The Pure-Hearted Princess and the Kiss of Darkness

10. My Rage

~ ENRIQUE ~

If I thought she was fucking perfect with clothes on… then she was a dream without them. I know I have a type, and that type includes big boobs and meat, but I don’t think I’ve come anywhere close to seeing the perfect body – until now.

Every inch of her is made to perfection. Her creamy smooth skin, soft pink nipples, gorgeous fucking hips that I want to grab onto and yank close. Sexy curvy thighs, and a plump smooth, perfect pussy that I want to part, devour and fuck.

Deliciously perfect and a complete turn-on.

But the thing that irritates me the most - the worst fucking part of this is she is one of them. A Rossi.

And she fucking slapped me.

I glare at the shut door, which she had just run out through, her big sexy ass jiggling as she rushed from the room.

She fucking slapped me!

She’s fucking weird.

Who screams like a dumb chica with a body like that? What is she? Some sort of hentai chick? Well, she does look like one.

Ok, focus.

Fuck, this is my house. She doesn’t call the shots here.

Put clothes on? Why should I listen to her?

I storm out of the office.

‘Pants!’ I snarl, as I storm towards her room. Has she never seen a fucking naked man?

Jose holds out some sweatpants as he raises an eyebrow questioningly. “All good?”

“Check the security around this place while I deal with her.” I snarl, storming towards her room as I pull the pants on.

I have no idea what the fuck those things were inside the office. They looked as disgusting as they smelt and felt. Their skin was raw and reminded me of peeled raw flesh, their breath reeked of infected blood and rotten flesh. And their touch, it felt slimy and ice cold.

But she knew them… knew what they were… This is from NôvelDrama.Org.

She knew how to handle them and that fucking irked me too. I was doing fine, and she was acting like I needed help.

Her words ring in my mind, and I roll my neck. She’s not wrong. Where it had managed to get its claws into me, my body is already aching painfully. I glance down, seeing the dark bruising that is spreading across my shoulders.

I need answers, and she needs a punishment for disobeying me, slapping me, and defying me.

Reaching the room she’s in, I push open the door, glaring at the bed where I can see her hiding under and she whimpers in panic.

Really? Is she for real?

Why does she sound so fucking…

Her behaviour is getting to me, and not in a fucking way that I like.

She peeks out from under the sheets, staring at me with wide doe eyes that are painfully innocent, eyes that make me want to fuck that innocence right out of her. I throb in my pants. Just the thought sounds enticing.

My anger flares at my own thoughts. She isn’t the first woman I’ve seen. What the fuck is my issue? There is no way I would ever consider a Rossi beautiful or sexy.

I storm over to the bed, and she yelps, closing her eyes and flinching.

“Stop fucking playing innocent,” I growl, grabbing her arm and dragging her to her knees. Her breasts bounce, the bedsheet getting tugged a little lower, and although she’s clutching it tightly to her waist, that jacket I gave her does nothing to contain those lush breasts. She gasps, tugging the sheet up as she stares up at me.

“I’m not playing anything. I… what do you want?”

What do I want? What the fuck do you think I want?

“Answers!” I snarl, making her whimper. “This is my pack. You don’t get to ask questions.”

“Crawlers! They’re crawlers!”

I’ve not heard of them… but I also have not accepted the invitation to attend the SWA - The Supernatural World Association, which was recently set up - around six months ago - by a mysterious benefactor, to alert supernatural species across the world of the strange going ons around us.

There is a virtual meeting every three months where Alphas can join the live stream. If these things were mentioned then I’ve missed it.

I just never bothered with mine, and I doubt half of the Packs did.

“So you’ve seen these things before? And why the fuck do you call them Crawlers? Didn’t look like they were fucking crawling to me.”

“I… That was the name they were referred to in a vision… someone had.”

Frowning, I cock a brow. “And how is it that you seemed to know what they were?” I ask coldly.

“Because they’re after me,” she says quietly, looking down.

Why her? Can she ever catch a break?

I push the thought away - like I care.

“Keep talking,” I say quietly, looking down at her. Her breath hitches, and I realise I’m holding her far too close… her heart is racing and that soft cherry blossom scent wafts through my nose as she gazes into my eyes.

Refreshing…

She nods slowly almost as if not wanting to trigger me off. “I… I never meant them to find me here… but they are drawn to powerful auras that are stronger than normal, and I think that’s how they ended up going to you instead. Your aura is remarkable, but I knew what I was doing, why weren’t you letting me face them?”

I clench my jaw, already trying to keep a lid on my temper. How was I supposed to know she was going to be ok?

“Were you worried?” she asks softly.

I glare at her. “Worried for a prisoner?” I scoff. “No, I couldn't care less if you were hurt, or killed. Not my issue. I just didn’t want you getting in my way.”

“Oh. I see. You were also getting in my way.” She says quietly, and it takes me a second to process what just left her fucking mouth. She clamps one hand over it as my eyes flash and I bite back a growl, yanking her closer. My nose brushes hers and she gasps as I glare into her eyes.

“Don’t test me, Princesa,” I warn menacingly. Her every move is grating on my nerves. Tantalizing and mocking.

“I’m not… but you’re injured, and it’s going to get worse,” she whispers softly.

She’s calm, and it’s fucking messing with me. Is she not scared?

She parts those pouty lips, and I swallow hard, letting go of her suddenly, pushing her back onto the bed. She falls backwards, clutching the sheet and I can imagine her naked, lying there and-

Fuck this.

I turn my back on her, trying to calm my raging emotions.

“With that much power… why didn’t you try to escape?” I ask quietly, attempting to clear my head.

She’s silent, and I look over my shoulder where she has her head down.

What is she even doing here? I want to know, but there is no way I can do that without giving away that I know who she is.

“I… I don’t want to anger anyone, so if I’m being held prisoner, I have to stay until my name is cleared. Running away would have made me look like a criminal who is guilty.”

There is no way her father would allow that…

I clench my jaw. “Then… I’ll treat you like a real prisoner,” I say, suddenly turning and grabbing her by the arm. I drag her off the bed, feeling the spasming pain through my shoulder.

Not a sound escapes her, aside from a little gasp. I drag her from the room and down the stairs. She gulps as she stumbles in the sheets, still clutching them tightly, but I don’t slow down, heading towards the lower part of the packhouse. This is an area I hate going to… an area that is no longer used.

A place I never put anyone in… but today… I will.

Her heart is thundering louder, and I can see she’s no longer relaxed, her face pale as we go deeper beneath the packhouse, to the depraved cells where I have spent enough time as a child.

I grab chains and a padlock from a hook on the wall. The metal burns into me as I head around a bend and spot an open door towards the back of the prison hall. I push her mercilessly inside.

She stumbles, falling to the ground harshly, and I don’t bother casting her another glance.

“You want to play prisoner, then here… now I’d like to see you escape,” I say coldly, slamming the door shut, and feeling the magic burn my skin before I wrap the chains around the bars. But she doesn’t even move.

“Ok.”

I hear that whispered reply and it just irks me more that she isn’t putting up a fight, but the burning pain in my shoulders is getting on my nerves.

“Wait!” she calls when I’m a few yards away, but I keep walking. “Please listen, it’s about your wound. Water that has been under the direct moonlight will help with the injuries. You first need to-” I slam the door behind me, not wanting to hear another word from her and take the steps two at a time.

I bite back a groan, the throbbing pain now spreading through my arms. It’s gradual but obvious that it’s getting worse. I’m barely up the stairs. I need to rest for a bit… then I’ll be fine.

“Enrique!” Jose shouts as he rushes over.

“I’m fine.” I snarl. He hesitates before he backs off a little.

“Alright…” he says, “Are you sure?”

“Fucking sure,” I growl.

I do my best to hold myself upright as I head to my bedroom, feeling my arms lose sensation.

“Enrique…”

“Drop it, cabrón!”

“Alright, chill.” He grumbles as he gets my bedroom door for me.

I’m grateful for that, even if I’m pissed at him.

“You sure you’ll be ok? Your shoulders are looking bad-”

One scathing glare, and he raises his hands in surrender. “Alright… Alright, sorry.” He surrenders, scratching his tattooed cheek. Something he does when he’s nervous. “Well, I’ll hold down the fort until you feel better. Sure, you don’t want me to call a doctor?”

“No, fuck off.” I snarl, dropping onto my back. “Oh, and make sure the prisoner in the old cells is not given food!

I’ll never give her food… Not after what it costs me in the past.

He sighs before the door shuts and I roll onto my side, dropping my strong demeanour and groaning at the intense pain.

Fuck, this hurts…

I just hope by morning it wears off…

She really has brought bad luck here…

But even as I succumb to the pain, I can’t help but think of the image of the sexy curvaceous woman from my mind…