Page 92 of Breaker

Seeing the evidence on her skin makes it real.

So does the thrumming need for blood coursing through me.

Noise fills my head, drowning out all sounds. I hear her telling me he just bit her,just bit, like that’s not enough to justify my rage, and that he didn’t assault her.

Likeshe’sreassuringme.

Our Little Red is trying to make me feel better about the violence inflicted upon her.

The reality makes my gut churn. I want to tell her she doesn’t need to soothe me. I’m not the one that needs reassurance. I’m not upset with her, but the room tilts slightly, and I think I may pass out from the surge of anger, rage, fear, and the absolute need for destruction that hits me so hard my lungs decompress. I press my hand to the wet tile wall, trying to stop the thunder clashing in my head.

“It’s not okay,” I manage and her brows pinch.

“It’s not that bad,” she says. “He’s done worse.”

“That’sworse, Cora,“ I hiss as my blood courses with toxic venom.

I need to break something. Ruin. Destroy. I can’t imagine what I must look like right now. Viper says I’m a scary mother fucker when I’m angry and coming from him means I must look homicidal to her.

I feel like a raging maniac. Twisted up and sick with fury.

That’s when I see the stitches.

I know instantly what it means. It was Viper who followed them to the doctor’s office and me who downloaded the files onto my laptop to see why they went.

Birth control implants for both of them.

Nothing out of the ordinary.

But it’s been removed after she was returned to Rune so she could marry Zane. That rage bubbling over a minute ago isnow a hot volcano of fury, making it hard to think. To breathe. Making it difficult to see past the fact he plans to put a child in my woman.

Inourwoman.

“Can you say something?” Cora asks. “You’re freaking me out.”

I can’t say anything because nothing logical comes to mind. She’s right about what she said earlier. I’m a fucking animal. And my animal brain has too many things happening in it right now to form a coherent sentence.

I’m relieved he didn’t sexually assault her. I’m angry she obviously hurt. I’m enraged we put her in this situation to begin with. I’m furious that she was alone and scared, and I hate myself for not being there to protect her.

He hit her. He bit her.

I want to put her in my chest. Stop this agony that’s ripping through me, and that’s so selfish; I hate myself even more because all it would do is ease my guilt. But the need to hide her away and protect her is overwhelming because I know in just two hours, I have to hand her over to Harlow.

Then there are the two other thoughts. The two most primitive thoughts crashing through my head are so vile, I don’t want to stain her with them.

The first part of my brain is telling me to pick her up, take her back to my bed and fuck her senseless. Fuck her again. Then again. Keep her tied up, in chains if need be, and fuck her over and over, fill her up with so much of my cum, she’ll not be able to walk without leaking it down her thighs. Until there’s no doubt in anyone’s mind she’s carryingmychild. Not that fucking demon’s but mine. I didn’t even know this was a kink of mine until right this second.

No, not a kink, an absoluteneed.

“Breaker?”

Deep breath. My lungs burn. “Yes, Little Red?”

She bites her lip, drawing my eyes. “Your face is doing that thing again, and I don’t know what it means.”

It means everyone who’s ever seen me, the real me, was right. I’m a fucking monster.

Her eyes drop to my cock. My very hard, very needy cock that wants very primal things.

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