Page 48 of The Beautiful Dead

“Remi.” He held out the blood-slicked knife to me.

An offering.

A baptism.

My hand curled around the handle, fingers tightening, the weight of the blade grounding me in the moment. Crimson shimmered like rubies beneath the low light, pooling at the tip, sliding in slow, viscous ribbons onto the concrete floor.

Domino stood beside me, still as death, a silent sentinel in the periphery of my vision. He didn’t speak—he didn’t have to. The approval in his gaze, the slight incline of his head, the almost imperceptible parting of his lips as he watched—thatwas enough.

I wrenched the blade back, my chest rising and falling in uneven breaths, and drove it into Calloway’s gut. His flesh gave way, parting beneath the steel with a sickening wetness. Hisbody jerked, his breath shattering into a scream, but there was no escape, no reprieve.

I pulled the knife free. A warm gush followed. I quickly sank it back in. Again and again.

The resistance of muscle and sinew, the way his body spasmed beneath each thrust—it was intoxicating. The wet slide of blood over my fingers, the way it painted my skin in chaotic strokes of red, felt like an artist’s blessing.

Calloway’s screams dwindled, breaking into pitiful whimpers. His head lolled forward, his breaths coming in ragged, desperate bursts. But it wasn’t enough.

I wantedmore.I gripped his jaw, forcing his face upward, making himlook at me.His eyes, glassy and unfocused, flickered between terror and resignation. The light in them flickered, on the verge of extinguishing completely.

A slow smile curled at the edges of my lips.

I dragged the blade up his chest, carving through skin, pressing just deep enough for the wound to weep, for his nerves to flare one last time before—silence.

The last sound left him in a shaky exhale. His head rolled to the side, his body going slack. The only movement now was the slow drip of blood pooling beneath him, soaking into the floor, into my shoes, into my very soul.

Power surged through me, crackling through every nerve ending, flooding my veins with something more potent than adrenaline, more consuming than lust.

I was flying. Breathless. Weightless. I staggered back, my body thrumming, my mind blissed out in the rush—thehigh.

Domino caught me. Strong hands, firm and steady, anchored me even as I soared. I turned, chest heaving, and met his gaze. He was watching me like he hadknown.Like he hadseenthis part of me long before I’d accepted it existed.

He smiled. Not a smirk. Not a sneer.

Asmile.

Pride.

Approval.

I swallowed hard, my fingers still trembling around the knife, and let my head drop against his shoulder. His hand came up, his knuckles brushing my cheek, smearing blood across my skin in a lover’s caress.

“You feel it now, don’t you?” he murmured, voice low, reverent.

I exhaled, slow and shaky. And I nodded.

The knife slipped from my fingers, clattering to the blood-slick floor. My chest heaved, lungs burning, every nerve in my body alive with something wild and untamed. Power thrummed in my veins, hotter than anything I’d ever felt. I had never been this high. Never been this weightless, this untethered from anything but the raw, aching need coursing through me.

And then there was him. My anchor. My devil in human form.

Domino stood before me, chest rising and falling in slow, measured breaths, his green eyes nearly black with hunger. His gaze devoured me, flickering from the blood smeared across my arms to the crimson dripping from my fingers.

“Look at you,” he murmured, his voice thick with something feral. “Dripping in blood and fucking beautiful.”

A shudder wracked through me, not from fear but from the way his voice wrapped around me like chains, pulling me deeper into him. He reached for me, dragging his fingers through the blood streaking my cheek. His pupils blew wide as he brought them to his lips, tongue flicking out, tasting the violence still humming between us.

My breath hitched. My cock throbbed. I was shaking from undiluted need.

“Domino,” I rasped, not knowing if it was a question or a plea.

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