Page 119 of Silver Elite

I don’t recognize her voice. I’m grateful for that. I still don’t like how hot my blood feels. I shouldn’t care who he’s with.

I creep closer, angling my body to get a better vantage point.

She’s sitting astride him. They’re both still clothed, but his long-sleeved shirt is unbuttoned, revealing tantalizing glimpses of his chest. He has one hand thrust in her long black hair. Strands of it fall into his face when she bends to kiss him. His other hand cups her ass as she starts to grind on him.

He releases a low, gravelly groan from the back of his throat, and I feel it everywhere.

I take a breath. I wait.

“Please,” she begs. “I need you.”

He rolls her over, pinning her beneath his strong body. Her arms loop around his neck.

I exhale. I wait.

When he rises on his knees and starts undoing his pants, I act.

Cross senses it at the very last second, growling in anger, but it’s too late. The blade digs into his throat as I hold the knife against it.

His companion screeches and scrambles up the bed to the headboard. She presses her palms to her chest as if she’s trying to cover herself, even though she’s fully dressed.

I recognize her now. The shiny hair. She was at the pit a few weeks ago. Clinging to him. Batting her eyelashes. Doing everything in her power to capture his attention.

Guess she succeeded.

“What the hellfuck!” she cries out.

Cross remains on his knees while I crouch behind him, keeping the knife directly over his jugular.

Unfazed, he slowly twists his head. The blade digs into the tendons of his throat, and a line of red blossoms on his skin. His lips curl mockingly.

“Are you here to join or to watch?”

“You know why I’m here.”

He turns back to the bed, and I lift the knife a hair so it doesn’t cut him again.

“You need to leave,” he tells his companion.

Her fearful gaze darts toward me.

“Relax, I’m not going to stab him,” I say.

In a show of good faith, I lower the knife from his throat. I wipe the faint trickles of blood off the blade using my pant leg and tuck it into the sheath.

Shiny Hair glances between us, her eyes darkening with mistrust each time they rest on me. “You seriously want me to go?” she asks Cross.

“Yes.”

I swallow my smile. I don’t know why that satisfies me so much, the fact that he couldn’t care less about keeping her around.

His lack of interest clearly grates on her. She slides off the bed, her short skirt flouncing around her firm thighs. She stops to snatch a pair of sandals off the floor and stomps away on bare feet.

“She really didn’t have to leave,” I say sweetly. “We could have talked while she was here.”

“No point in letting her stay if you don’t want to join us.”

“I’d rather die.”

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