Page 45 of Seeds of Sorrow

“If you’re the devil, consider my soul yours, baby,” Peyton replied. She didn’t mean for the emotion to clog her throat like it did, but shedidmean the words. If her soul was to belong to anyone, she wanted it to be Hadina. There was a darkness in each of them that reached for the other, binding them together. Peyton didn’t completely believe in fate, but there was some higher power bringing them together and she understood the importance of that.

Hadina’s eyes softened slightly and she paused, her lips parting. She wanted to say something, but Peyton could see the war battling behind those dark eyes and she didn’t want to push. Whatever barriers Hadina had, Peyton would stand by the woman’s side until she let them drop.

Hadina shifted herself farther back, before pushing Peyton’s legs open so she could see her. Then she reached for the bullet again, humming her approval before teasing Peyton’s entrance. Peyton gasped, the metal feeling even colder against the scorching heat of her pussy. Her reaction was what Hadina was looking for, those plump perfect lips twitching as she pushed the bullet inside.

“Oh,God,” Peyton cried out, her knuckles turning white as she gripped the edge of the table.

Spurred on by the moans, Hadina picked up the pace and used the bullet like it wasn’t a piece of weaponry. The idea that it was used for something deadly was clearly exciting for them both, Peyton squirming between Hadina’s strong thighs as she kept her pinned in place.

Peyton’s breathing came out in quick pants as Hadina moved the bullet, scraping the tip against that sensitive spot as she pulled it back out while working Peyton closer and closer to orgasm. When Peyton could feel herself start to shake, her walls tightening, Hadina pressed her thumb against her clit. The added pressure was enough to have Peyton screaming, falling over the edge. Her vision blurred as she trembled through her release, Hadina’s name the only thing on her lips.

“I—Hadina—”

“Shh,mi querida, don’t speak. I know.” Entwining their fingers, Hadina squeezed Peyton’s hand, holding tight as the girl came down from her orgasm.

When Peyton’s vision cleared and her breathing slowed, a thought pushed its way forward in her mind and refused to move. As much as she wanted to blame it on how well Hadina fucked her every time, she knew it went deeper than that.

Peyton Dimitra was falling in love with Hadina Adis.

Chapter30

PEYTON

Two weeksof rigorous training was enough to have Peyton aching all over—and not in a fun way. Her limbs were heavy and bruised from learning how to use firearms safely and with precision, though she still didn’t feel confident in her abilities yet.

The third week was combat training with some of Hadina’s workforce. Harris and Hadina watched as Peyton got her ass beat over and over again, her body crumpling to the floor every time her mock-attacker threw a punch her way. One of them was an Asian woman, who said her name was Ume. With her short, black pixie cut and stern stare, she appeared every bit of the fierce warrior Peyton knew her to be. Even after their training sessions, when Ume would help pick Peyton up and tell her she was improving, Peyton was intimidated.

She also kinda wanted to be Ume’s best friend.

“Do you think you’re ready for this?” Hadina asked on the one-month mark of her training. Peyton had been improving slowly but surely, and Harris had even commented that she could handle herself.

“Yes.”

Hadina hummed her disapproval. They had been arguing back and forth for days about whether she was ready to go on her first mission to rescue kids from a shipment that was rumored to be due into port. It didn’t matter how many times she assured Hadina that she was ready; Hadina shook her head and told her she needed to train more.

“What about if you just—”

Peyton held up a hand and shook her head. “No. Training can continuewhilewe start going on missions together. The only way I’m going to learn is if I’m there with you, seeing it all firsthand.”

Hadina looked about ready to argue some more when Harris piped up from where he was leaning on the kitchen doorframe, watching them with an amused smile playing on his lips. He rubbed a hand across his stubbled jaw. “She’s right, boss. She’ll learn better on the job.”

Fixing the man with a death glare, Hadina flipped him off before sighing and slumping into her seat. “Fine. But if she gets hurt,te cortare las bolas.” Neither Peyton nor Harris had to be fluent in Spanish to understand Hadina’s threat, especially when it was coupled with a mock demonstration.

* * *

A slight tingeof regret colored her emotions as Peyton got strapped up for their mission. It wasn’t that she wasn’t ready—she had meant it when she told Hadina that she had to do this—but rather, she wasn’t sure she could face seeing all those children with bruised bodies and broken souls. Then again, it was selfish of her to feel like that when those kids had faced everything that brought them there. The least she could do was wear a mask of bravery and attempt to save them from worse fates.

“You ready?” Ume asked from beside her, handing Peyton a blade before inserting her own into the sheath at her side.

Clearing her head, Peyton nodded curtly at Ume, grabbing the blade and following suit. Then she steadied her shaky hand, pulled her gun from its holster, and held it at her side, making sure it was pointed towards the ground. “Ready.”

They had been briefed in the old car lot a few blocks over before they arrived. Hadina had told her that they always made their game plan before moving to the location, so that they could be as quiet as possible on arrival, without rousing suspicion to catch their target off-guard.

Now, they were padding as silently as they could through the forest surrounding the hidden building. Peyton looked to her right and saw Harris nod, motioning with two fingers for them to advance. Her heart pounded in her chest as she crept forward, the heavy breathing and occasional crunch of twigs snapping the only things she could hear. She wanted to look around for Hadina but this was her chance to prove that she didn’t need a safety blanket—she could do this on her own.

Ume pulled open a side door and led the way with Peyton hot on her heels. The stench of dampness and mold assaulted their nostrils as they rounded the first corner and landed in a corridor. Dull lights flickered every few feet, casting an orange glow and making it look like something straight from hell. Which, she supposed, it actually was. A man-made hellscape for the torture, distribution, and murder of vulnerable kids. It made Peyton want to vomit.

She was part of the group looking for Ian Lastra, the leader of this fucked-up ordeal. There was a good chance she’d been assigned to this specific group as a test; Lastra was to be killed on sight. There was no information he could give them that they didn’t already have, nullifying any usefulness he might offer. While it hadn’t explicitly been said, Peyton was to be the one to pull the trigger.

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