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Scorpion’s sting
publish date:
2026-07-18 01:16:54
Latest chapter
SINFUL SALVATION The thaw
The nightmare hit at 3:47 AM.I woke to the sound of a choked, guttural gasp. The bed shook violently. Drake was thrashing beside me, his body rigid, his breath coming in ragged, panicked bursts.“No,” he hissed. “Don’t touch her. Don’t—”I reached for him, my hand finding his chest. His skin was slick with sweat. His heart was pounding so hard I could feel it vibrating against my palm.“Drake,” I said, my voice soft but firm. “Drake, wake up. You’re safe. You’re in bed with me.”His eyes flew open. They were wild, unseeing, swimming in a sea of old ghosts.He stared at me. His chest heaved. His lips parted.Then, he grabbed me.He didn't shove me away. He didn't retreat into himself. He pulled me to him, his arms wrapping around me with crushing force. He buried his face in my neck, his breath hot and ragged against my skin.“I saw her,” he choked out. “I saw my mother. She was bleeding. She was—she was so cold.”“Ssh,” I whispered, wrapping my arms around him. “You’re not there. You
SINFUL SALVATION The babysitter
The nanny arrived at 6 PM sharp.She was a sweet, young woman in her twenties—Marie, Drake had vetted her personally. She had a kind smile and a gentle touch, and Leo had already claimed her as his new favorite person."I'll have them in bed by eight," Marie said, taking Elara from my arms. "Don't rush back. Enjoy your night."I looked at Drake. He was standing by the door, already holding my coat, his grey eyes dark with anticipation."We'll be back by midnight," Drake said. His voice was calm, but I knew that look. He was already undressing me with his eyes.We kissed the kids goodbye—Leo on the forehead, Elara on her tiny, chubby cheek—and then we were out the door.The elevator ride down was torture.Drake didn't touch me. He stood on the other side of the elevator, his hands in his pockets, his eyes fixed on me like a predator sizing up his prey. The tension was electric, thick enough to cut with a knife."You're staring," I said, my voice slightly breathless."I'm appreciating,"
SINFUL SALVATION Vol II: The morning After
The first thing I felt was warmth.The second thing was the weight of a heavy arm draped across my waist, pulling me flush against a broad, hard chest. The third thing was the slow, deliberate press of something thick and insistent against my lower back.I smiled, my eyes still closed.“Morning, husband,” I murmured, my voice thick with sleep.Drake’s low, rumbling laugh vibrated against my spine. His lips found the curve of my neck, pressing soft, lingering kisses along my pulse point.“Morning, husband,” he echoed, the word rolling off his tongue like a prayer. “I like the sound of that.”“I like the feel of that,” I said, pressing my hips back against him. He was hard, heavy, already leaking against the thin fabric of my boxers.He groaned, his grip tightening on my waist.“You’re going to be the death of me, you know that?” he whispered.“Then I’ll die happy,” I whispered back.He rolled me onto my back, hovering over me. The morning light filtered through the curtains, casting a
SINFUL SALVATION The sanctuary
Two years later, the garden was a jungle.The roses had climbed so high they draped over the trellis like crimson waterfalls. The lavender had spread, spilling over the stone pathways in waves of purple and silver. The sunflowers towered over the fence, their golden faces turning toward the sky like worshippers.I sat on the porch swing, my hands resting on the heavy swell of my belly. I was eight months pregnant—a girl this time, due in just a few weeks. She was active, kicking and rolling, a tiny dancer in my womb.Leo was three years old now. He was a whirlwind of energy, his dark hair tumbling over his grey eyes—eyes that had darkened to the exact shade of Drake's. He was running through the garden, his tiny legs pumping, a butterfly net trailing behind him."Papa!" he shrieked, his voice high and bright. "Papa, look! I caught a butterfly!"He held up the net, a small, orange butterfly fluttering frantically inside."I see it, little lion!" I called back. "Now let it go! It needs
SINFUL SALVATION The wedding
The wedding was held in the garden.It was small—just a handful of trusted friends, a few of Drake’s loyal men who had stood by him through the war, and Marcus Bellamy, who had agreed to officiate. The roses were in full bloom. The lavender perfumed the air. The sun was setting, painting the sky in shades of amber and rose.I stood at the altar—a simple wooden arch draped in white flowers—my heart pounding so hard I was sure the guests could hear it. I was wearing a crisp white suit, a simple white rose pinned to my lapel. In my hands, I clutched a small bouquet of lavender and baby’s breath.Leo was being held by one of Drake’s men, sitting in the front row, his tiny eyes wide and curious. He was wearing a miniature suit—tiny, adorable, devastatingly perfect.And then, the music began.Everyone stood.Drake walked down the aisle.He was wearing a simple black suit, a white shirt, no tie. His dark hair was swept back. His grey eyes were locked on mine, the gold flecks burning with lov
SINFUL SALVATION The proposal
Summer arrived like a quiet blessing.The garden was in full bloom. Roses climbed the trellis Drake had built with his own hands. Lavender filled the air with its calming scent. Sunflowers stretched toward the sky, their golden faces following the sun across the blue expanse.Leo was six months old now—chubby, smiling, perfect. He sat in the grass, his tiny hands grabbing at the petals of a fallen rose, his gummy laugh bubbling through the warm afternoon air.I was kneeling beside him, snapping photos with my phone, laughing as he tried to shove a petal into his mouth.“No, no, little lion,” I said, gently pulling the petal away. “We don't eat the flowers.”Leo gurgled, reaching for my nose instead.From the porch, I heard Drake’s voice, low and warm. “He has your stubbornness.”I looked up. Drake was leaning against the porch railing, a glass of lemonade in his hand, his grey eyes soft and golden in the afternoon light. He was wearing a simple white shirt, the sleeves rolled up, his
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