Think.
I grabbed my hair again, tugging it, forcing my brain to unriddle this problem.
First, I needed to make sure she was alone. Where one human was, more were sure to follow. Until I knew why she’d come after me and who would come after her, she was worth more to me alive than dead.
I sighed, dropping my arms with a scowl.
The sun had decided to hide above the branches cocooning my valley, and shadows crossed over her face. Her nose was small. Her cheeks round. Her eyebrows the same color as her hair.
She kind of looks like—
Don’t.
I gritted my teeth, shoving the memories away. They weren’t welcome while daylight still existed. Besides, I had work to do. It no longer involved the chores I’d set for myself but ensuring this girl remained shackled and unable to run.
For the first time, I let myself study the room where she’d sought solace. A gold and teal monstrosity with lace on the coverlets and a wardrobe full of expensive gowns. I’d braved each of these rooms to ensure they remained clean, but at no point would I ever sleep in them.
No fucking way.
Chills darted down my back.
I’d been in here too long.
So you’ll leave her on the carpet then?
I sniffed, glaring at her again.
Why the hell did she have to find me? Why did she have to interrupt my life after I’d worked so hard to make it mine?
I couldn’t leave her here. The windows didn’t lock, and the ivy outside meant it would be a simple task for her to shimmy down and vanish into the valley.
Had she come through the cave? That was the only entrance I knew of. Were others waiting for her to return?
My mind raced with questions. Sweat broke out over my skin as fresh anger coursed through my body.
Bending over her, I danced on the edge of just killing her. Of getting it over with so I could pretend this never happened. But as I stared at her blank face, I grew traitorously hard.
For the first time in eleven years, there was a female in this house.
A female who was at my command. A woman I could do anything I liked to.
I could use her.
Hadn’t my needs demanded this very thing? I refused to touch myself, and the desire in my blood had become excruciating. Nature always provided an outlet. Male birds found female birds. Horny coyotes howled until they found a mate to bite and mount.
Maybe that was all this was. Nature giving me what I needed because I wouldn’t take it for myself.
Or maybe she’s a spy. She’s one of them. She’s been sent to destroy you.
My hands balled.
No way.
No way would I let her take from me again. Not now. Not after every-fucking-thing I’d done.
I wouldn’t kill her. Not yet. Not until I had answers on why and how she’d found me. But if I ended up keeping her, she’d almost certainly beg for death. Even now, my belly clenched for something I hadn’t had access to in a very long time. If I kept her, I wouldn’t have the self-control not to take everything I could from her body.
And that knowledge made me rage. Made me hard. Made me hate.
With a growl of scorching loathing, I ducked and slid my arms under her shoulders and knees. Hoisting her from the floor, she didn’t make a sound. Didn’t wake up. Didn’t acknowledge me in any way.
A knife fell from her jacket pocket, striking the bones of my foot.
Fuck.
A compass tumbled after it, rolling under the bed.
I flinched and backed up with her balanced in my arms. My speed jostled her. I froze, searching her face to see if her eyes would open.
She didn’t wake.
Perhaps she wouldn’t. Maybe I’d done irreparable damage, and I wouldn’t get my answers, after all.
Fear filled me as I stalked from the bedroom with the stranger in my arms, leaving her knife that had already hurt me on the carpet.
It wasn’t fear for what I’d done to her but fear of what would happen to me.
What if others came?
I had weapons and was skilled at defending my home, but if they came in a mob? If they arrived for war, my carefully crafted existence would be over.
I glowered at her as I descended the staircase, her weight hardly noticeable in my arms.
How dare you.
How fucking dare you ruin my life.
I hated her.
I downright despised her.
My cock twitched as I reached the foyer, the heavy length hitting my thighs as I headed toward the back of the house and the hidden door beneath the staff staircase. My balls throbbed as a whiff of her scent invaded my nose. She smelled like leaves and earth. A musty combination that laced the air in the valley, thanks to living in a jungle of ivy and tree branches.
My skin burned where she rested against my chest.
My body tightened, eager to take everything from her.
I wanted her.
I didn’t like her. I didn’t know her. I still planned on killing her, but fuck, the longer I held her, the worse those urges became. The hotter and fiercer my need grew.
I trembled and gritted my teeth, cringing at her closeness.
Get away from her.
Rushing to open the cellar door, I almost dropped her as I pulled it wide. She moaned a little as I tightened my hold.
Christ, who would’ve thought a quiet moan would almost buckle my knees?
My mouth watered. My mind turned black. My cock thickened to excruciating levels.
Tightening my hold again, wishing I could squeeze the life out of her and the disgusting lust out of me, I climbed down another set of stairs. Unlike above ground, these steps were entirely entombed in the dark.
My blood continued to hum with desire as I climbed down, lower and lower. Sixteen steps to the bottom. Fourteen steps to the cell. Ten steps in either direction marked the size of the square dungeon.
A dungeon that lurked beneath a house full of finery, slowly festering with filth and pain.
The air turned stale, the temperature shifting from muggy warmth to dank coldness. My chest burned where I touched her, but my back welcomed the chilly dampness. It helped soothe the chaos inside me. The bloodlust and the violence.
I felt as if I had a fever. I was sick, and I was shaking. I wish she’d never fucking come here.
Striding deeper into the chilly dungeon, I didn’t care about the dark. This place was more familiar to me than any place in the valley.
I didn’t pause to turn on the lights. I’d memorized every divot and imperfection. I rushed to drop her so I could run.
Reaching the wall, I bent and lowered her to the ground. Barely visible, she slumped to the side as I let her go, her shoulder bashing against the floor as she slid into a fetal position. Her head cracked on the concrete.
The darkness was almost absolute. Small slivers of light crept in from the stone where the mortar had crumbled to dust, thanks to ivy roots wriggling their way through the foundation.
But I saw enough to study her. To drink in the youngness of her. The innocence of her sleep. The collar of bruises I’d caused around her white, breakable neck.
I waited.
Eyes didn’t open.
Lips didn’t move.
Hair slipped over her face, obscuring what I’d done.
Straightening up, I fought with myself again.
Just do it.
Get it over with.
The urge was almost unbearable—almost as unbearable as the uncommon feeling of lust.
I wanted both. To touch and to kill. To take and to ruin.
But I fought for patience.