Page 87 of Their Dark Rose

“Normal is…” He presses the blade to the spot behind his earlobe. Where it’s attached to Coleman’s head. “…cutting up someone who’s an asshole to my family.”

One second, Coleman has his earlobe in place. The next, the ear is in Finn’s hand.

Blood gushes down his throat, staining Coleman’s sweater as he screams in pain.

Falk snarls in disgust, thrusting the crying Coleman to the floor.

“Fix the mess you’ve created, asshole.” Mason hovers over him. His few words and low tone are just as ominous as Finn’s knife-wielding hand or the vein pumping on Falk’s temple. “Consider this is your last warning.”

Snot runs down Coleman’s nose as he picks himself off the floor. He nods, making a dash to our front door.

“And Coleman?” I call behind him.

His hand trembles on our door handle, but he turns around anyway.

“Tell whoever the fuck you want about us.” Taking a step toward him, I put my hands on my hips. I smirk, letting my bratty side out on someone other than Falk and getting a sick kick from how Coleman cowers from me. “We’re consenting adults. I dare anyone to judge us.”

My unspoken threat rings loud in our home. Coleman whimpers, slipping out of our home and out into the cold street.

Three hands press to my body. I’m better, stronger, and more confident for them.

We’re going to have such a beautiful future.

“Jesus, I thought he’d never leave,” Finn says before picking me up in his arms and swallowing the distance to the living room. His eyes are dark, his tone sinister. “All this blood, I need to touch you. I’m dying to make you come again.”

“Dying?” I bat my eyelashes. “Really?”

He’s not affected by my teasing, throwing me unceremoniously onto our plush sofa.

“Yes, little rose.” Finn kneels on the marble floor, ripping his leather jacket off and wiping his bloodied fingers on my cheek. Cleaning himself on me.

His eyes aren’t predatorial—they devour me, piece by piece. “Freaking dying.”

My shoes are yanked off me. My socks too. I’m being manhandled into a sitting position, a little doll for Finn to play with.

For the others, too.

“I won’t survive another second…” While Falk and Mason remove their jackets and shirts, Finn leans on me, snapping my jeans button out of the loop. “Without sucking your clit.”

“Again?” I breathe out.

“Again. And again. And again.”

Any playfulness I might have had gets punched right out of me.

“What’s that silence?” Mason rounds the sofa, his fingers hooking on the hem of my hoodie. I barely have a chance to lift my arms before he whips the garment off me. “I thought you were in a teasing mood, flower.”

I tilt my head up, watching ice-blue eyes staring down at me. I’m struggling to get air in my lungs while Finn wrangles my panties off me, and I part my lips, trying to inhale.

Mason’s blue orbs become so dark they’re practically black.

“Get her on her knees, Finn,” he thunders.

Finn’s lips hike to the side. “My thoughts exactly.”

His deft hands grab my hips. His muscled arms haul me off the sofa.

“Such a good girl.” Falk bends over, gripping my chin to spin my head to him. His lips are so close that I smell the mouthwash he used after lunch—minty and absolutely yummy. “I knew you’d like this life. That you’d love us, what we do. Had no doubt about how ready you are. You were always up for a good fight, princess.”

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