Page 36 of His Hold

“It’s what you wanted.”

“What I wanted?” He laughs. “If all I wanted was your body, I would’ve taken it the night I was at your house. You threw yourself into a wolf’s den without so much as a plan, sweetheart. Lucky for you, I find stupidity endearing.”

I don’t have a comeback for that. Because he’s right. I came here armed with nothing but desperation and grief. And now, I’m stuck with a man who could crush me without even trying.

“Irina.” I force the word out, cutting through the mess of thoughts clouding my head. “That’s all I care about. So keep your twisted little games to yourself.”

“You say that, but you’re still here.”

“Not by choice.”

“Keep lying, Katya. Maybe one day you’ll believe yourself.”

“You think you know me? You think you can just assume things about me because we fucked?”

“No.” He steps closer, eyes gleaming. “But you want me to. And you hate that you want it.”

I feel helpless. I hate how his words slip under my skin, burning like acid. I shove past him, heading for the corner of the cabin where the meagre supplies are stacked.

“Why are you following me?” I snarl when I feel him approach.

“Making sure you don’t try anything stupid.”

“What could I possibly do?”

“Run. Fight. Stab me in the throat while I’m sleeping.”

“Tempting.”

He chuckles. “You’ve got bite. I like that.”

“I don’t care what you like.”

“Sure you do.”

I grab a can of beans and hurl it at him. He catches it effortlessly, fingers curling around the metal like it’s nothing.

“Was that supposed to hurt me?”

“Only if you’re allergic to beans. It was supposed to shut you up.”

“Good luck with that.”

He tosses the can onto the table, his eyes never leaving me. It’s like he’s waiting for me to snap again, to lose control.

“You keep pushing me.”

“I like watching you get riled up.”

“Why?”

“Because when you do, you’re real. Not the angry little girl playing detective. Just you. And I like the real you better.”

I swallow, my throat dry. His words twist something inside me, something I don’t want to acknowledge.

“That’s not your business to like what personality I take on.”

“I make it my business.”

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