Fated To The Enemy

Chapter 3. Just Getting Started

Layla POV

Hours had passed, and I hadn’t seen the creep that brought me here again. The lights never went off. They were dimmed, just enough to blur the edges of the room, but never enough to let me forget where I was. Time stretched in a way that made me claustrophobic; there were no windows, no clock, only the sound of the old refrigerator buzzing in the background.

They wanted me disoriented. But I refused to give them the satisfaction. My mind was strong, and it would take far more than this to break me.

I tested my restraints again. The silver burned, searing where the cuffs locked around my wrists. They were anchored deep into the floor, reinforced for good measure. Escaping would be difficult, but impossible? No. Nothing was.

Raven was still unreachable, no doubt still under the effects of the wolfsbane they’d dosed me with. I knew that drug anywhere. I wasn’t sure why it had hit me so hard. I took it regularly to build resistance to it. It must be laced with something else.

It was rough not having Raven here with me. The lack of her was enough to make me feral. I’d gone without her before, learned to function without the bond, but they had taken her from me deliberately. And for that, there would be consequences.

Footsteps approached. They weren’t his; these were sloppy, uneven, hesitant even.

A man appeared at the edge of my vision. He was mid-forties, with thinning hair and eyes that lingered too long. I knew his type, the kind of man who mistook control for permission.

“Looks like you’re awake,” he said.

“What gave it away?” I said with sarcasm.

His eyes dropped, and lingered on my chest like he wasn’t even trying to hide it. No shame. No subtlety. Just raw, uncomplicated interest.

Of course.

I let my shoulders relax, shifted slightly in the restraints, enough to draw his attention back when it threatened to wander. His focus followed the movement like instinct had taken over, where intelligence failed.

Neanderthal.

If he wanted to let his urges lead him, that was fine by me.

Desire made men careless. Careless men made mistakes. And mistakes were opportunities.

I lifted my head slowly. Fearless women frightened men like him. Vulnerable and scared women intrigued them.

“You going to stand there all night?” I asked, teasing. “Or… maybe you could help me a little, and I could make it worth your while…”

His eyes flicked to my mouth. Then my wrists. Then lower.

So predictable.

“They say you’re dangerous,” he muttered.

I smiled faintly. And batted my eyelids, time to play the damsel in distress. “Do I look dangerous to you?”

He swallowed. Followed by a smile.

Sucker.

I shifted in my spot. “They don’t have to know you came in. I won’t tell anyone.”

That did it. He stepped closer. His breath smelled of coffee and cigarettes. His hand hovered, he was nervous, and already fumbling like a fool.

I waited patiently for my moment.

He was desperate, his eyes flicking to my lips, then back to my restrained wrists. I had him measured, every twitch, every hesitation. Waiting for my moment to strike.

“Please be gentle with me,” I whispered, trying to sound coy.

He swallowed hard, smiling as if he'd already won, stepping closer into my space. He loosened his belt and dropped his pants to his knees.

He really thought he was going to get lucky.

I let him come close. Too close. His confidence was palpable. He bent toward me, his eyes greedy with lust, his breath hot.

I whispered, just barely audible, “Kiss me, first.”

He obeyed without hesitation.

Huge mistake.

My teeth sank into his ear with ferocity, ripping through flesh and cartilage. Blood spattered across my face and chest. His scream shattered the silence, it was high-pitched and raw. He reeled back, clutching the place where his ear use to be, as crimson poured between his fingers, dripping to the floor.

I spat the ruined flesh from my mouth and watched it hit the ground. Then I looked at him with my best smile; there was no doubt I was rather pleased with myself.

Chaos erupted, and his back-up came running toward us. I was ready for action, even though I was still restrained in my spot. But, before I could finish assessing the threats, something heavy struck the side of my head. Stars exploded behind my eyes. The metallic taste of blood flooded my mouth. For a heartbeat, the world tilted, but I didn’t fall. I swallowed the blood back, steadying myself, refusing to give him the satisfaction of seeing me react.

“Enough.” The sound of controlled authority cut through the pandemonium.

It was him.

Everyone froze in their positions. He stepped in, cool, calm and collected, taking in the scene, the blood, the chaos, and the sight of one of his minions clutching the spot where his ear once was.

“Get him out of here,” he ordered. “Now.”

Two men dragged their counterpart away. Then a brief silence followed.

That’s what happens when you underestimate me. And there was plenty more where that came from.

He stepped closer and stopped in front of me, his gaze dropping briefly to the blood flooding from my chin.

“You used suggestion,” he said, with a nod. “Nice try.”

“Your man was weak,” I replied hoarsely. “I taught him a valuable lesson.”

The corner of his mouth twitched, not quite a smile. But there was something there. “You could’ve killed him.”

“I still can,” I said. “Untie me.”

He leaned in, close enough that I could feel the heat of him, the restraint coiled beneath his skin.

“You’re trouble,” he said.

“You have no idea,” I replied with a smirk.

For a moment, something dark flickered in his eyes. Then he turned and left.

I sagged back against the chair, adrenaline crashing through me, blood drying on my skin. My head throbbed. My jaw ached from the bite. But I smiled anyway.

I was just getting started.