Sapphire Scars (The Jewelry Box #3)

I hated this man because he was filth and rot, but…so was I. And there wasn’t enough room for both of us.

I cleared my throat as the cold, dank stone snuffed out sunlight. “Charles.”

He sucked in a breath and turned to face me. His nose wrinkled at my sorry state. “You don’t give up, do you? Look, go back and have a hot shower. There’ll be plenty of other games.” He reached out and patted my shoulder. “Go on. Have a beer and just, guhh—”

His voice cut off as my hand lashed out and wrapped around his throat.

Every hideous part of me sprang out with fangs.

I couldn’t stop it.

I had no control over the diabolical savagery within me.

He ate people…

Sick.

Vile.

Dead.

Slamming his well-padded spine against the wet rock, I wrapped both hands around his throat.

He tried to speak.

He scratched at my wrists.

He drew blood as he thrashed.

But I just kept squeezing.

The more he struggled, the worse I became.

He turned suicidal in my hold.

Kicking, groaning, flailing.

His weight almost threw me off balance as I kicked away my slippery shoes and planted bare feet on slimy stone.

But I didn’t let go.

I didn’t speak or look away as his eyes bugged wide, his mouth gasped like a dying trout, and his soft body went slack in my hold.

I killed him slowly, personally. I watched his lifeforce sputtering, ending…

I’d killed Daxton in a fugue of fury. I hadn’t been aware when I’d stolen his life.

This was different.

This was cold, ruthless, merciless.

With a soft grunt, he slithered down the cave wall, collapsing between my spread legs.

I went with him, crouching over him, never loosening my grip.

Another roaring.

Another pebble dancing shake.