Rage (Her Monsters Book One) - K.A Knight Page 0,82

head over to the home firing range and grab my ear muffs, hoping it will help.

I lay out an arrangement of different weapons and lose myself in them. From throwing stars to guns, I fire and fire, trying to ignore everything. Especially the scent of my mate, which seems to follow me wherever I go.

Yelling, I throw a star, reliving memories of another woman I cared for dying in my arms. I grab my head and hit it again and again, trying to push the memory away.

The warmth of her blood as she gasped her last breath. The blue of her eyes as she started at me with fear. The pale colour of her skin and the coolness of the floor underneath my feet. The mocking laughter as they came towards me with the hot rods and cleaver for my wings.

Screaming, I hit myself again, trying to make it go away, trying to knock it out of my mind. This, this is why I should never have a mate. They are right. Stripping our wings—it fucks us up. I am far too fucking crazy and messed up for her.

“Grif—” She coughs, her blood coating her lips.

Shouting, I throw myself at the wall, ramming my head into the concrete again and again.

“Griffin.”

Bang.

“Griffin!” Her voice blends with another, and when a soft hand comes between my head and the wall I freeze, before turning my head slowly. The blood drips down steadily, almost blinding me.

The artificial light frames her as she frowns at me. Her blonde hair is a mess, floating around her, and she’s in a borrowed shirt that smells like Nos. I turn away from her, disgusted with myself. I grit my teeth, of course she would see me when I’m at my worst.

“Grif—”

Breathing deep, I push back the memory, her touch helping even if I will never tell her that. “What the fuck are you doing down here?” I growl.

“I could ask you the same thing,” she snarls back, pulling her hand away, and when I turn my back to the wall, she steps in front of me with her arms crossed, obviously trying to look intimidating, but all it does it showcase her rosy nipples poking through the white shirt.

“What the fuck do you want? Taking a break?” I sneer at her, but she just raises her eyebrow at me.

“Griffin,” she barks.

Fury bursts through me, how dare she? This is my fucking home and she’s my fucking mate! Pushing away from the wall, I advance on her. My powers and emotions are going haywire, so much so that I can’t control them.

She caught me at my weakest.

Broken.

Crazy.

“You think you can just go wherever the fuck you like? Walking around here like you’re the fucking queen bee? Because what? The hole between your legs? Or the magic you think holds us together?” She doesn’t step back, she coolly faces down my anger.

I stop when our noses are touching, both of us breathing heavily as I spit the venomous words at her. “You are nothing. You are a fucking face stealer, a fucking parasite.”

Her eyes flash black before the colour bleeds across them, her body vibrating with matching anger. Good, she should be, it’s better than her sympathy or worse, pity.

“And you are the parasite’s mate,” she yells back. Getting in my face.

“I am nothing to you. By morning, you will be gone, out of my fucking life, and I never want to see your fucking face again,” I yell.

“Liar!” She pushes my chest and I stumble back a step, not expecting it.

I expected her to cry, cower, or to turn away from me in disgust.

“You are a fucking liar.” She pushes me again and I fall back from her strength. “Your words are a fucking weapon, sharper than any down here.” She shoves me until I fly backwards and hit the wall, and then she pins me there with her body, all in my face. “You want me, you want the call, but you’re scared,” she purrs, the black of her eyes reflecting my image.

Growling, I grab her under her arse and spin, before slamming her into the wall. “Who’s the liar now? You are the one who wants me, not the other way around.” I hold her with my body and grab the shirt, ripping it in two so it hangs in tatters at her shoulder, exposing the valley between her breasts. Reaching my hand under the fabric, I groan when I meet the wet skin of her