The Reaper (Dark Verse #2)

by RuNyx

“Look at me.” Three words penetrated her haze. That commanding timbre. That razor tone. Whiskey. Sin.

Tristan Caine did not open doors or help ladies up the stairs. At least, he never had until then.

“His demons dance with mine,” she murmured softly, the truth of that statement seeping into her pores. “That’s all I can give you.”

‘You try to leash me, I’ll fucking strangle you with it.’

And then he shook his head at Morana, just once, dispelling whatever doubts had started to creep in.

“Touch her without permission again,” Tristan Caine stated so quietly the impact hit her harder, that voice of whiskey and sin sending shivers of a completely different kind over her spine, “and I will break you.”

“You’re with vultures now. They feed off the dead.”

Past tense, Mrs. Mancini. But I’m the present and the foreseeable future.”

“Maybe,” Morana shrugged. And then she leaned in closer. “Or maybe, I will destroy him for anyone else.”

Tristan: ?

😭😭😭 man of few words fr

God, he had to be the stupidest man on the face of the earth. One did not ask a woman who was jealous as hell if she was jealous. Just no.

“Are you the Mancini who likes to rape his wife or is that a poorer relation of yours?”

Omg Morana where have you been hiding all this time?

“This won’t happen again,” he warned. The man beside her said in the same tone. “It better not.”

Morana retained her smile. “Terror.” “Power.” Morana nodded, pretending to agree. “Senility. One of the signs of old age.”

I'm your Pandora's box. So, if I were you, I'd keep me very, very happy and very, very alive. Because once this box opens, your power, your empire, you will crumble and you wouldn't be able to do a thing to stop it."

And it tilted her world on its axis because he had a dimple. He. Had. A. Fucking. Dimple.

“I’m not a victim. I’m vengeance,” she ground out. “Mark my words, Mr. Maroni. I am going to make you pay—for every single scar you’ve put on Tristan; for every little hurt you inflicted on Dante; for banishing Amara from her home. And for all the girls who went missing.”

“Good. And anytime you forget that, just remember how I killed my father when I was a boy for her. And think on and think of the people I can kill now that I am a man to keep her safe.”

And Morana couldn’t hold it in anymore. Without a moment’s hesitation, she ran towards him, and threw her arms around his neck, holding on tight.

“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.

Tristan ‘The Nothing-Scares-Me Predator’ Caine had chickened out.

Now shoo. Go lurk like a lizard somewhere else. I have work to do.”

Shorty grunted. “You Caine’s girl?” Morana felt her lips twitch even as she forced herself to keep them straight. “Yes.”

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.

Just his big hands holding hers, his presence, his house—she wished she’d had him growing up.

Listening to it, to the tension in his body personified by the rate of his beating heart, Morana felt her own clench in response to its call.

He’d smeared blood over her face. And Tristan had wiped it. Again.

“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.”

Tristan 'The Predator' Caine snored like a baby.

“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.”

“Break that promise,” he spoke, his voice soft as the underside of a blade, “and I will break mine.”

“To not destroy you.” His lips were right there against hers, almost there but not quite. Her face straining closer to bridge the gap but held back by his hand in her hair. She smiled, knowing he could feel it between them. “Destroy me.”

It was her at her graduation, getting a degree, and smiling.

Omfg

The theme of the brown and green forest was evident in this space as well.

He had badass mob stuff to do and she had nerdy mob stuff to do.

She got a flash of dimples.

“My loyalty is not a luxury for you, Morana. It’s a gift and it’s yours. You never have to walk into a room and question 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.”

How he knew she had a tracker on his phone in the first place, she didn’t know.

He broke.

“I’m so in love with you, caveman.” She saw his eyes flare slightly, his hand coming to rest around her neck, gripping her firmly. “You can’t take that back,” he warned her fiercely.

“I’m in love with you, Tristan Caine. I don’t expect you to say it back. I don’t need you to. I just need you to keep on loving me.”

“You are exactly where you were supposed to be,” he told her, his voice leaving no room for doubts. “I know exactly who you are.” “Who am I?” “Mine.”

You are mine and you are exactly where you’re supposed to be.

“Your body, your life, your heart – they’re all mine now. Trust me to keep all of them safe.”

Feeding Morana though? It was almost a high he craved. He loved reading her face. From the very beginning, he had fed her and known exactly how she’d enjoyed his food.

He wanted to tell her he loved her too. And he didn’t know how to tell her that, how to verbalize that. Maybe one day he would. He hoped