Page 32 of The Queen's Serpent

I should be horrified at my actions, should be screaming at what I have done, what he has urged me to do, but something inside of me has cracked open, and instead of fear, for once in my life, I feel euphoria. I feel alive, and filled with something that I can’t name, something that calls to me and urges me to not stop.

That thought brings me back to the reality of the moment, and I stare at the red mass in front of me, more bloody red meat than man. He’s dead; his head hangs low, and his body is still. At some point, he must have died from all of his injuries, but the bloodlust I was under didn’t stop me from continuing to slice him open.

I. Did. That.I killed him. It was me who took his life.

“Such agood girl, you are perfect, baby. Fucking perfect.“ Diego’s voice penetrates the fog surrounding me as he pries the blade from my hand, and I hear it clank down to the ground.

The horror of what I’ve done tries to hit me, but instead of succumbing to it and falling on the floor in the fetal position, I push away from Diego and walk back toward the house. My limbs feel wobbly, and that buzzing sound is back, louder than before. My chest feels tight, as if it’s constricting all the air inside of my lungs and trying to suffocate me.

I enter the den the same way I was forced to leave it, only this time, I am no longer Issy, but some creature that has taken a life. I am a murderer, regardless of if that man was sent to kill Diegoor me, regardless of if he would have done unspeakable things to me, if he was able to get his hands on me. The proof of my villainous actions covers me, sliding along my skin, and sings to the madness that wants to take me in its grasp.

I killed someone. I, Isabella Stratford, am amurderer.

My eyes lift and meet my reflection in a mirror outside of the den, but the woman staring back at me doesn’t look like me. She resembles a demon from hell, covered in blood.Lilithin her finest hour. Is that who I am? Is that who I was always meant to be? Perhaps my weak facade was just that, a facade hiding a monster just as sinister as that of Diego Cabano.

Perhaps that was why I was instantly attracted to him.I am just like him.

I stare at the reflection, and the corners of my lips rise unbidden back at me. The sight is so startling that I take a step back and then another, until my back comes up against a firm, warm surface, and I pry my eyes away from the creature in the mirror and meet two green orbs that stare back at me with nothing but insanity, pride, and lust.

In that very moment, I realize I’m unequivocally a monster just like he is, and I’m not even the slightest remorseful about it. Diego Cabano wanted to break, rebuild, and force me to be stronger. He may have just succeeded, but what I bet he didn’t count on, was that I would turn into a monster that would rival his own.

Chapter eighteen

Diego

“When you spend so long trapped in darkness, Lucien,you find that the darkness begins to stare back.”

Sarah J. Maas (A Court of Mist and Fury (A Court of Thorns and Roses, #2))

I stare at her reflection in the mirror, covered in my enemy’s blood. The corner of her lips rises in a sinful smirk that has my balls tightening in my pants, and my cock rock hard instantly. She looks like a dream, a sinful, dark dream with an avenging angel sent down from heaven to wreak havoc on mankind.Fuck, she doesn’t even look real.

My mind should be telling me to turn and run; self-preservation should be kicking in right the fuck now. I should be terrified at the look on her face, which promises nothing but dark deeds, and signifies that she has finally cracked, and splintered all her restraint and control. I’ve never been great at keeping myself out of harm’s way, and fuck knows, I won’t be starting now.

Issy has never looked more insane, beautiful, and sexy than she does at this moment. Her sapphire eyes shine through the red haze she’s covered in, and in their depths, I see the same insatiable madness that lives inside of me. The one that has corrupted everything that was once pure within me and turned it dark, and now is doing the same to her.

I should be worried that I have broken her, that she has finally snapped and is tarnished beyond repair, but instead, all I feel isdesire racing through my bloodstream. The desire to chase her and run her to the ground like a beast, force her to take my cock, and hear her scream my name is paramount. It’s a live wire of electricity running through my veins, looking for an outlet.Mine.

My chest presses firmly into her small back, and a shiver races through her limbs, the slickness of her skin and the beating of her heart thunderous against my own. It’s not enough. Being this close to her is not enough, and even if I crawled inside of her, it would never be enough.

I slide my hand forward and grip around her throat, the feeling of her pulse below my fingers a sensation that further increases the blood flow to my already painfully hard cock.Thud, thud, thud,what beautiful fucking music it makes. The sound of her finally alive.My Issy, my whore, my whole world, mine.

I release my grip, even though my desire is to tighten my fingers further, and feel her breath stall inside of her chest. I need more of her. I need everything she has, everything she will ever be, to be mine,only mine.I grab her arms and push her away from me, that feeling mounting inside of me until it threatens to tear me apart. My hands clench tightly into fists to prevent me from hoisting her over my shoulder, and taking her somewhere dark and confining, where I can keep her entirely at my mercy, chained to a fucking wall, and I can unleash all of my dark, depraved fantasies on her sinful body.

Her beautiful eyes, alight with bloodlust, life, and unleashed madness, continue to hold my stare in the reflection, and her pink tongue slips out and swipes at her bottom lip. The lip that is still covered in my enemy’s blood. That snaps the last vestige of strength and restraint that I have left. “RUN, ISSY!”

She doesn’t hesitate even for a moment, turning on her bare feet and sprinting away from me, as my chest heaves with the effort not to chase her. I am more wolf than man at the moment,and my prey is getting away. The sound of her feet slapping across the stone floors as she leaves me behind is a ragged tempo beating in my heart.

Chase, run her down, make her fucking cry, punish her; the thoughts swirl inside my head, with the sound from the ‘Purge’movie as their soundtrack. A feral growl leaves my lips, and I slam my fist into my wall, trying to control the raging emotions that are careening through me. I need to garner some control before I hurt her.My prize, my queen, my dark angel.

I see Santiago out of the corner of my eye, cautiously trying to approach me as if he knows that I am just moments away from snapping, and becoming more beast than man. I bare my teeth to him in a warning. In his eyes, I witness a morbid curiosity, but also fear. He doesn’t know what to make of Issy’s actions, of her violence, or my reaction to her. He doesn’t understand that I have just shattered and rebuilt her, in an image that will rule by my side.My dark queen, and I will be her serpent, filling her with venom and ensuring she never leaves my side.

“Do not interfere, no matter what sounds you hear,” are my parting words before I give chase to my broken doll. I tear through the main rooms, searching her out. Her bloody footsteps leave an easy trail to follow, that is, until it leads back outdoors, and I lose her in some of the thick fauna.

Fuck, yes!MyPrincesawants to play, and I’m amped up and ready to chase her through the fucking jungle.

I move slowly through the thick bushes and fauna around us, the scent of earth, vegetation, and humid jungle air helping to clear my senses. The call of birds and wildlife above me makes it harder to determine where my beautiful prey has headed. The heat is already rising all around me, and sweat starts to bead on my hairline, further irritating me. The need to catch her and sink my teeth into her soft flesh is paramount. I want to ravish her, leave my marks all over her delectable body, covering her in myscent, and fill her with my cum until it drips out of her, so I can claim her as my own.

Isabella Stratford is more than a woman to me, and she is more than a prize to be stolen from her family and forced to my side. No, Isabella Stratford is anobsession,one that I never wish to be cured of. She is my heart, soul, and future, wrapped in a small, damaged package.

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