A Cut so Deep - Dani Rene Page 0,41

against one of the thicker trunks, I lean my head back, inhaling deeply, trying to catch my breath that the night has stolen.

My heart is racing faster than it ever has before, and my legs are shaky from the exertion, but I’ve never felt more myself than I do right now. A smile appears on my lips, and I look up at the murkiness above me. A splash of water echoes through the trees from somewhere in the darkness, and I push away from the trunk, my feet carrying me forward.

I don’t know where Cass and Finn have gone, but they’re no longer breathing down my neck. Thankfully, I’m able to catch a breath. My lungs are pulling in air, deeply, and as I exhale, the white puff of smoke from my lips is an indication of how chilly it is out here. But I don’t feel it. I’m hot, sweating, and my mind is clear.

It doesn’t take me long to pass by a break in the trees. I stop when the view before me changes from thick blackness to charcoal. There’s a silver-topped lake in front of me, and I gasp in shock when I see it sparkling in the moonlight.

On the other side of the bank of water, I notice red glowing. My gaze narrows, as I try to make out what it is. Suddenly, arms wrap around me, causing a piercing scream to tumble from my lips.

A hand snakes around my mouth, covering my lips. I can’t call out, but I can certainly fight. My body wriggles in the tight hold of the person behind me. Hot breath fans over my neck, which is trickling with sweat.

“If you keep fighting, I’ll only get hard, and then I’m going to have to ask you to help me with it,” his voice threatens in the dark, causing heat to race down my spine, and pool between my thighs.

Even though I’m trying to speak, his hand is still covering my mouth. I cease all movement, and a dark, animalistic chuckle vibrates through his chest, into my back.

Damien is nothing short of a savage. A hunter who seems to enjoy the chase. He slowly releases me, his body still warming me, but the moment I spin on my heel, I’m met with those luminous eyes.

“You scared me,” I tell him.

“It was all part of the plan, wild rose,” he murmurs, the words feathering over my mouth, and I find myself leaning into him. I’m still shaking when he snakes his arm around my body, pulling me against his chest.

“That was…” I whisper, but I can’t find the words to describe just what I’m feeling. The experience was otherworldly, and even though there are scratches all over my legs and hands, I would do it again.

Damien’s gaze sneaks over my shoulder, momentarily, before he turns, tugging me with him. A quick glance over my shoulder shows me that the fire I noticed there earlier is gone.

“What’s going on?”

“We need to get out of here,” he speaks, but the tone of his voice belies the calmness of his body. Something is wrong.

“I’m not going anywhere until you—”

He cuts me off by spinning on his heel, sneaking his shoulder into my stomach, and hoisting me over his shoulder. And then we’re moving.

I’m bumping against him, up and down, the breath from my lungs whooshing, each time I land stomach first on his shoulder.

“Put me the fuck down, Damien!” My voice carries in the darkness, bouncing off the trees, as we make our way back to the house. But I don’t know if we are headed in the right direction since I’m upside down, and I’m lost.

I hear a branch crack in the distance, and Damien slows down. His feet squishing on the mulch beneath his shoes, and then, I’m sliding down his body. Every hard inch of him, flush with mine.

“I thought you weren’t playing games anymore.” A deep voice comes from the shadows. I recognize it instantly—Creed.

“What do you want, Haven?” Damien pushes me behind him, shielding me from whatever is about to go down.

“I noticed your girl, and I thought I’d come to see if she’s okay,” Creed says. He’s nothing like Damien, with short brown hair and luminous green eyes that shine with malicious intent. He’s inked, from what I can tell when he closes the distance between us. I didn’t notice his tattoos the night of the party, because I wasn’t paying attention, but his neck is a canvas.

“She’s fine.”