Page 122 of Heartless Sinner

Nothing ruined a moment like another man’s blood in your Fawn’s hair.

I would tear the world apart for this woman.

Bleed out on this fucking concrete for her.

Kill anyone who tried to hurt her.

And soon, I’d have to let her go.

Daphne was supposed to be temporary.

One year to fuck her out of my system. One year to punish her, possess her, get my fill of her until I could finally walk away.

Except every time I fucked her, I wanted her more.

Every time I had her, I got greedier.

I stared down at her. “Kneel.”

She dropped to her knees without a fight.

Enzo stepped forward. “Who kneels before the Son?”

“Electa mea,” I said to the room.

“My chosen,” I mouthed to her.

For one fucked-up second, it felt like a wedding.

Except our altar was concrete, our witnesses wore masks, and Sinclair’s blood was still in my bride’s hair.

“Is she unclaimed?” Enzo asked.

“Yes,” I answered.

Enzo held my stare as he gave the final command. “Mark her. Name her. Bind her.”

The masked men began to chant.

“A Fawn claimed is a Fawn protected. With blood, she is chosen. From us, she shall be free. Stay loyal. Do not run.”

I didn’t join them.

Only looked at Daphne before pulling her to her feet.

I closed my fingers around her wrist, then turned her hand over and slowly dragged my thumb across her palm.

Years ago, I’d overheard Daphne and Adelina debating palmistry and how every line in your hand held some secret about your life. I’d called bullshit. After that, I’d gone home and researched the fucking thing anyway.

I’d wanted to know what those lines said about Daphne.

And maybe what mine said about me.

I ran my thumb along the curved crease wrapping around the base of hers.

Life line.

I found the one cutting toward the center of her palm.