Chapter 5

VALENTINA

My heart was pounding so hard it hurt. I looked at this man, this vile human who was the only person offering me a way out of my shame. The bond between us hummed low, pushing me to say yes.

I wiped my nose with the back of my hand and looked up at him.

"Tell me, what do I have to do?".

And then he moved even closer, his shadow swallowing me. "This is the Val I know," he said in a low tone.

"Don’t come any closer," I snapped, though my voice lacked conviction. "And you do not know a thing about me."

"Oh, yes I do," he said, reaching out to tangle his fingers in the side of my hair. "I call the shots, so I tell you what to do." He tapped my cheek, a gesture that felt more like a brand than a touch and then he strode back to the large leather sofa.

The room felt colder the moment he stepped away. His face had shifted into a small, sharp frown that meant business. I hated the way he sounded, but my body was a traitor. His scent was making my head spin. I was angry and horny at the same time, it was a sick, confusing emotion that made my skin feel too tight.

He picked up a fat cigar and lit it, the orange glow illuminating the hard lines of his tattooed chest. He blew a cloud of thick smoke into the air, watching me through the haze.

"First, Valentina," he began, "I demand total monopoly on your loyalty and your brilliance." He leaned back, his eyes tracking the way I was still trembling. "I know how you work. I know you built Harold’s throne, and now you’re going to build mine. To get my protection, I require your Oath."

"My Oath?" I countered, my hands balling into fists. "You want me to just hand over my mind to you? I spent years being a ladder for Harold and Agatha. I’m not becoming another step for a man to climb."

Horace chuckled, but there was no humor in it. "You aren't a ladder here, Valentina. You’re the weapon. But a weapon that doesn't belong to a master is just a piece of scrap metal."

"I am not a piece of metal," I hissed. "I knew all Harold’s weaknesses. That information is worth more than your protection."

"Then use it," he challenged, his voice dropping to a low growl. "But you do it under my name. You eat when I say, you sleep where I tell you, and you never look at another man, especially not my cousin unless it’s to watch him bleed."

He stood up slowly, the smoke clinging to him like a shroud. He didn't rush, but suddenly he was in my space again. He didn't touch me, but the heat radiating off his bare skin was enough to make my knees weak.

"You want revenge?" he whispered, leaning down until his lips brushed my ear. "Revenge isn't free. It’s a debt paid in blood and submission. You think you’re tough because you survived a cheating boyfriend? 

“You’re a wolf-less girl in a world of monsters. Without me, Agatha will have you back in Harold’s bed by morning."

I looked at the ice in his blue eyes. I was terrified of him, but I was more terrified of going back to being the girl who cried while others took everything from her.

"I want him ruined," I whispered, my voice thick with a thirst for vengeance. "I want to see the moment he realizes he lost everything to the man he hates most."

"Then sign your soul over to the Reaper," Horace murmured. He traced the line of my jaw with his thumb, forcing me to meet his gaze. "From this moment on, you don't breathe unless I give you the air. Do we have a deal, Valentina?"

I felt the slick heat between my thighs and the cold iron of his intent. I wasn't just joining a team, I was entering a cage with a predator.

"Deal," I breathed.

"I’m going to have the contract ready soon," Horace said, his voice sounding like a threat in the small space between us. "I don’t let people go back on their word. If you try, I will hunt you down.

And I dare not see you with that bastard Harold again, or it will be the end of you, just like my pretty late girlfriend"

From this moment on, he demanded total control. I couldn't write, plan, or think for anyone but the Ravagers wolves. He wanted me to take apart every play I had ever built for Harold. 

"Is that all?" I asked, trying to sound bold, as if I hadn't just agreed to ruin a man’s life in exchange for luxury and revenge.

Deep down, part of me wanted him to stop talking and just keep fucking me. But I couldn't let him see me as needy. I didn't want that to be his first impression of the real me. Fuck, I thought, my mind racing. How did I really just tell this man to fuck me?.

"No, that is not all," he said, his eyes darkening as they moved over me. "You’ll have to dye your hair black. I hate blondes. So that will be all for now".

"What?" I stepped back. "I cannot do that. I won’t hide who I am just because you can't deal with it". I raised a brow, challenging him. "You’ve asked for so much already. All I get in return for my energy is making him jealous? Horace, I won't change my hair for you. 

“Are you still interested, or not?".

He didn't yell. Instead, he reached out and buried his large hands in my pale, blonde hair again. "As much as I hate it, I can deal with this for now," he rasped.

Then he crashed his mouth onto mine. It wasn't a slow build, it was a sudden, starving invasion. I moaned into his mouth, my tongue meeting his in a messy, desperate dance of spit and heat. 

I leaned into him, my body yearning for him, as his heavy hand slid down to my bum, squeezing the flesh firmly. He caressed me with a rough possession that made my head spin, and I found myself pulling him closer, terrified the feeling would stop.

Just as I was losing myself to the taste of him, he pulled away sharply. He wanted me to starve for it. He wanted me to feel the hunger clawing at my gut. He looked down at me, a dark smirk on his face, and then he delivered a sharp, stinging spank to my butt.

"See you whenever I call for you," he said, his voice trailing over my skin.