Page 79 of Taming Seraphine

She draws back, her gaze meeting mine, and whines, “Are you going to make me leave?”

“No.” I brush a dark strand off her face. “You’ll stay here with me until we find your brother.”

Her face pinches. “What if he’s still sick?”

“Then we’ll take care of him until he can take care of you both. Even after that, I’ll still be there for you.”

She blinks, and a tear slides down her cheek. “How can we ever repay you?”

I lean down and press a kiss on her forehead. “Work with me to control your impulses to kill, and we’ll call it even.”

“What if I can’t?” she asks, her eyes glimmering.

“Then you’ll work out a way to do it without getting caught, restricting your kills to only those who deserve to die.”

She wraps her hand around mine and squeezes. I bring her knuckles to my lips and sigh. “I won’t give up on you, Seraphine. I promise.”

She gulps. “And you’ll stop holding back information?”

“Alright.”

My stomach twists at the half-truth. Anton trained me in the art of murder, and he put that collar around her neck and the chip under her skin. It’s exactly how he trains his dogs and he allowed Capello to do the same to a sixteen-year-old girl. It’s hard to reconcile the man I know with the man that helped create this version of her.

“Thank you,” she murmurs, her shoulders relaxing. “Can I ask for something else?”

“Anything,” I rasp.

“Don’t lock me up anymore. Sometimes, it feels like I’m still a prisoner.”

Guilt grips my chest so tightly that I feel the sting of its claws at the back of my throat. “You’re not my captive.”

“Then let me go out on the balcony or the terrace by myself,” she says, her voice breaking. “I’m cooped up in here, and it’s driving me crazy.”

My jaw tightens. “And if you hurt yourself again?”

“I won’t,” she rasps.

“Or hurt someone else?”

She shakes her head. “I’ve learned my lesson.”

Those mesmerizing blue eyes shine with innocence, sincerity, and a vulnerability that ignites my instincts to possess, protect, and provide. My mouth drifts close to her pink lips with an urge to comfort her with a kiss, even though somewhere deep in my psyche, my last shred of decency screams at me to stop.

I jerk my head to the side and force myself to look away. Seraphine draws me in with whatever allure she used to make men drop their guard. Even if I have enough resolve to not take advantage of her, she’s still a dangerous young woman capable of unpredictable acts of violence.

“Please,” she whispers. “I won’t let you down.”

The desperation in her voice pulls at my frayed heartstrings. She just wants a little freedom. I’m not Capello or his bastard sons. Who am I to keep her cooped up in this apartment?

My gaze wanders over her shoulder to the pile of steak cut into neat strips. How the hell did she manage that with just a table knife?

“Seraphine,” I say, my voice sharpening.

“What?”

“Have you been hiding weapons again?” I turn to look her full in the face.

Her eyes widen, and her lips part to form a perfect O. “No.”

---