Page 65 of Beyond Hate

“You have to. I know the person you used to be is still in there somewhere, deep down in your bones, even if it’s just muscle memory. You need to remember how to protect yourself, London, unless you want me to burn down the entire fucking world to make sure no one touches you ever again.”

The entire world.

“You’d do that?” The knife was still at my throat, his body was still pressing me against the wall… and I couldn’t think around how it felt to have him this close, how the feel of his danger running along every line of my body proved to me that I really did have shit survival instincts.

“London, I’d kill everyone to keep you close. I’d burn the entire world to the ground and build you a bed of ash and bone to fuck you on until you couldn’t move. You’re mine… and nothing else matters.”

When I leaned toward him, it forced him to jerk the knife back or slit my throat, and he actually sighed against my mouth when I came up on tiptoe to press my lips against his.

“It’s like you want to die.”

The exasperation didn’t stop him from kissing me, and the heat of his tongue delving between my lips so he could sign his name on the promises he’d just made against the roof of my mouth was enough to make me forget what we were doing.

Which was probably why he managed to press the knife back into my seeking fingers when I tried to reach for him.

“We’re going to do this until you get it right. If you don’t want dinner to burn, I suggest you start paying attention.”

Somehow the thought of me ruining all the hard work he’d put into making me a meal was more motivating than him threatening to kill everyone and everything I’d ever known. It was enough to make me nod and sigh, lifting the knife between us carefully.

“It’s not about being good, or even quick. With a knife like this, you don’t have to be fast.” He was careful when he took my hand in his, showing me how to load the blade back into the hilt and click the button so it snicked out again.

He was right—the force behind it was enough that it would drive the sharp edge into skin if I had it pressed against someone’s body.

“I don’t know if I could hurt anyone.” I whispered softly.

“You just have to hurt them long enough for me to get to you.” It was another promise, soft and deadly and so real it made me shiver.

He’d always find me, wouldn’t he?

“I can do that.” I didn’t sound confident when I said it, but I let him carefully guide my wrist to just beneath his chin. He pressed the flat of the blade there.

“People can survive having their throats slit, but I’m pretty sure if you do it, they’re going to be more concerned with that than taking you anywhere.”

Iknewwhat it looked like when someone had their throat slit, because of him.

“I don’t know if I can…”

He carefully dragged my arm down when he spoke, pressing into me while he did it and angling the knife to sit flat between us.

“You’d be surprised what you can do when you’re actually threatened, rabbit. Trust me, it’s all instinct. Like here.” He shifted even closer, and I could feel the metal between us. It made me afraid to move, but Otto didn’t seem to have the same qualms. He leaned in and brushed his lips across the little dot of blood he’d left just beneath my chin, the sting of his tongue dragging a soft sound from my chest. “We’re all capable of violence, London. Even you. Some of us are just better at it than others.”

“I don’t want to be capable… but…” I shifted the knife slightly, pressing the flat of the blade to his shoulder. “I can learn how to pretend until you come for me.”

The heat in his eyes at those words just made me want to try. “That’s good, rabbit.” He kissed beneath my jaw, his tongue playing against the cut again. “So good. Now show me where you’d put that knife if you had to.”

It sounded too sensual for what we were actually doing, and a part of me wondered if the flirting was intentional to make it easier for me.

“Here?” I kept it on the curve of his shoulder and he shook his head.

“Think lower, London. That would hurt, but you want to do the most damage you can with one stab.”

I caught the edge of the knife against his shirt, not quite bold enough to slide it into the fabric, even though the smallest part of me wanted to cut the damn sweater from his chest just so I could see his skin.

“Lower?” My voice only sounded a little strangled.

“Mmm, think.” Even as he said it, his fingers were trailing up along the curve of my spine, drawing me closer to him.

“What about here?” I couldn’t quite control the way my voice was shaking when I dragged the knife down and pressed the flat of it against his side, but I was watching him when his pupils contracted and dilated again in such rapid succession it almost seemed unreal. For a moment, his eyes were nearly all black, ringed in a soft halo of bright green.

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