Ravenous Revenge

Chapter Thirteen- Lyssa

I force a shaky breath, lifting my head to meet his gaze, tucking the panic and uncertainty into the deepest corners of my mind. A slow, bitter smile curls my lips.

"Fine," I say, voice quieter than I'd like, but steady.

"You want the truth? You're right. This..." I gesture toward the blood staining his suit, then lock eyes with him, "...it affects me. But not for the reason you think."

His smirk falters, just slightly, and I seize the opening.

"You think you've got me pinned? That you're the one holding all the power here?" I let out a low, mocking laugh, every note meant to cut. "No, Ares. You're not in control of me—you're just desperate to believe you are. You need this game because you're afraid."

His eyes narrow, the amusement slipping, just slightly. A flicker of tension tightens his jaw—proof that I've struck something raw.

"I'm not the one who's afraid, little fox," he growls, his voice a rough, dangerous rasp. But I can hear it now—the strain beneath the threat. And I push harder.

"No?" I tilted my head, voice dripping with false sweetness. "Then why does it feel like you're trying so hard to prove something? What is it, Ares? What are you so desperate to hide that you need this little performance just to feel... what? Powerful? Whole?"

His jaw tightens—a small, telling betrayal. He steps closer, his presence swallowing the air between us, eyes locked on mine like a predator waiting for a flinch. But I don't move. I won't.

"Careful, little fox," he warns, his tone low and edged with threat. "You don't want to push me."

I let my smile widen, even as my pulse hammers in my throat. "Oh, I think I do," I murmur, the words dripping with mock sweetness. "Because the harder you try to break me, the clearer it becomes—you're just as broken as I am."

His breath catches, subtle but undeniable. And for a fleeting moment, I feel it—the tiniest shift in the balance of power.

Then, suddenly, he moves. The motion is sharp, violent—like a storm uncoiling. The knife slips from his grasp and hits the floor with a hollow clatter that echoes through the room. I twist my head to keep him in sight, every nerve on high alert, refusing to give him the satisfaction of seeing me falter.

Then comes the laugh. It's not the low, controlled sound I've grown used to—it's wild, unrestrained, and laced with something manic. The sound crawls under my skin, cold and wrong.

When his eyes find mine again, I freeze. There's something feral there now, darker than before—something that hums with pure malice. I know then that I've hit a nerve... but not the one I meant to. The wrong one. And now, I'll pay for it.

I pull against the ropes, my heart pounding so hard it hurts.

"My darkness... does something for you," he says, his voice uneven, breath catching between the words.

"I need this game... to feel power," he breathes out, and for the first time, it sounds less like a taunt—and more like a confession that's killing him.

I hear him move out of my sight, but I don't stop struggling. The tension in the air is suffocating, thick enough to taste. If I don't get out of these ropes soon, I know it's only going to get worse.

The mattress dips as he steps onto the bed, reaching for the rope binding me. I tense, every nerve firing at once. He leans in close, his breath hot against my ear.

"If my darkness does something for you," he snarls, voice low and venomous, "maybe we should see if my demons can finish the job."

With a primal roar, he rips my sleep shorts from my body. I gasp, fear gripping me, but something else rises beneath it—a twisted sense of exhilaration I can't quite suppress. His grip tightens as he wraps the fabric around my neck, pulling it tight enough to choke me. My breath hitches, heart pounding in my chest.

I hear the unmistakable sound of his belt, the harsh clink of the buckle as he readies it. My instincts scream to break free, to fight back, but there's this other side of me that's strangely alive in the chaos, something I can't control.

The sting comes suddenly, a sharp, burning pain rips through my backside. He's spanked me with his belt, and I flinch, unable to suppress the physical reaction. I writhe, torn between humiliation and... something darker, deeper. The heat between my thighs betrays me, dampening with arousal.

His mocking laugh cuts through the air, "Does this do something for you, little fox?" His tone drips with dark amusement. My vision fades, black spots blurring my sight, but I refuse to lose control. He releases the pressure from the shorts, letting them drop to the bed, but before I can catch my breath, his belt comes down again. The leather connects with the tender part of my body, and I can't hold back the cry of pain that escapes me.

I try to focus, to block out the overwhelming sensations, but he doesn't let up. His presence is all-consuming, a dark force that threatens to break me.

The sound of his belt dropping echoes through the room, and I can already feel his possessive hold on my body as he spreads my legs. His finger traces down to my most intimate area, and I can't help but whimper in response.

"You cry like you didn't enjoy this, but deep down, only you and I know that your arousal is seeping down your legs."

His words make me question everything, as he takes a deep inhale of my scent and groans with pleasure.

"Your scent, little fox, Its intoxicating.-" Despite my disgust, I can't deny the sensations coursing through my body at his touch.

He continues to explore with his tongue, each stroke pulling a moan from my lips, yet I can't escape the war raging inside me.

"But your taste... It's my newest obsession," he murmurs, his voice thick with hunger. "You make me ravenous, like a wild animal starved for more."

Ares pulls back slightly, his eyes scanning me like a predator sizing up his prey. He's searching for weakness, for any crack in my armor. "Tell me, little fox," he growls, his breath hot against my skin, "how does it feel to be this vulnerable?"

Before I can respond, he grips my hair roughly and forces my head back, tilting my neck to expose the sensitive skin. The sharp tip of his tongue traces a path along my throat, lingering in places that send shivers of unwanted arousal down my spine.

"You can fight it all you want," he whispers, his voice like gravel, "but you're already mine, whether you admit it or not."

His grip tightens around my throat again, just enough to remind me of the power he has over me. The pressure isn't painful yet, but the threat hangs heavy in the air. "Tell me, how much longer before you break?"

He leans in, his lips brushing my ear, as if savoring the moment. "I want you to feel everything," he murmurs, his voice low and dangerous. "Every last inch of control slipping away until all that's left is you begging me for more."

My body trembles, caught between fear and anticipation.

"And as every last inch of your control slips away, I'll feel it, because every single inch of me will claim you."

He slams his c**k into me, and it feels like I'm being torn in half. He proceeds to f**k me as I sway in the air suspended above my bed with such violence, I'm certain the ropes will snap, sending me crashing down. His thrusts are relentless, violent, driven by something primal, almost animalistic, like a man possessed.

I can't stop the moan that escapes my lips, betraying me completely. I'd never admit it out loud, but my control is slipping, unravelling by the second.

"I can feel your body giving in, little fox," he growls, his voice dark and triumphant. "Submission suits you; it's never looked so beautiful."

I shake my head in defiance, refusing to give him the satisfaction of a coherent response. Words refuse to form, choked out by the uncontrolled moans spilling from my lips. A heat coils low in my stomach, sharp and unrelenting, building with every relentless movement.

"Ahh, I can feel it," he growls, his voice dripping with wicked satisfaction. "You're squeezing me so tight. About to lose control, aren't you?"

He sucks in a sharp breath, a hiss slipping between his teeth. "That's it, killer," he growls, his voice low and commanding. "Let go. Explode around me. Unleash those demons."

With his dark permission, I shatter. My body arches, the release tearing through me like a violent storm. A cry rips from my throat, raw and unrestrained, echoing around the room as if the walls themselves were bearing witness to my undoing.

He doesn't stop. Even as my body trembles through the peak of release, his movements remain unrelenting, each thrust a testament to his untamed ferocity. With a guttural roar, he reaches his peak, the blade slashing through the ropes in a single, precise motion. "See, little fox? You're mine." His lips graze my ear, the growl still vibrating in his throat. "No one else gets to touch what's mine. Don't forget that."

He shifts, his weightlifting slightly, but his fingers trail down my arm in a deliberate, almost tender gesture. Then his tone hardens, the predator resurfacing.

"Next time, you won't get off so easily. Be ready. "

Then he was gone. The absence of his weight should have felt like relief, but instead it landed like a keening reminder of how vulnerable I'd been—how easily he'd taken the upper hand. My body ached; every nerve thrummed with sensations I didn't want to name. His scent lingered, invasive and suffocating, tangling with the shame I tried to shove down.

I rolled onto my back and stared at the ceiling, forcing myself to breathe, to think. This wasn't me. This wasn't who I'd trained to be. I was supposed to be sharp, precise, untouchable. Yet somehow he'd stripped me bare, left me raw and questioning everything.

It wasn't only his words that stuck with me. It was the look—the challenge in his eyes, the smug certainty that he'd won.

He was wrong.

This wasn't how it was supposed to go. I'd promised myself I would be untouchable, unshakable, focused only on revenge. Every step of my plan had been meticulously calculated, each move designed to bring him and his empire to their knees. Now... I wasn't so sure.

He was meant to be the target—the monster I would destroy to avenge everything his family took from me. Tonight he wasn't just the beast from my nightmares. He was something more. Something terrifyingly human. The way he'd touched me, the way he'd looked at me—it wasn't only about power. It felt like he wanted me to feel the pull, the confusion, the clash inside me. And damn him, it worked.

I clenched my fists until my knuckles burned. Revenge wasn't supposed to feel like this. His father had killed my parents, ruined my life, and left me to claw my way out of the dark. I had to hate him.

And yet...

My thoughts betrayed me, replaying his growl in my ear, the possessive way he had claimed me, the fire he'd ignited that I refused to name. Was this a weakness? Or could I turn it into a weapon—a way to get closer and gain the upper hand?

Revenge wasn't supposed to be easy. The killing itself might be simple, but dismantling an empire is a time-consuming process. Every step toward him threatened to pull me deeper into his web, blurring the line between hunter and prey.

I wouldn't let him win. No matter how tangled things became, no matter what he made me feel, I couldn't lose sight of why I started this.

My parents deserved justice. I deserved freedom—from the hell that's followed me since I was ten, from everything he stood for: death, darkness.

I drew a shaky breath, closed my eyes, and let the anger rise again. It was the only thing I could trust.

Then I let my mind slip into sleep. Tomorrow will be a new day.