A Ruin of Roses (Deliciously Dark Fairytales #1)(18)

“Finley, isn’t it?”

Why did that rough voice suddenly feel like a sensuous lick across my heated flesh? I hated that I loved it. Hated that I suddenly craved his kisses between my thighs. His fingers banging into my slick sex.

“Fuck the goddess sideways, I am losing my fucking mind,” I mumbled, trying to get a grip. I wiped the back of my hand across my forehead. It felt like his magic was unwinding me, one thread at a time. Why did it feel so fucking good?

“Do you want to be dominated, Finley? Your animal certainly does.”

“Wh-what?” I pushed my palm to my chest, feeling that weight within rail against my ribcage, as though it were indeed a creature trying to break free. The fire kept seeping into my bloodstream, pulsing power into my limbs. I was drunk with it. Drunk on this feeling. Desperate to let this big-ass alpha push me down into the dirt right now and drive that big cock deep into my needy cunt.

“Enough!”

His bark of command was like a splash of cold water.

I blinked and realized I’d dropped my dagger and now stood right in front of him. His chest heaved like mine, his large cock fully erect between us. I hadn’t touched him yet, but it was clear I’d been about to act on the things I’d been thinking. To demand he give me what I was craving.

The scary thing was that I had no idea when I’d moved or how I’d gotten there. Neither of those things had registered. It was like someone else had assumed control of my movements. Control of me. But at the same time, I remembered thinking those dirty words. Remembered wanting to act on them. Remembered feeling the ache in my core at the filthy, delicious thoughts.

Oh no, was it happening again?

Without thinking, I slapped him across the face. Then thought, Oh shit, what did I just do?

Before I could back-pedal or run or laugh manically, he snatched my wrist out of the air.

“I will give you that one,” he said in a voice out of a nightmare. “I am partially responsible. I didn’t control my beast as I ought to have. But you will get just the one. Try it again, and I’ll break you.”

“What disgusting type of creature are you?” I asked. “Are you the king of the incubi or something? You magically force girls to give themselves to you?”

“I am no demon, princess, I can assure you.”

The pet name was condescending, as was his expression.

“You don’t know what you have bottled up inside of you, do you?” he asked.

I squinted at him and, for the first time, didn’t have a witty comeback. The bastard had completely knocked me off my game.

He flung my hand away and then shoved me backward, lightly enough to force some space but not enough to send me sprawling.

“That beast inside of you is going to get you into trouble,” he said. “You need to learn to control it.”

“What…what are you talking about?”

He huffed out a laugh, shook his head, and then looked up at the sky. “Fucking typical.” It sounded like he was talking to himself. Or maybe he’d borrowed my invisible audience for the moment. He rolled his shoulders before squaring them. “You have stolen the everlass plant from these lands on multiple occasions. Why?”

“No, I didn’t.” Only an idiot would fess up without proof.

“Why?” he growled.

Fear wound through me, but I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of seeing it. That plant was clearly very important to him. This wasn’t just about stealing—it was about stealing from him. His grudge was personal, and I did not want to incriminate my village. My secrets would die with me.

“Most people come to this wood in the hopes of escaping this rotting kingdom,” he said. “They either hope to kill me or, lately, make a deal with the demon king. But you and some of your brethren steal the everlass plant. Your village is the only one to have shown an interest in it. Why?”

“I assume others do it because their gardens are too small and they don’t have enough room to grow the plants they need.”

He took a step forward, bristling with anger. “Do you need to make this so difficult?”

“Do I need to make my execution difficult? Yeah, kinda. It’s not something I am looking forward to.”

His stare beat into me, turning my belly to gravy. “You are trying to fight a battle that you cannot win.”

“Life is a battle we cannot win. The question becomes, do we want to go down peacefully, or fight until our last breath? I choose to fight.”

That weight in my chest—almost an actual presence—thunked within me. I felt its approval.

Could it really be my animal? Was that even possible?

The air between us crackled. “You leave me no choice.”

A shock of power slammed into me. It throbbed, not sexual this time but commanding. Consuming. The compulsion to answer him washed over me. Pulled me down and battered me around. I opened my mouth to obey. I shut it.

I was not a puppet to play with. I was not a servant to boss around. I had no master, and I wouldn’t take one now. If he wanted to kill me, fine, but I would not be compelled to give up my secrets.

I clenched my jaw to hold back the words. I dug the nails of my free hand into the heel of my palm, focusing on that bite of pain.

Anger and frustration sizzled from him. More power came, punching me. It set fire to my skin and scraped down my bones. Agony flash-boiled my blood. It hurt so badly that I thought I might black out. But still I resisted.