Hell’s own kiss burned softer than the fire in my hands as I carried her limp body from the flames. And she thought she could escape me.
The smoke wrapped around us but I didn’t gave two flying fucks. My eyes narrowed, scanning her face, her parted lips and bruised body. For him. She’d run from me, cowered like some fucking pathetic bird, all for that bastard.
A low snarl rumbled in my chest. How many times would I have to teach her? How many times would I have to break her to make her see she was mine?
I glanced down at her too furious at the sight. My little traitor. My delinquent and yet… my desire. An ache pulsed through my chest, one I didn’t ask for and didn’t fucking want. How could she make me feel both fury and this sick, twisted sense of possession? I clenched my fists, fingers digging into her arms, reminding myself she was here now because I’d dragged her back.
That she wasn’t going anywhere.
Only I knew what type of hell and anger I felt seeing her here. I expected Anya to be here, but my little bird, never. I knew she was meeting Lucius behind my back, only because I wanted to see the lengths she’d go. And my ptichka had surprised me.
If it wasn’t for the tracker I put in her phone. Files on me? As if she could find anything.
And Anya. She’d snarled and spat all the way back, like the ungrateful wretch she was, as if I hadn’t gone out of my way to fix her mess, to handle the loose ends she couldn’t manage herself. It was her own fault she’d dragged me into this. What the fuck was she even doing in Russian? She and this damned little troublemaker Lucius wanted dead. Anya could stew in her precious rage. I had my own to tend to.
And I’d make sure she’d be grounded back in Italy for her entire life.
My gaze shifted back to the unconscious face resting in my arms, and a dark, wretched part of me hissed that she’d earned her punishment, that she deserved every scar I’d leave on her soul. But even so, something twisted in my gut, something that made me want to snap her neck and shield her all at once. What fucking sorcery was this? I could raze people with my fists. And yet, with her…
I grit my teeth, my pulse hammered and my mind clouded with visions of what I’d do to the next fool who laid a finger on her. I’d already made that mistake once. I wouldn’t let any other man have that pleasure. If they so much as looked, I’d remind them just who the hell she belonged to. And now, here she was, her sweater torn and baring her skin to the cold, the scent of fear still lingering on her skin like a goddamned invitation. She was practically begging me to kill someone.
I let out a scornful laugh. “What do you think, little bird?” I murmured, knowing she couldn’t hear me. “Did you think you’d run from me? That some random knight would come and pluck you from my claws?” I traced a finger along her jaw, barely touching, feeling that familiar heat of fury flaring up again. “You’re a fool,” I hissed, wanting to put my lips on her mouth and remind myself she was here, with me. “a pretty, damned fool.”
I moved toward the cars where my men stood glancing uneasily at the fire crackling behind me. But one glare had them averting their gazes. Let them be unsettled. Let them feel the wrath of what I’d do if they failed me, as I wouldn’t fail her.
Anya rolled her eyes. This fucking fool would answer to father now. A grumble slipped past her lips. I met her glare with one of my own. “Save your words for father, one word and I’ll strangle you myself.”
Her glower was a dare, that defiant gleam as she tossed her hair back. Christ, she looked so damn much like Tina. “You’re not saying anything to Papa,” she sneered, but I caught the flash of fear there, tucked under that sharp tone. She was scared our father would keep her locked in her cage.
I would’ve laughed at her, but the thing was, I wasn’t in the mood. The woman in my arms was keeping me on edge.
“Think I give a damn what you want?” I rolled my eyes and put my little bird on the back seat before shrugging off my jacket and throwing it over her body. I turned around to find Kyle raising his brow at me. I raised mine and leaned in, just a little and stared at Anya’s green eyes. “You might fool the rest of them, sis, but I see the real you-don’t think for a second I don’t know why you’re here. And guess what?” I tried not to scare her, but I couldn’t keep the edge off my voice. “I am your punishment, your worst nightmare, and your older brother. Pray I don’t rip your pitiable little world to shreds.”
She wanted to throw curses? She had no idea who she was up against. The day she thought she could stand on my level, I’d be right there, waiting to knock her back down.
“Papa wouldn’t-”
“Papa,” I bit out a low chcukle, “isn’t here to save you, Anya. And if he was, he’d thank me for cleaning up his precious mess of a daughter. Get back to Italy before papa sends his personal SWAT Team to look for you,”
She opened her mouth to retort, but I didn’t give her the chance. I grabbed her by the arm and dragged her towards the other SUV as she struggled. My grip tightened, fingers dug into her arms until I saw her wince, that sharp intake of breath that told me I’d struck a nerve and threw her at Kyle.
“Take her to Italy.” My gaze flickered to Kyle. “In one piece.”
She tried to say something, but it faltered, her lips trembled as she looked up at me with something closer to desperation. I knew she wanted to say something. She knew I’d follow through my threats very well. Knew I wouldn’t hesitate to make her crumble just for her sake.
“And you? You’ll stay here? After burning President’s nephew to ashes-”
“That’s none of your business-”
“And that girl?” My jaw ticked. “Who is she?”
“Again, that’s none of your fucking business.”
I glared at her, daring her to say something before making my way to the unconscious body lying in the back of the car. My little bird. My troublesome, foolish ptichka who thought she could play with fire and not get burned.
“I’ll tell Papa! I’ll tell him you’re keeping a woman hostage!” I rolled my eyes. As if he could do anything about that. “Let me go, you dog!”
I get inside the car and motioned for the guard to drive before reaching her, my fingers brushing along her bruised cheek, feeling that familiar surge of dark desire and fury that had me clenching my jaw. She’d tried to escape me. Tried to get herself killed just to avoid me. I tightened my hold on her, knowing damn well that if I had to lock her away, I would.
No one else gets to save her. No one else touches her. Run from me again, little bird, and I’d drag you back myself every single time. You’re mine-and I myself didn’t knew what lengths I would go.
I knew what I’d do next. She’d find herself somewhere she couldn’t escape, somewhere her wings would be clipped. Her new cage would be far less forgiving than the forest she’d just run through. And as for me? I’d be there.
What was it about you, little bird?
I shook my head gritting my teeth not understanding why I pressed that gun to my own temple for her. All I knew was, I couldn’t watch her die. I could end her, could do it with one snap, but the thought of her lying cold and gone, ashes scattering into the damned wind… it felt like a madness I couldn’t bear.
She was unconscious, but the fucking heat of her felt like fire against my skin. The memory of her lips on mine… that kiss, the one she’d given me freely, was burned into my mind like a brand. My damned heart had skipped a beat.
For a moment-just one pathetic, sickening moment-I’d felt something that wasn’t fury, that wasn’t hatred. And it had made me want to rip my own chest open just to understand it.
I shook my head, my frustration mixed with desire so violent it tasted bitter in my mouth. She had ruined me. Fucking ruined my thinking system. And now I didn’t know what I’d do to keep her.
Her face was so close, her parted lips, the rise and fall of her chest. I fought the urge to kiss her again, to feel her warmth under mine, to let her taste the kind of twisted devotion that made me want to both worship and ruin her. I had her caged against my chest, and still, it wasn’t enough.
God, I could kill her. But I couldn’t. Because even the thought of her dead felt like a poison I couldn’t drink. I’d rather drag her through hell a thousand times than let that happen.
I clenched my fists, feeling the roughness of her bruised cheek against my knuckles, and pulled her closer, tighter, until I could feel the steady thump of her heartbeat against my own racing pulse. Mine. This damn girl who had twisted me so completely I didn’t even recognize myself anymore.
The car picked up speed and the world outside a blur, but all I could feel was her warmth in my arms, my grip on her bruised, soft skin. She didn’t know what I’d do to keep her close. She didn’t know that I’d burn my own mind to ash if that’s what it took to keep her alive, right here in my hold, forever.
And the thing was she didn’t need to know.
And pathetically I knew that I was losing myself to this madness- this insanity I couldn’t name, this need that clawed and snarled within me, screaming that she was mine and no one else’s. I was beyond reason, beyond saving. Because the twisted, broken truth was that this girl-my little bird, my ptichka-was the one cage I would never want to escape. And I’d make damn sure she never would, either.