Page 68 of They Break Beauty

Squinting for a few moments, I was able to see that a text message had come in an hour ago and it kept vibrating like it always did until I acknowledged the notification.

I swiped it open and found a message from the man who was now equally a part of my fantasies and nightmares alike.

Hell Spawn: You were the star of my dreams last night. You were riding my cock like a feral thing while I sucked on your breasts making your nipples red-raw as you shrieked out my name loud enough to wake the fucking dead.

Crap. So much for him losing interest.

I didn’t respond and put my phone back down on my nightstand instead, trying to ignore the tingle his words had caused between my thighs. Damn him.

I scrubbed my hand over my face, then went to sit up, only to knock something off onto the floor in the process.

I peered down the side of the bed to see that my big book of fairytales had dropped.

That was weird. I kept it on the opposite nightstand after I was done reading a story to help me sleep. And with the medicine I’d needed last night, I hadn’t even read it.

I picked it up and that was when I noticed that my bookmark wasn’t in there. Something else was.

I stilled for a moment as I took in the lavender and dandelions being used as a marker instead.

“What the hell?”

I hefted the book back onto the bed, then opened it at the place the flowers were thrust between. I started as I found a folded piece of paper there marked in elegant handwriting, For Brianna.

Opening it, my breath caught in my throat as I read the contents.

Prince Charmings are highly overrated. A possessive villain is much more arousing. He'll give you the dark thrill you crave.

Sweet dreams, Wildflower.

“Oh my God,” I choked, slamming the book closed with the flowers and the note still inside.

Levi Knight had been here in my apartment.

In my freaking bedroom!

Last night!

He’d been right up close to me as I’d slept heavily under the influence of the meds.

My phone buzzed again.

I found another text from that clearly unhinged—more than I’d even realized—maniac.

Hell Spawn: Can’t get the sensation of your needy cunt strangling my fingers off my mind.

Before I could even process that, he sent another.

Hell Spawn: You’re reading but not responding. I’m hurt. I was actually hoping for a good morning text from you after last night.

Hell Spawn: Colt’s here with me. We just got to campus. You’re running late, want me to cover for you with our professor?

Our professor?

Brianna: You’re in my Operating Systems class?

Hell Spawn: Sure am. You coming?

How was he—he was coming back as a fourth year. That class was for sophomores.

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