Page 20 of Savage Sin

I study her face for a moment and she does nothing but rock stare back at me.

Fury sends her chest into a flurry of harsh breaths. Her breasts bounce against my cotton shirt. In all her commotion, the blankets have fallen to settle around her waist.

“What do you want with me?”

Dark nipples press against the white material of my shirt and I would have to be blind not to appreciate the view. She is a beauty to behold.

Having her tied to my bed goes against every oath I took as a Savage. But I swore a promise to someone else long before I put on the Savage cut. That is where my loyalty must lie. Ares will have to understand. If what I have to do doesn’t kill me first.

“Very good question. First, I want your name.” I grip her chin and force her head back. The key to dominating anyone is to make them feel weak. This lioness will take some taming before I can get her to agree to my plan.

“Name,” I repeat.

I am good with faces, but I want confirmation that this girl is who I think she is.

My grin turns predatory. “Or I can give you back to the people I took you from. Your choice. I think they had something in mind with this dress, shirt, or whatever it was you had on.” I pull the dingy thing out of the trash and hold it up. I have no doubt they forced her into this thing when whoever shoved her into that hole.

“Humiliation technique is all that was.”

“Ah, you can speak. Name?” I rasp and toss the trash where it belongs.

She looks like she rather see me dead on the floor, but if my options are limited, hers are fewer still.

I take her by the throat and lower my face to hers. She presses her lips into a tight line as if that hides her fear from me. But trepidation of the unknown glitters beneath pretty black lashes. I hate seeing it there and my brain wants to trip back to the last time I put this amount of unease into a woman’s eyes.

The strong pounding of her heart thumbs under my thumb. Small, circular motions push away the deep lines pinching her brows.

“Name.”

Perfectly shaped lips fall open with my answer. It feels like a small victory, but it also means she just signed our death certificates. “Persephone. Persephone Castel.”

“Son of a bitch,” I mutter, and cup my face with both my hands.

I didn’t realize how much I wanted to be wrong until right now. Four days of praying she didn’t die included the hope of having her identity wrong all this time.

Her eyes dart around the room like just mentioning the drug kingpin’s last name will bring death to her bedside.

“Nice to meet you, Persephone. You’re the key I’ve been looking for.” I sit on the edge of the bed. Hazel meets ice blue. “And like it or not, you’re going to help me kill your father.”

“No.”

She doesn’t ask why, I notice. Just blurts out her answer, unmoving or caring what her father could have done to earn my wrath.

Anger charges through my system, but I rope it back in. That was fast. I smile. “I see.” I pull the edges of the blanket down a little more and notice the dark tips of her nipples push against the shirt. A reaction to fear, not arousal.

I slide the edge of my shirt up and check the wound. Trembles flutter over her abdomen when I slightly touch the area around the puckered edges.

“What did you do to me?”

“We both know I didn’t do this. But I cleaned you up and make sure you didn’t die of a fever. I think that earns me something in return.”

“What do you want?”

“I told you. I want to know the location of your father because I’m going to kill him.”

She hisses when I lower my weight on the bed beside her.

“No.”

---