Page 102 of The Oath We Give

I nod, lifting the glass rim to my lips and taking a sip of my drink before tossing the bullet that pierced Charlie Monroe right between his eyes onto my desk.

“Souvenir,” I say above the rattling of metal against wood, watching the silver bullet roll across the desk before coming to a stop.

That made more noise than his body did when it fell from the Peak, crashing into the raging sea and rocks below.

Her eyes widen with shock, like she’s surprised by what I did.

“Oh my God.”

I feign confusion, furrowing my brows together. “Did you forget who you married, Hex? Did you forget what I am, or did you ignore all the rumors and hope I was different?”

I’d said it once before that people constantly battle two versions of themselves.

The person that wants to exist when no one is watching cares for Coraline. Wants to show her how to help herself heal. Wants to be the shoulder she falls on. That person can give her peace.

The individual I give the world? Doesn’t care about how she feels right now. I’m a ruthless man who won’t hesitate to send another person screaming into hell if they threaten those close to me. I’ve seen too much corruption and lost too many people to give a shit about how damned my soul is. This person will only bring her war.

“God fucking dammit, Silas,” she hisses, running frustrated hands through her hair. “Why? Why couldn’t you have just left it fucking alone?”

I lean forward in the chair, sitting my glass on the desk, eyes darkening as my jaw goes taut.

“Watch your fucking mouth, Coraline,” I warn, a threat at the back of my throat. “What little patience I have left is running thin. Don’t argue with me tonight.”

She moves through the dark with her fists balled at her sides. A tiny, little ball of anger. I enjoy watching her try to intimidate me. Her palms slam on the desk across from me, waves of hair falling in front of her shoulders, those two white streaks catching the moonlight.

“It’s not your job to protect me. I asked you to look out for Lilac. That was our agreement.” She shoves her pointer finger into the wood. “I didn’t agree to you playing into the asshole alpha stereotype.”

“How about you do us both a favor, Coraline.” I grind my molars. “Get the fuck out.”

She jerks like I smacked her. It dawns on me this is the first time I’ve spoken to her like this. The first time I’ve needed to.

I’m not doing it to be mean. I’m doing it because if she doesn’t leave, what I make her do next will send her to bed sated and have her waking up with a stomach full of regret.

I don’t want her to hate herself for letting herself have me, even if it’s just one night.

Her pink tongue darts across her bottom lip, head tilting as she plays a game she’s gonna lose. “And if I don’t? What are you going to do, Hawthorne?”

A smirk unfolds on my lips, my tongue rolling across my front teeth.

“I’ll fuck you until you break.” My voice is husky from lust. “I don’t have the patience to be nice to your body. I will fuck my pent-up aggression into your tight cunt until it leaks down your thighs. So, get the fuck out, or slide your ass on my desk and spread your legs.”

She’s stubborn, has to learn lessons the hard way instead of listening, and I’m far too gone in my head to give a single fuck about how she feels in the morning anymore.

Not when all I’m focused on is bending her ass over this desk and screwing her through my floor.

Coraline is entirely too transparent; I can see her debating the options. She wants to stay, wants to give herself to me, but she’s afraid. So afraid that I expect her to walk out.

Leave me to fuck my fist until I spill with her cursed name on my lips.

But instead, she stands and begins to circle the edge of my desk. Her loose T-shirt slips down her shoulder, allowing the moonlight to reveal a white scar that goes across her collarbone.

“What are you doing?” I ask.

Coraline slides between me and the desk, the smell of lavender on her wet hair, and lifts her ass onto the top, legs dangling just in front of my knees.

“I still owe you one more favor,” she says softly. “This makes us even.”

I smirk, running a hand across my jaw. I’ve never been the kind of man who needs repayment, but if that’s the excuse she wants to give me so I can touch her, fine.

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