Under Your Scars (Under Your Scars, #1)

by Ariel N. Anderson

A serial killer went out of his way to return my most important belongings. The thought alone is unsettling.

His answer is immediate, like it’s been rehearsed. “You’re so much more than a nobody, Elena.”

“It means that I’m going to make you want me as bad as I want you. I’m going to make you fantasize about how it feels to have my fingers in your greedy little cunt. I’m going to make you beg for my tongue against your clit. I’m going to make you so wet and needy for me that you’ll do anything to get me to relieve that hot, achy feeling inside you. Once you admit you want me, that’s when I’ll show my appreciation. With every part of me. On every part of you.”

I’d be lost without you by my side.

“It’s in case you ever need help,” he explains. I lift the chain to examine it. “The charm attached is a silent panic alarm. You turn it on by clicking it five times. You’ll feel it vibrate, and it will send me an alert with your exact location. If you press it, I’ll come. No matter what.”

“I don’t want to kill you, angel. I want to keep you all to myself. You’d better take off those rose-colored glasses and accept that the only place you belong is in my black heart.”

“They need to know what happens when they touch what’s mine, Elena. They’re going to convert religions, because they won’t be praying to God, they’ll be praying to me. Begging for my fucking mercy after I hunt them all down and show them the true meaning of fear.”

“If you’re so concerned about my humanity, Elena, then reach into my soul and find it, because I’m not sure I have any left.”

Can’t remember the last time someone had the balls to shoot me. Respect.

There’s no such thing as bulletproof. Bullet resistant is a much more accurate term, but bulletproof sounds a lot fucking cooler, and I’m as close to bulletproof as anyone can get.

Bloody. Just the way I like my kills.

Eight. I’ve given him eight souls since September sixth. It should have only been one. It should have only been me.

I see more than you think I do.

“Mr. Reeves thinks you’re pretty too, ‘cause he won’t stop looking at you.”

Did I really almost just let a serial killer feel me up in a dank alleyway? What the fuck is wrong with me?

I know exactly why I desire her in my soul, and I’ll tell her about it one day, because she deserves to know why I call her angel.

Everything that’s happened in my life over the past few weeks has felt like a fever dream. I’m not sure which parts are real and which parts I’ve hallucinated.

“Do you believe in soulmates?” The corner of his mouth tilts into a smile. “Not until I found you.”

“Seems like crawling is an activity beneath royalty such as yourself.” I pause just inches away from his legs, sitting back on my heels. “Do you want me to stop?” “Fuck no,” he growls back, his voice husky. “Crawl to me, Ellie.”

“Ellie, if you don’t think I’m going to spoil you rotten you are sorely mistaken.”

It’s a shame I’m already destined for Hell, because it’s not where angels belong. But I’m not going anywhere without her.

“I love you.” I say through gritted teeth, her hair wrapped tight around my fist. “I love you so much it makes me insane. I love you so much it makes me dangerous. I love you so much that I would burn this world for you and all the people in it just to keep you all to myself. Do you understand me? If it comes down to a choice, you will choose me. I don’t give a fuck if it costs the remainder of your soul. You are mine and only mine.”

The man who would burn the world for me without so much as a second thought if I asked him to.