the truth. He was one of the very few who had ever made me feel weak. I wasn’t made for weakness, but somehow, he had found a way to breach the fucking walls.

He growled again. “Shut the fuck up, or I don’t know what I’ll do to you.”

“Hmm, it looks like your cock knows exactly what it wants to do to me,” I sang, my eyes meeting him in a challenge, and he grunted again and felt the knife nicking my skin. The sting of the blade made me groan.

I saw the anger flashing, and instead of fear, I felt lust. I wanted him to use his anger to tear me down.

“Do you ever think before you fucking talk?” His voice was a whisper, but the anger still lingered in his eyes, and then it became frustration when he realized I was bleeding. I didn’t care, but he did. “Fuck. You should have just kept your mouth shut.”

“But you love it when my mouth is open and around your cock,” I said as he took the knife away and pressed a finger against the drop of blood with a curse.

“You’re a fucking psycho. I should have known,” he snapped.

“Now that you’ve finally caught me, what are you going to do?” I whispered, and he stared at my mouth like he wanted to bite my tongue off.

The heat of his breath stroked my parted lips as he bared his teeth at me, looking like a rabid animal ready for its next meal. Oh, how badly I wanted to be his next meal.

“I don’t know what I’m supposed to do with you, you fucking demon from hell.”

“Kill me?” I asked, looking up at him. “I’m sorry you were hurt, Ryden, but I’m not sorry I killed Victor, just as you weren’t sorry you killed Jacob and Phil.”

“Maybe I should kill you. It’d be the end of all my problems,” he said, his eyes out of focus as he leaned closer, and then he bit my lip, hard, until I tasted blood. “I’d rather fucking kiss you. It’s infuriating.” It was obvious that he hated the fact that he would rather kiss me than kill me. He didn’t do anything to hide it as he pulled away and wiped the blood from his lips.

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