Page 43 of Heart of Frost and Scars

But I’m not him.

This devil doesn’t bargain.

I take.

I’m a monster on the cusp of insanity. A stalker in the night. Her silent ache, haunting her from the darkness.

But beneath the horror of my actions, there’s a man who’s just lonely, broken, and desperately in love. A man who wishes more than anything that things were different, that she still wanted him the way he wants her.

Fuck.

What am I doing?

I rip off the goggles and pace through the attic, stirring up dust. The floorboards creak underfoot, the sound amplified in the stillness.

Cobwebs drape the rafters, and an old, musty smell dangles in the air, mingling with the sharp, metallic tang of cold. The temperature hovers just above freezing, unlike the sweltering heat in the guest house.

Why am I here?

What am I doing?

A chill seeps into my chest, but my heart is already cold. Split-open. Scarred beyond recognition.

What am I fucking doing?

She’s humiliating me. Controlling me. Fucking two men—two Strakh men—while I watch from the shadows. She’s a goddamn cockhold.

I have banged more women than there are days in a year. I fucked them in twos and threes. Sometimes five or six at a time. Before I met Frankie, I had a penthouse in Anchorage just to host sex parties. Women-only invites, and they came by the dozens.

I have more stamina than a horse, even at my age. My sex drive is legendary. No one can satisfy it.

Except her.

I don’t know what kind of succubus-level magic she’s wielding, but with her, the sensations are different. The chemistry, the orgasms, the connection—everything with her hits differently. Her sexual magnetism is so fucking intense it terrifies me and makes me insanely hard.

The first time I sank into her body, I knew.

I didn’t need a bed full of women to get off.

I only need one woman.

Her.

My life before Frankie had no flavor, no meaning, no purpose. It was sex without feeling. A book with blank pages.

I cannot go back to that.

I won’t.

Leo and Kody aren’t going anywhere. They’re addicts like me. But I have something they don’t.

Money. A lot of it.

She needs me.

Feeling calmer, I return to the window, set my phone on the ledge, and slip on the goggles.

A shroud of stillness cloaks the guest house. Two unmoving male bodies sprawl on the bed, passed out.

---