Page 12 of Corrupted Tyrant

I blink, taken aback by her bold question. Candy saves me from having to answer, looping her arm through mine with a laugh.

“Oh, he wishes,” she says, her tone light and teasing. “This is Courage, my bodyguard. He keeps me safe from overenthusiastic fans.” She winks, taking any sting out of her words. The girl looks me up and down, her gaze lingering on my jaw, my lips—still pulled tight over my fangs to keep them hidden.

“He’s hot. You should totally hit that.”

Before I can sputter out a response, Candy is steering me away, her shoulders shaking with barely suppressed laughter.

“I am so sorry.” Her voice strained with mirth. “I forgot how… direct teenage girls can be.”

“Can’t wait to read what they post online later,” I mutter, trying to ignore the heat creeping up the back of my neck. “The fanfiction alone will probably make your pink hair curl.”

“Oh, please. Like I haven’t been the subject of thirsty fanfic since my KEN days.” She tosses her hair over her shoulder, a wicked glint in her eye. “Though I have to say, the idea of you starring in some steamy bodice-ripper is pretty hilarious.”

I raise my brows, feigning offense. “What, you don’t think I could play the dashing romantic hero?”

“Oh, I have no doubt you’d excel at the dashing part.” Her gaze rakes over me, lingering on my shoulders, my chest. “It’s the romantic bit I’m skeptical about. I bet you’re all Heathcliff—broody intensity and smoldering glances, but the second emotions come into play, you’re like a deer in headlights.”

I clutch my chest, staggering back a step. “You wound me, Candy. I’ll have you know I’m a regular Casanova. Romance is my middle name.”

She laughs, the sound bright and musical. “Courage Romance Wolven? Mmm, doesn’t have a ring to it.”

“I’m full of surprises,” I growl playfully, enjoying the way her cheeks flush at the sound. “Stick around, rock star. You might learn a thing or two.”

Her eyes meet mine, something heated and challenging sparking in their depths. “Promises, promises. You’re all talk, wolven.”

The air between us sparks, the easy banter giving way to something heavier, more charged. I’m acutely aware of how close we’re standing, the way her body curves toward mine like a flower seeking the sun. And her scent curling in my nostrils is making me fucking crazy.

I open my mouth to reply, but before I can, a voice cuts through the tension like a blade.

“Well, well. Fancy meeting you here, Candy girl.”

We both stiffen, turning to face the newcomer. He’s mid-thirties, with slicked-back hair and a condescending smirk. Everything about him screams “Eurotrash,” from his posh English accent to his designer sunglasses to his too-tight T-shirt and skinny jeans.

Candy’s jaw clenches, her eyes hardening to chips of green ice. “Vince. What are you doing here?”

Vince spreads his hands wide, his grin widening. “Just taking in the sights. You know me, always on the lookout for the next big thing.” He shrugs, then admits. “Someone posted a photo of you on Insta an hour ago, and since I was in town, I thought I’d say hello.”

I’ve known the man all of one minute and I’m contemplating five ways to kill him because of how his lecherous glance is eating her up.

“And you, sweetcheeks? You’re still the biggest game in town.” His gaze slides over to me, his brows raising. “Although it looks like you’ve picked up a new… accessory since last we met.”

A low growl rumbles in my chest, my hackles rising at the blatant disrespect in his tone. But Candy places a hand on my arm, her touch light but firm.

“Courage is my bodyguard,” she says coolly. “And you’re right, I have upgraded my accessories since dumping your slimy ass. Now, if you’ll excuse us, we have places to be.”

She turns away, but Vince’s hand shoots out, grabbing her wrist. Candy stiffens, a sharp inhale hissing through her teeth. I lock all my joints to keep from leaping and eviscerating him.

“Now, now, is that any way to talk to your favorite collaborator? I practically made you, Candy. You couldn’t be a child actress forever. Without me, you’d still be singing for free in local taverns.”

My vision clouds red, a snarl ripping from my throat. Before he can blink, I have his wrist in my grip, my claws digging into his flesh as I wrench his hand away from Candy.

“Touch her again and I’ll rip your fucking arm off.” My voice is barely recognizable, more animal than humanoid, especially since the threat was made through clenched teeth. “She said we’re leaving. So beat it before I beat you.”

Vince’s eyes widen, shock and fear mingling on his face as he tries to yank his arm free. But my grip is iron, my strength fueled by rage and the overwhelming need to protect what’s mine.

Wait… mine? Where the hell did that come from?

I shake off the thought, focusing on the threat at hand. Vince is sputtering now, his bravado shriveling under the heat of my glare.

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