Lisbeth’s neck craned back, her blue eyes stained red as they met mine, the tears still falling to run the edge of her jaw and glimmer beneath the light.
Wanting nothing more than to taste her pain, I remained in place to watch her break.
Her lip trembled again before she let out a breath and blinked her eyes.
“Please,” she said, the word crawling up my spine with tempting fingers, “why won’t you just talk to me?”
Lisbeth
When Edward had come into my room earlier that afternoon, I’d known what it was about. There was no way Callan would let it slide that I’d spied on him, no way he’d let me walk away unscathed.
I’d expected to be shown back to the dungeon, or worse, the pit. But instead, I was told to clean the family suites, to grab my cart and run along immediately.
It didn’t surprise me to find Callan waiting. But still, even knowing he would be here to make my life hell, I wasn’t ready to face him after seeing him in the gym. And now as he stood above me silently staring, I couldn’t stop the onslaught of memory, couldn’t quiet the whispers in my head of just how beautiful his body had been, just how easily his voice had sunk into my skin until I was forced to run from that room.
Only to find myself now kneeling at his feet.
Not that he’d demanded it of me. No. He didn’t have to say a word for me to know what he wanted.
I couldn’t stand his silence any longer.
“Please,” I begged. “Why won’t you just talk to me?”
Shadows danced behind his amber eyes, reflections of our past, whispers of our present, and so much rage that I flinched to see it brought to light.
There was nowhere for me to go as Callan crouched down to level his stare on mine, no place for me to hide as he braced a forearm on his bent knee, his fingers stretching out to their full length. But then they curled again, a quick snap into a fist that launched toward me so fast I didn’t have time to scream.
Not that I could get a sound out when his hand locked around my throat and he tugged me forward, my mouth falling open, my lungs struggling to breathe.
His scent was the second attack, the musk and spice wrapping around me until it was the last breath I could take. Callan had trapped his essence inside me while stealing my ability to set it free. And as my knees were dragged across carpet and glass, his heat assaulted me next, the pure, menacing power of his body and the feel of his breath against my cheek.
Lips brushing my ear, he finally spoke to me while my fingers clawed at where he held me in a desperate fight to wrench myself free.
“What, exactly, would you like me to say to you, Lisbeth?”
I winced at the dangerous gentleness of his voice.
My mouth opened and closed like a fish out of water, my lungs on fire from lack of air, but rather than release me as stars began bursting at the corners of my eyes, he squeezed his hand tighter, my pulse pounding against the length of his fingers.
“Did you want me to tell you that I remember everything you did to me when we were young? Did you want the same insults shoved down your throat that you shoved down mine? Or how about I bring my friends in here to make a joke of you so that they can laugh like yours did?”
Pausing, he pulled his face back and grinned at the way I struggled for air, his actions so controlled while I was a pathetic mess with panicked eyes and endless tears.
Voice lowering to a treacherous whisper, he asked, “Is that what you want from me?”
I shook my head, or at least attempted to as the room faded in my peripheral vision, my tongue falling forward in a desperate attempt at breath.
With his other hand, Callan gripped my face to hold my mouth open, his punishing fingers sinking my cheeks between my teeth as he slowly relaxed his hold on my throat and allowed me to breath.
Pulling my face so close to his that his lips brushed against mine, Callan locked his stare to my terrified gaze.
“Or maybe I could fill your mouth like I did Isabelle’s. Maybe I should come down your throat, so that the next time you swallow when I demand it,