Page 56 of Lords of Ruin: Savage

I stiffen. “Where the hell is Ricardo?”

The second the words leave my mouth, the air shifts.

Willow tenses beside me. Cast doesn’t blink.Willow won’t meet my eyes. There’s something in the way her fingers tighten around my wrist, in the way her throat bobs when she swallows, that sets me on edge.

A slow, creeping suspicion slithers up my spine.

I wet my lips. “Cast,” I say, my voice dangerously low. “Where. Is. Ricardo?”

Cast’s smirk is slight, almost approving, as he nods toward Willow. “Why don’t you askher?”

I turn my head sharply, my eyes locking onto hers. “Willow?”

She swallows hard, her fingers twitching. “He’s dead.”

Everything stops.

A strange, almost eerie calm settles over me, drowning out the steady beep of the machines, Cast’s dark stare, the knowing sneer tugging at Damien’s mouth.

I stare at her, my mind catching on the words, flipping them over and over again, as if testing their weight.

Then, slowly, I lean forward. “Youkilled him.”

Willow presses her lips together, her jaw tight. “He—he was going to kill me, Vincent.” Her voice is soft, hesitant. “I didn’t have a choice.”

And just like that?—

A grin spreads across my face.

“My little devil,” I murmur, my voice full of praise. I lift my hand—ignoring the soreness in my muscles—and cup her chin, tilting her face up. “Bringinghellto the men who deserve it.”

Willow’s eyes widen, her lips parting slightly. A deep blush creeps up her neck, blooming across her cheeks.

She’s expecting—what? Guilt? Horror?

No. Not from me.

My chest rumbles with a chuckle, my thumb brushing over her bottom lip. “And here I was worried I’d have to protect you forever.”

Willow blinks rapidly, her breath stuttering. “Vincent?—”

I press my finger against her lips, shushing her. “We’ll talk about it later,princess.” Then I glance at Cast, my grin turning sharper. “Right now, we’ve got bigger problems.”

Cast inclines his head slightly, watching me carefully. “That we do.”

I shift against the pillows, my body aching with the effort, but I don’t care. A fire burns in my gut, chasing away the sluggishness of sleep and drugs.

Some girl thinks she can come forus?

I shake my head, amusement curling at the edges of my lips. “It’s time to hunt a hunter.”

21

CAST

Tomas struggles in the chair,his wrists bound tight. I glance toward the door at the sound of quiet footsteps. The scent of vanilla and hesitant breath tells me it’s Willow.

She’s calm, unwavering, but there’s a flicker of a darker visage in her eyes. Tomas hasn’t noticed her yet, too focused on avoiding my gaze.

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