Dante POVAs I push open another door, her body stiffens, eyes widening in shock. The room we step into is like an upscale club, but far more decadent. Podium cages line the space, each one holding a man or woman, completely nude, surrounded by an array of sex toys. Some women and men stand on small platforms, others are sprawled luxuriously on velvet couches, their bodies on display. Some are dancing, their movements slow and hypnotic, while others are interacting with the patrons, the air thick with lust and abandon. “This is the main stage area,” I whisper, watching Luna’s eyes dart between the cages and the figures moving within them. There’s a mixture of discomfort and something else playing across her face as she takes in the scene. “People come here to watch, to choose, or sometimes just to enjoy the atmosphere. It’s… well, it’s whatever they want it to be.” She doesn’t respond, doesn’t say a word—just stares, lips slightly parted, her gaze fixed on the figures moving inside
Dante’s POV I didn’t sleep. I couldn’t. My mind kept circling back to that room, replaying every second, trying to make sense of it. What was it that triggered her? Every aspect of that room, every piece of it—she’s seen before, in one way or another. And yet, something about it set her off. She didn’t seem phased by the other scenes, so why that room? The thought has gnawed at me all morning. It’s past midday now, the time I’d normally be catching some sleep before the night. But not today. My mind won’t let me rest. I want to keep up the fight we’ve been having, this back-and-forth where I push, and she fights me off but ends up loving it. But right now, pushing her like that? It feels like it would do more harm than good. I need a new plan. Maybe I can use this—whatever last night was—to my advantage. Take her somewhere from her past, see if she’ll open up, talk about it. But fuck, I’m not used to handling something like this. I’ve always been in control, always known the rules
Dante POVSitting her down on the bike, I grab a helmet and pull it over her head, adjusting the straps. She wiggles in protest, already annoyed. “Stop,” I mutter, holding her still. “I don’t want to wear one,” she snaps, trying to shove it off. “They’re stupid and make me look like I have a big head!” I chuckle, unable to resist teasing her. “No one could ever accuse you of having a big head, love. Now hold still.” I try to fasten the helmet, but she squirms again, refusing to cooperate. With a sigh, I glare down at her. “It’s for protection, Luna. You wear it, or we walk. But trust me, you’ll hate walking a lot more.” She huffs, crossing her arms in annoyance like a child being told to clean their room. I grab the strap and begin adjusting it under her chin when I see her hand twitch, likely about to rip it off, I sigh. My visor slams shut, before she can make a move I grasp the front of her helmet, dragging her close. “Don’t,” I growl, lifting my visor as I grab her neck with
Luna’s POV TW for those who need it: Primal hunting, CNC, and a whole lot of other stuff... I knew he would agree. Dante’s too stubborn, too full of confidence to say no. He told himself nothing I could do in a minute would work. He’s wrong. The moment his eyes closed, I backed into the trees when I was sure he wouldn't hear. I bolted. “Game on, little deer!” Dante’s voice cuts through the woods, and I push myself harder, feet pounding against the forest floor, stumbling over twigs and roots. Every noise I make is betraying me, each snap of a branch underfoot giving away my position. He’s hunting me. But slowing down isn’t an option. It would only give him the advantage, allow him to close the distance. I dive behind a thick tree, pausing just long enough to listen for his footsteps. He’s not too close, but not far enough for me to relax either. Keep moving. Don’t stop. I start running again, lungs burning, legs aching, but I push through it. “The faster you run, the harder
Luna POVThe trees seem to close in around me, suffocating, and my chest tightens as I realize there’s no clear path ahead. “You’re mine, Luna,” his voice growls from behind me, sending shivers down my spine. “You always were.” No. My heart slams against my ribs, my body begging for a break, for rest, but I can’t stop. The woods are a blur now, and my mind is spinning with fear, confusion, and something darker, something primal. Something that makes me want him to catch me, even though every instinct is screaming for me to keep running. But I won’t make it much longer. I know that. Suddenly, I’m thrown to the ground, my body hitting the forest floor. A rush of adrenaline, fear, and excitement surges through me as I flip onto my back. My breath catches when I see him—the mask, the one he always wears, he's now wearing for this. His hand moves swiftly, tearing my top open, exposing my chest to the cool night air. I barely have time to react before the knife appears, slicing through
Dante’s POV: I lean back for a moment, feeling her weight against my chest, her body limp in my arms. I loosen the rope slowly, careful not to wake her. As the last loop comes free, her body collapses, and I catch her before she hits the ground. This wasn’t the fucking plan. She’s passed out in the middle of nowhere, and she picked the worst goddamn place to pull this off. I lower her onto the dirt, gently laying her down. My mind is racing, but I try to focus. I search the ground for my clothes, pulling on my trousers and shoes first. My shirt and jacket are tossed somewhere, along with hers, so I grab them both. Glancing back at her, I shake my head. She’s shit at this game—running in circles, letting my voice pull her in like she always does. Walking back over, I peer down at her. She’s a mess—we’re a fucking mess. I’m not even sure how I’m going to get her back without drawing attention, but I’ll figure it out. I always do. I crouch down and wrap my shirt around her waist, t
Dante POVOnce inside, I sit on the bed and begin untying her. I lay her on the bed and begin to pull off my shirt that I’d wrapped around her waist, then the jacket, tossing them aside. She doesn’t stir, her breathing soft and even, still deep in sleep. But her appearance is a mess—beyond a mess. Luna lies sprawled out on the bed, her wild hair tangled and full of leaves, twigs sticking out in every direction like she just crawled through the underbrush. Dirt and mud streak across her body, smeared over her arms and legs. Scratches crisscross her skin, some shallow, some deeper, a few of them oozing faint lines of blood. Her knees and elbows are scraped raw, covered in a mix of mud and grime from the forest floor. There’s even a small cut on her cheek, just below her eye, and dried blood trails down from it. She looks like she’s been through a warzone, her once pale skin now smeared with the evidence of the night’s chase. Her clothes—or what’s left of them—are torn and ragged, bare
Dante POVJustin laughs through the pain, his voice a rasping croak now. “It doesn’t matter, Dante. Brian’s coming for her. For Luna. There’s nothing you can do to stop him. He’s going to take her, just like he took all the others.” Those words rip through me like a storm. I glance at Callum, and I can see the same cold determination in his eyes. We have to make sure. There can’t be anything left unsaid. We start again. This time, it’s more brutal, more savage. Callum and I take turns breaking him down, each hit, each twist of the knife, drawing more from him. We don’t stop until Justin is a broken, bloodied mess, barely clinging to life. Finally, there’s nothing left. He’s told us everything—about Brian, about the women, about Luna. And when I’m sure, when I know there’s no more lies, I step forward one last time. I grab Justin by the hair, yanking his head back. His eyes are glassy, his body limp, but there’s still a flicker of fear in his gaze. He knows this is it. “You should
Jace POV“Count for me,” I instruct, my voice firm but steady. Without waiting for a response, I bring the paddle down with more force against her upper thigh.“One,” she gasps, her body tensing before quickly relaxing into the sensation.I continue, alternating between her thighs, her ass, and the curve of her hips, watching as her skin warms under each controlled strike. I push the intensity just a little further each time, testing her limits, feeling her reactions shift between sharp gasps and breathy moans. By the time we reach ten, her body is flushed a beautiful shade of pink, her muscles loose, her breaths uneven.“Good girl,” I murmur, setting the paddle aside. My voice is low, soothing, meant to anchor her even as I prepare to take her further. “Now for something different.”I pick up the flogger, letting the soft leather strands dance over her sensitized skin. She shivers instantly, her breath catching, her body trembling under the featherlight touch. I watch as anticipation
Jace POVWhen the feather brushes against her inner thighs again, her legs tremble, parting slightly without thought. I watch as the tension in her hands loosens, her fidgeting slowing, her mind beginning to quiet. She’s sinking into it now, letting the sensation take over.Setting the feather aside, I reach for the pinwheel and an ice cube, the stark contrast between the two designed to overwhelm her senses.The moment the cool metal of the pinwheel makes contact with her hip, she shudders, her skin tightening under the delicate prickle of each tiny spike. I roll it up her side, the subtle drag leaving a trail of awareness in its wake. Her breathing shifts, turning into soft, shallow pants as I circle the pinwheel along the curve of her breast, teasing but never fully touching.At the same time, I press the ice cube to her lips. Her gasp is sharp, instinctive, her mouth parting slightly from the shock of cold. I take advantage of the moment, dragging the ice along her neck, leaving g
Jace POVBy the time we pull up outside, I’ve made my decision. I climb off my bike and walk straight to her, grabbing her wrist before she can say anything and leading her inside. But I don’t take her to my apartment. Instead, I step into the lift, pressing the button that takes us downstairs.She doesn’t question it right away, just watches me with that sharp, wary gaze, waiting for whatever comes next.When we step out, I walk her down the hall to a vacant room, pushing the door open and stepping inside before locking it behind us. The air shifts instantly, her body going still as her eyes flick around the space. It’s simple—clean, dim lighting, nothing extravagant—but the energy in the room is different, charged with something she doesn’t fully understand yet.“Have you done anything like this before?” I ask quietly, watching her closely.Her head shakes, a slow, hesitant movement, but her eyes don’t leave mine.“Okay,” I say, keeping my voice steady. “We’ll start with the basics.
Jace POVI need to put a stop to this.That’s the only reason I’m back here, standing in the middle of this fucking street, watching her make the worst decision of her life like it means nothing. The guy in the car doesn’t give a damn, his lazy smirk saying he’s already won. He’s not going anywhere. He’ll sit there all fucking night if he has to, waiting for her to crack, waiting for her to climb inside like she’s done a hundred times before.Her hand moves to open the door, and I reach out, grabbing her wrist before she can. “I’ll pay you,” I say, voice tight, my chest burning with frustration. “Don’t get in that car, please.”Something’s off. She’s different today, her energy too erratic, too wild, like she’s running on something other than adrenaline. The way her body sways, the way her pupils are blown wide—it’s not just the club, not just the high of the moment.Then she tilts her head, eyes locking onto mine, and she grins, teeth flashing in the dim light.“Will you fuck me, Jac
Serena POVChecking my bag it's empty. I don't understand, I remember it in my hand, but did I give him it?“You said you had it,” Dale continues, voice steady. “But you never gave it to me. You must have lost it.”“No,” I whisper, shaking my head again. My throat tightens, panic trying to claw its way back up. “I—”His sigh is soft, almost disappointed. “You’ve been all over the place, Sera. You were late taking your tablets, you were shaking so bad you could barely stand… maybe you thought you gave it to me, but you didn’t.”I try to argue, but the words don’t come. The way he says it, the way he looks at me like I’m something fragile, something easily broken—it makes me hesitate. The confidence I had in my memory crumbles, the cracks widening with every second of silence between us.I was late. I was shaking. I don’t even remember how I got here, not really. The ride, the searching, the desperation—it’s all a blur, a mess of fragmented pieces that don’t fit together.Maybe I did fo
Serena POV“I warned you,” he says, voice calm, too casual. “Told you not to be late again, didn’t I?” He leans back against the bar, stretching his arms out along the counter like this is nothing more than a minor inconvenience. “And yet, here we are. You fucking up, me waiting for you to figure it out, and now you get to deal with your dad like I said you would.”A cold sweat breaks out along my back. My chest tightens as the words sink in, my panic twisting into something more dangerous. I shake my head, forcing myself to swallow the lump in my throat. “Dale, please. You can’t—he’ll—” My voice cracks, but I don’t care. He knows exactly what my father would do if he thought I wasn’t taking my meds right.Dale watches me struggle, his lips twitching at the corners like he’s savoring it. He leans in slightly, voice dropping just enough to make sure I hear every damn word. “I can. And I will. You’re making my life harder, Sera. I told you the rules. I told you what happens if you don’t
Serena POVMy body trembles, the shakes making it harder to hold onto the handlebars as I ride. My vision blurs in and out, my skin crawling with that unbearable itch that only gets worse the longer I go without my pills. My thoughts slip in and out of focus, fragmented and disjointed, like pieces of a puzzle that won’t fit together. I don’t remember half the ride by the time I stop outside the house, my heart pounding against my ribs like it’s trying to break free.I barely get off my bike before I’m moving, legs unsteady as I push through the door. My breaths come fast, uneven. The world tilts for a second, but I ignore it, shoving past the few people lingering inside and taking the stairs two at a time. My hands shake as I reach his door, and I knock hard.“Dale!” My voice comes out rough, cracking on his name. No answer. I knock again, harder. “Please, Dale!”The door stays silent.“He left,” Joanne’s voice cuts through my panic, and I spin to face her, my stomach twisting.“What?
Jace POV“So she’s been close to death,” he muses, his voice softer now, almost admiring. “She’s witnessed it. Felt the fear of it. And at some point, she realized how alive it made her feel in that moment.”I shake my head. “No. Because she hasn’t. That’s the thing. There’s nothing. Not even a broken fucking bone,” I mutter. The frustration burns under my skin, because none of it makes sense.Rich leans forward, resting his elbows on the desk, his expression shifting—darker, something lurking behind his eyes that makes my spine go rigid.“You can face death and show no signs of it, Jace,” he murmurs, his voice too smooth, too knowing. “Death doesn’t have to be messy and loud. It can be calm while being completely fucking insane. It can be clean, but still leave blood in your mind that never washes off.”Something in my stomach knots as I watch him, the way his gaze sharpens, his fingers drumming idly against the desk like he’s enjoying the moment.“It can be a moment of pure terror,”
Jace POVWhen I wake up, I already know she's gone. The room feels different. The air feels empty.I walk through the apartment, glancing around, half-hoping I’ll find her still curled up somewhere, but she’s gone. A part of me expected it. Another part of me hoped she’d stay.Rubbing a hand down my face, I head for the kitchen, needing coffee to push away the exhaustion clinging to me. I barely slept, too wired, too focused on every word she said last night. I grab a cup, take a sip, and turn—then stop cold.My wallet is open. That sinking feeling hits hard, a slow burn in my gut as I move toward it. The cash is gone.She fucking didn’t. I grab it, flipping through, but it’s empty. Every single bill. She took it all.The anger comes fast, pulsing hot under my skin. I wasn’t expecting a damn thank you, but I also didn’t think she’d rob me the second my guard was down. My jaw clenches as I spot the note folded beside the wallet.I snatch it up, eyes scanning the messy scrawl.Sorry.So