Ravenous Revenge

Chapter Five-Ares

Her voice is like velvet—smooth, sultry—and it rolls over me, sending blood rushing south. My body tenses, instinct telling me to stay in control, but my beast is already awake. I take a deep breath, trying to contain it. In for four, hold... out for four.

Then I feel it. Her touch. Warm fingers brush my arm, and every muscle in my body tightens. It's not helping. Not at all.

I try to focus, to keep my mind sharp, but everything else blurs into nothing. The way she smells—jasmine and citrus—engulfs me. I can't think, can't breathe. My pulse races. She's sitting too close. Too f*****g close.

Her fingers travel up my chest, along my neck, stopping just before my lips. I freeze.

What the hell is she doing to me? I've never had a woman move like this—never been touched with such precision and sensuality. I need to have her now.

I open my mouth to answer, to tell her my name. She cuts me off with a smirk, and then she's gone.

"Bored now," she says, eyes flashing with mischief as she stands and walks away. My heart pounds, frustration bubbling up.

What the actual f**k? No one dismisses me. Not like that. She's playing a game. And I'll be damned if she thinks she's going to win.

I follow. My feet move before I can stop them, cutting through the crowd like a predator. She's quick—damn quick. I spot a flash of auburn hair, then she turns into an alley. I'm right behind her.

The alley is dark, and she's already vanished.

Fuck. I'm about to give up when I feel it—a cold, sharp edge under my chin.

"Why are you following me?" Her voice, smooth like honey, is the last thing I expect.

I laugh. If she knew she was holding a knife to a psychopath, she'd be terrified.

"ANSWER ME!" she demands, pressing the blade tighter to my skin, drawing blood.

The beast inside me roars, shrieking to punish her. I shove him back. The migraine hits like a ton of bricks; pressure pounds inside my head. I push her hand down, grab her by the neck, and slam her against the brick wall.

"Don't do that, little lady. You won't like the results," I growl.

She doesn't flinch. "Oh? Want to put that to the test?"

What the hell? She doesn't even seem to realize who she's dealing with.

I tighten my grip on her throat, hoping she'll get the hint, but instead she moans—softly.

The f**k!? She likes this.

Before I can process it, she hits me with an uppercut that sends shockwaves through my skull, then kicks me in the face.

My mind reels, but I recover fast. We're fighting now—blow after blow. She's fast, faster than most of my fighters. It's almost like sparring with a shadow, a phantom that's both haunting and arousing.

Twenty minutes pass and we're both panting, sweat slicking our bodies. I'm impressed. I haven't met anyone who can go toe‑to‑toe with me without serious injury.

"You're good," I admit between breaths.

She smirks, clearly enjoying it. "Well, that was fun."

Her eyes shine with the thrill of violence, and I know that look. It's the same one I see in the mirror.

"Where'd you learn to fight like that?" I ask, curiosity slipping through.

She shrugs, face relaxed. "Here, there, everywhere."

Bullshit. I know a trained killer when I see one.

Her nonchalance is infuriating. "Don't play coy. Your skills are beyond self‑defense."

She meets my gaze—silver‑gray eyes steady, full of confidence. "Wouldn't you like to know?"

This woman is a force of nature. I can't decide if she's got a death wish or bigger balls than mine.

Either way, I'm not letting her go. I have to know what drives her—power, revenge, or something else—because with her, I can already feel myself being burned. And it feels... damn good.