Page 4 of Poisonous Savage

Herwords were strong, but they were nothing but noise to me.Ilet my lips curl into a smirk, feeling the pulse of power course through my veins.Thiswas the game, andIwas always several moves ahead.

"Sweetheart, you think defiance is your weapon?"Istepped closer, my shadow swallowing her light. "Thinkagain.Yourspirit?I'llcage it.Yourwill?I'llbreak it."

Shebristled, andItasted her fury, savored it like a fine whiskey.Myamusement was clear as day, a silent chuckle at the tantrum unfolding before me.

"Resistall you want,"Ileaned in, breath ghosting over her flushed cheek. "Inthe end, you'll be begging to wear my ring, to share my bed.You'llcrave the very darkness you're cursing now."

Mygrip was iron on her arm.Idrew her close, my whisper a lethal promise.

"Rememberthis,RosalindThorn,"Ipressed the words against her ear, a serpent's hiss. "Yourun, you hide, you fight...doesn't fucking matter.You'remine, and there ain't no walking away from that.Notfor you, not for anyone."

"Move,"Igrowled.

Rosalind'spulse thrummed against my palm.Shestumbled again, nearly tripping over her own feet.Ididn’t slow down, didn’t soften the clutchIhad on her.Bitchesgotta learn, and she'd learn quickly thatIwasn't the type to fuck around with.

"Keepup,"Isnapped, ignoring the sharp intake of her breath.Herdefiance was still there, a fire banked but burning behind those dark eyes.Eyesthat fucking dared to challenge me even now.Itwas almost endearing.Mademy lips twitch with the ghost of another smirk.Mademy cock hard to think of all the waysI'dbreak her.

"Welcometo your new life,Rosalind,"Isaid, half to myself, feeling the truth of it settle in my gut.Shewas mine to mold, mine to break.AndbyGod,I'denjoy every fucked-up second of it.

Shemuttered expletives under her breath.Ihated it.Sucha beautiful, full mouth shouldn't be talking shit.Itshould be sucking my dick.

"Takeit in, sweetheart,"Imuttered, knowing the sight would claw at her insides, rip away any hope she clung to.Thegrandeur was a slap to the face—a reminder that she was nothing but a pawn in the game.Mygame.

Hereyes darted across the sprawling expanse, absorbing the lavish cruelty of her new cage.Highceilings loomed like watchful wardens, the crystal chandeliers above glintinglike a thousand unblinking eyes.Theplace was full of luxury.

"Fuck," she whispered, almost too low for my ears.Thatlittle tremble in her voice—music to me, a symphony of the powerIheld over her.

Wepassed by portraits of my predecessors, dead men with eyes as hard as mine, their stares drilling into her very soul.Fearetched itself upon her face, but there was something else—something that intrigued me.

Achuckle escaped me, dark and satisfied.Lether burn with hate, let it consume her—it only made my victory sweeter.

"Welcometo your fucking palace, princess,"Isneered, a twisted coronation for the queen of my underworld.Hergaze flicked toward me, those dark eyes alight with a silent vow.Shewouldn’t bow, not yet.Butshe would learn—everyone did.

Myhand on her back pushed her forward, the pressure a constant reminder: you’re mine, doll.

"Beautiful, isn’t it?"Imurmured, sarcasm lacing my words. "Everythinga girl could wish for—except a way out."

Shestumbled, andIcaught her, righting her before we kept climbing up the stairs to our now shared room.Herbody against mine, a mixture of curves and defiance, was a battlefieldIintended to conquer.

"Getused to it,"Ibreathed into her ear, the heat of my breath a warning of the storm to come. "Thisis your life now.Youand me, baby—we’re going to rule this shithole city together.Andyou’ll fucking smile while we do it."

Eachstep deeper into the mansion solidified her fate, but her spirit—goddamn, it flared brighter.Shewas a captive, sure, but she was no victim.Notyet.AndasIled her through the belly of the beastIcalled home,Icouldn’t help but admire the hellfireI’dcaptured.

Braceyourself, sweetheart.Iwatched her steel herself against the dread as we approached our room.You'rein my world now—andI’mthe darkest fucking part of it.

ROSALIND

Istood there, a damn sacrificial lamb in the cold halls ofHunter'smansion.Myheart thudded, each beat a rebellion against my fate.Themarble beneath my feet might as well have been a gravestone.Aplace from whichIcouldn't escape.Iwas happy once, a creature of nature and sunlight, but darkness loomed in the shadow of the mafia king, eager to swallow me whole.Theworst part was thatIwould likely succumb.Itwas in my blood.

Theair reeked of old money and my own fear.Hunter'shouse, more a fortress than a home, stretched around me.Itwas our wedding day, and this is where he chose to hold it.Hiddenaway soIdon't become a 'target'.Mydress, white as snow, clung to me, a joke given my innocence had long been lost.

Footsteps.Hisfootsteps.Thepredator of theNewMexicochapter ofTheCinderCrewprowled toward me, power radiating from him.Hewore violence as comfortably as the tailored black suit that hugged his muscular frame, the fabric straining over bulky muscles.He'dprobably be conventionally attractive if he wasn't such a brute.Crew-cut hair with almost black eyes and a permanent 5 o'clock shadow.It'sunfortunate he was... this.

Hisnearly black eyes fixed on me, a glint in them sharp enough to cut.Theywere eyes that had seen death, delivered it, relished it.

Hereached for me, his hand engulfing mine, calloused and strong.Ithought about the bodies of waterIloved and how their depths could soothe or swallow.Ishould never have come up that last swim withLuce.Lifewould have ended with peaceful sips of whereIfelt at peace.

"Hello, bride," his voice rumbled low, every syllable a claim.

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