Page 24 of The Devil We Crave
My poisonous fantasy.
My vicious thrill.
But then the wind gusts, and the glinting thing twirls. I step closer, my brow furrowed, until suddenly my throat clenches tight, as if a fist just wrapped around it. My whole body goes cold as I stare through the blackness at the little silver wolf pendant hanging by its delicate chain from a tree branch extending over the side of the pathway.
Then the soft, ominous crunch of a foot on the gravel behind me sends my spine snapping straight and my heart leaping into my throat in pure terror.
“We meet again,little prey.”
5
YELENA
This time,there’s no masks when I turn to face Achilles. This time, the full power in his gorgeously sculpted face and brooding, dark gaze pierces my flesh as he looms over me.
Previously, if you’d asked me to pick one of The Untouchables to meet alone at night on the edge of the woods, it would have been Achilles Drakos.
Hands down.
He’s the safe, charming, gorgeous heir to the Drakos empire with the million-dollar smile and movie-star looks.
President of Para Bellum.
Chancelor’s list honor student.
Captain of the Privateers, Knightsblood’s unbeaten football team.
Always making headlines for founding new charities in New York City.
But that wasbeforeI realized that he was the masked monster with a knife from last night.
I shudder violently, my chest tightening around my lungs and heart as I stare through the darkness at him. He’s in black jeans and zip-up sweatshirt, the hood framing his face like a vampiric cowl.
“I—”
My words choke off as he slowly prowls toward me.
“I…I don’t think we?—”
“Don’t.” His voice is low, with a honeyed smoothness to it.
I gulp, trying to keep my own voice from shaking when I speak again.
“Don’t what?—”
“Lie about last night,” he growls with an amused lilt. “You’ll just embarrass yourself.”
Heat rushes to my face.
He can’t KNOW that was me. I was wearing a mask. I barely even said a word.
“I don’t know what you’re?—”
I gasp quietly as he starts to eat up the space between us. The heels of my sneakers scuff across the gravel path as I stumblingly retreat, until with a jolt, I feel my back bump against the trunk of one of the gnarled old trees beside it.
Achilles doesn’t slow down. He finally stops right in front of me, caging me against the tree at my back. His sheer towering sizeblots out the crescent moon behind him, bathing his perfect, chiseled face in an eerie shadow.
My throat works as I try to find my words—evenoneword. When nothing comes from my slightly parted lips, Achilles chuckles quietly.
