Page 28 of Beyond the Cottage

His eyes quirked. “I prefer that, actually.”

“I’m ready.”

His hand came at her face, and Gretta winced. He gripped her chin and turned it to the side, frowning at her cheek. “We’ll need to take care of this after. Jonas is lucky he only got a broken nose.”

Jonas—a name. It wasn’t much, but she could work with it.

And why the hell did Lab Coat care about her bruise? Did he plan to treat the wounds he inflicted himself, too?

She jerked her chin from his grip. “Quit fucking around, and get on with it.”

Mouth thinning, he lowered his hand. “Prepare yourself.”

Gretta pressed her eyes shut. Clenching her muscles, she turned the bruised side of her face away.

She sailed upward, landing on her stomach with a hardoomph. Blood rushed to her head, and her sopping ponytail dangled. Bouncing on his shoulder, she dug her elbows into him and lifted her chest off his back. “What the hell, Lab Coat!”

“You promised to stay quiet.”

“Fuck you! Put me down!”

His arm clamped over her legs. Screaming, she tried to wriggle off. She’d take the beating over being toted around like a misbehaved child, but the more she struggled, the tighter he held her, so she went still, taking stock of her position.

Her kicking feet wouldn’t reach his groin. Slapping his back was asinine. The only vulnerable place she saw was the patch of skin between his collar and hair, where she’d bitten him two days ago. Rain beaded on it, slipping down his neck.

Her mouth dove. She tore into his nape with everything she had.

“Fuck!” His grip loosened.

She slid, landing in the mud, and scrambled to her feet before taking off the way they’d come.

She had no plan, no provisions, and no chance. It didn’t matter. Whatever the consequences, self-respect demanded sherun.

Bellowing, Ansel gave chase. After watching Jonas strike her, his control was ready to snap.

He snatched her tunic before she launched into the swamp, and she shrieked and twisted, reminding him of a cornered animal more than ever. She spun on him, chest heaving, eyes wild.

The fury on her face made him take a step back. She lunged a step forward, baring her teeth and curling her fingers like claws.

“Easy,” he said, putting his hands up.

She snarled at him and lunged closer. He’d turned her into a feral creature who operated on fight or flight instinct alone.

Ansel lowered his hands. He backed away, giving her space.

How much longer could he keep doing this?

He’d rationalized it well, told himself he hadn’t really harmed her and a week wasn’t that long. The past two days may as well have been a year. Even now, his mind screamedrescue her, though he was the one she needed rescuing from.

What the hell had he let himself become? He truly was no better than the Eater.

Hecouldn’tdo this anymore.

“Pixie, I—”

Shrieking, she charged him. His heel slipped in rainwater, and he went down. She pounced on him, whaling his face with her fists, hitting its most vulnerable spots.

He grabbed her wrists. “Alright! Enough!”

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