The Reaper (Dark Verse, #2)

by RuNyx

Tristan: Whichever suits you. Yours or mine, doesn’t matter. As long as no more clothes need to be destroyed.

Dante: Dear Morana, whatever you just told Tristan, kindly don’t again. He is just itching to go punch my father in the face and that would be very inconvenient for our plans. I don’t want to get in between whatever you two have going on but please don’t egg him on right now. I need him focused. Thank you. Dante.

Tristan: Dante and I are heading out for the day. Don’t talk to anyone. Don’t head to the main house until we’re back. Morana raised her eyebrow at the tone of the text, shaking her head. Morana: Yes, Mr. Caine. Of course, Mr. Caine. Anything else, Mr. Caine?

How a man like Dante could’ve come out from this monster was a wonder.

“You say you’ve never seen Tristan react until last night. Try killing me and then see what you’ll unleash on yourself. Just try it. I fucking dare you.”

In the span of such a short time, she had friends, relationships. She had people who would give a shit if something happened to her and she had people she wanted to protect.

It was such an odd thing, this new emotion inside her chest. She grabbed on to it, held on to it, cherished it. It mattered.

Seeing her father’s name had reminded her of something she had been meaning to look up after she’d eavesdropped on Dante and Tristan’s conversation the night of the Choice, as she liked to think of it. Yes, with a capital C.

Morana, as out of the loop as she had been back then, had wanted to be in the loop. And what better way to be in the loop than rig the boss’ office.

“What do you mean the men aren’t answering? Call them! I need to know if she’s taken care of.” 'Taken care of'. Nice.

“Her name,” Tristan leaned down to whisper, “is Morana.” Chills.

“Now, I’ll ask you one more time. Where is she?” Her father’s words got jumbled because of his cheek pressed flat against the wood. Tristan eased his head a bit. “She’s dead.” Still.

“That’s for me to know and her to find out,” he said in that menacing tone. "No one else."

“Now, listen to me and listen hard,” Tristan uttered, shaking her father’s jaw for emphasis. “She’s under my protection. Mine. Nobody hurts her. Nobody talks shit about her. Not me, not you, not anyone. Next time I hear you call her anything less than the woman she is, I will cut your tongue out and feed it to your dogs. Next time I see you anywhere close to her, I will kill you. Stay. The. Fuck. Away. From. Her. Do you understand?”

“You,” she whispered to the space between them, “Tristan Caine, are a beautiful, beautiful man. And my heart beats for you.”

“Give them hell,” he whispered to her. She smiled. He stared at her smile for a long, long minute, his magnificent eyes glued to her mouth. And the most beautiful, precious thing happened. His cold, aloof eyes warmed.

Chickened out. Tristan ‘The Nothing-Scares-Me Predator’ Caine had chickened out. Yeah, she hadn’t believed it either. But she had seen it in his eyes, those magnificent eyes.

Grunts. Men.

“A man. He just told me there was someone in this room who would try to kill me tonight.”

It was okay. Nothing happened. She was fine. He was fine. She was fine. He was fine.

She would die and Tristan would detonate. He would destroy on his path to decimation, people including Dante and Amara and hundreds of innocents who did not deserve it.

She couldn’t die. She couldn’t trigger it. Not at this stage of her life. She had finally found something worth living for. Nobody could snatch it away from her. Not now. She had to make it. She had to live.

He headed to it. Her heart began to race again. This was big. Big big. Huge. She knew it. He knew it. And he was still taking steps towards it.

The lock clicked. The alarm beeped. She was inside. Holy fuck.

And after carrying her through from Dante’s house to his and up the stairs, he wasn’t even breathing heavy. Seriously, what did he eat? After the state of her body, she realized she needed to get on his diet.

after her father let her fall down the stairs.

Bro did not let her fall bro pushed her

She did enjoy his animal sounds, she was coming to realize.

"As much as I enjoy these animal noises, you can speak, you know."

“They will die a thousand deaths,” he murmured, almost gently as his thumb traced the line of her jaw, “before they ever touch a single hair on your head again.”

For the first time in her life, she felt home.

Tristan 'The Predator' Caine snored like a baby. No wonder he didn’t like anyone in the room when he slept; his entire reputation would be crushed.

That was the moment she found out something new about herself—she was a cover hogger.

“You made me a promise last night in the dark,” she murmured softly, knowing she had his full attention. “I’m making you one now.” Brushing her thumb over the line of his jaw, feeling the scruff rasping against it, she vowed, repeating his own words. “Never again. You’ll never be alone again. No matter how bad the nightmare gets, I’m going to be right here.”

“Fuck,” he spoke, slight wonder, slight disbelief in his tone. Yeah. She felt that ‘fuck’ too. This whole situation could be encapsulated in that one ‘fuck’.

scissored,

He had badass mob stuff to do and she had nerdy mob stuff to do. They didn’t have the time.

a grudging seed of admiration filling her because they flew through all her security. Her security was the shit.

imreaper00: flesh trade

“What’s Distance Y?” The man beside her paused, “You got to them pretty quickly.” She’d had help from someone. Was it this man? Before she could ask, he answered her. “It’s the Syndicate.” It was an anagram. What the hell.

Knowing it would piss him off, she gave him a cheerful wave and watched him frown.

Her eyebrows hit her hairline as she saw the speed at which he was running away, sighing because he needed to learn to process shit. She already had her hands full.

“I think at this point in our relationship, you should know I don’t like wearing heels.”

She didn’t know what kind of a game he was playing but she wasn’t here for it. Fuck him and fuck him twice for trying to test her. She’d been nothing but open and emotionally unguarded. And she was pissed because he was being a hypocrite

“If you burned as I burn with the need to claim you. That I wasn’t alone in the fire.”

“I don’t just burn with you, Tristan,” she said, her voice shaking. “I burn for you. And I don’t know what I have to do to prove it.”

“What happened?” she voiced as he came closer, trying to make out his expression. It was stone. Something was bad. She looked around for Dante. Looked back at Tristan. No. Fuck no.

“Tristan,” she gripped his arm, shaking him, her eyes watering. “Where is Dante?” He shook his head. No. No. God, no!

“There was always a gun in the drawer, and I almost ended it some days. You know what stopped me every time?” Morana shook her head. “Thinking my sister would always wonder why her brother didn’t love her enough to live for her. I couldn’t leave her with that.”

“A monster,” she whispered between their lips. “My monster. One who could keep me safe and kill the other monsters who wanted to hurt me.”

“You always fucking had him, wildcat.”