Fractured (The Deep in Your Veins Series Book 5)(3)

“He touched what wasn’t his to touch.”

I could only gape. This whole conversation was just…I mean…what the fuck? It had totally blindsided me. Seemed too bizarre to be true. I didn’t know how to process it, and I didn’t know how to feel about it.

He watched my throat work as I drank the NST. “Tell me what you’re thinking.”

“I’m thinking I need to go.”

His hand shot out and grabbed my wrist. “You know what I like about you, Imani? I don’t have to play guessing games with you. You let it all hang out. If you’re pissed, you show it. If you’re happy, you show it. If you’ve got something you want to say, you just say it. Right now, you’re closing down on me. Tell me what you’re thinking.”

I threw my empty bottle in the trash. “I find all this hard to believe.”

“You think I’m lying to you?”

I shrugged. “My mom always said that guys are like commercials—you can’t trust a single word they say.”

“I’m not lying, Imani.”

“Can you blame me for being doubtful? You made it clear eleven months ago that you didn’t want anything more than…”

“You beneath me,” he finished. “Back then, I didn’t. Things have changed.”

“What does that mean exactly?”

“It means that I want everything you are.”





(Butch)



I could see that my answer took her off-guard. It also spooked her. That was a smart reaction. Because I wouldn’t accept anything less than everything. And because, contrary to what little Imani Prince liked to think, I wasn’t a good guy. I was close to the sociopath that I’d long ago been branded. Yes, I was well aware of what people said about me. I didn’t care; that would require energy I could use on something else.

I’d been protective of her since the second she was brought to The Hollow. Limbs tight to her body and her hand at her throat, the pretty little doe-eyed female had regarded my entire squad with a wary gaze. She’d done her best to look calm and unafraid so that Paige would agree to leave her side and help the injured vampires around us. But it had been blindingly clear that Imani expected one of the squad to pounce on her.

Then she’d looked right up at me. Even as a human, people were wary of me. ‘It’s something about your eyes,’ so many had said. I’d heard my eyes be described as eerie, dead, and empty. I used to spook the shit out of my teachers as a kid, which had been pretty entertaining.

Yet, Imani’s first words to me had been: ‘Your eyes are really dark. I have total eye colour envy right now.’ And I’d sworn I wouldn’t let a damn thing happen to this female who looked at me with absolutely no fear. She was the only person who seemed to think I was normal. Or maybe she just didn’t care that I wasn’t.

I’d watched her closely, looked out for her on assignments. And I’d eventually acted on the unrelenting urge to take and claim; to live out the fantasy of her little body wrapped around me while I pounded in and out of her. She was all wicked curves and smooth muscle, and there wasn’t a single inch of her that I hadn’t tasted.

There was something transfixing about her; in the way she carried herself with confidence and poise. In some ways, she made me think of a cat. She was graceful. Curious. Independent. So easy-going she often came across as aloof to those who didn’t know her. Not to mention that she could fall asleep just about anywhere. And then there was that condescending look she’d mastered. Perversely, when she jutted her chin and gave me that haughty attitude, I wanted nothing more than to bend her over and fuck her raw.

What appealed to me most about her was the quiet strength that stamped her as a survivor. Not just a survivor, a fighter.

She thought I didn’t know her. She was wrong. I’d watched her grow and toughen since joining the legion. I’d seen her at her weakest, seen her at her strongest, and seen her at her most dangerous. I both admired and respected Imani Prince.

I’d spent the entire time we’d been sleeping together telling myself I didn’t want more. I’d spent the time since then realising that I did. I just didn’t have much to give her. But I couldn’t stay away. She was an addiction I couldn’t shake. A dangerous obsession that wouldn’t fade. She was...important.

“Everything I am?” she echoed.

Slowly rounding the breakfast bar, I stalked toward her. Tensing slightly, she turned to face me—head up, back straight, and eyes boldly on mine. So fucking strong. I brushed my thumb over her pulse. “I’ve missed the taste of you.” Sweet and tangy. “Missed being in you.” Missed her blood flowing into my mouth while her body tightened around my cock.

“Butch—”

“I’ll have that again. Because when I say everything you are, I mean exactly that. Your blood, your mind, your body, your soul—everything.” I buried my hand in her silky long hair; it was just a few shades darker than her hazelnut brown eyes. It always smelled like vanilla, and it perfectly complemented her unique scent of strawberries and cream—a scent that seemed to have embedded itself in my lungs, just as her taste seemed embedded on my tongue.

When I’d watched her walk out of my apartment the last time we were together, knowing that she’d never be back, it had felt like a punch to the solar plexus. Back then, I hadn’t understood why it hurt. Not until I saw her with Dean.

The jealousy hadn’t come as a surprise, considering the possessiveness that I hadn’t been able to shake off. But the pain...I hadn’t expected that. My stomach had rolled whenever I saw them together. Each time she’d smiled up at him or laughed at something he’d said, an ache built in my chest. That ache had gotten worse the longer they were together.

So many times I’d come close to punching the prick—especially when he shot me one of those smug smirks. He’d seen the way I looked at her, and he’d known he had what I wanted most. And he’d loved that. Got a kick out of it.

The only thing that had held me back was that he was good to Imani. He’d treated her well, and he’d seemed to care for her. That was why his betrayal had come as such a shock to everyone. But some people were just weak against temptation, and some took what they had for granted. Maybe that was why Dean had fucked her over. I didn’t know.

The first thing I’d done was beat him to a pulp for hurting her.

The second thing I’d done was decide that I’d somehow get her back. This time, I wouldn’t let her go. I’d take this second chance with her, and I’d make it work. Nothing would get in my way—not Imani’s doubts, not my issues with relationships, and definitely not Dean.

“Is the prick trying to win you back?” I rumbled.

“He has a name, you know.”

“Don’t care. He had what I craved every fucking day and night. That makes him a prick.”

Flushing, she briefly averted her gaze. “The constant cravings…They’re not real. It’s the Keja allure that makes you feel that way—it keeps our prey coming back again and again. It’s probably what caused your jealousy and possessiveness too.”

I gave a slow shake of the head. There were plenty of her breed around The Hollow; I’d learned to withstand the Keja allure a long time ago. “If that was the case…” I put her hand over my cock. It was so painfully hard, I could hammer nails with it. “This would happen every time I was around Paige, too.”

Lips flattening, Imani made a feral noise in the back of her throat. She snatched her hand free and folded her arms over her chest.

“If he does contact you, be sure to tell him how things are with you and me.”

She sighed, looking sad and weary all of a sudden. “You don’t want a relationship, Butch. Not really. If you feel possessive and jealous, it’s because of the Keja allure. The cravings will fade, they always do.”

Speaking softly, I smoothed her hair between my fingers. “Ah, baby, you’re not listening to me. I fucked up before. I let you go. That’s not happening again. Get used to it. Learn to like it. We’re gonna do ‘more,’ and we’re gonna make it work.” There was no other acceptable option for me.

Her spine snapped straight and her chin lifted at the command in my tone. I should have remembered she lost her easy-going temperament when anyone pushed her.

“Is that so?” She backed away, irises flaring slightly. “It’s been almost a year, Butch. You didn’t want me. Not badly enough to try a relationship. I wasn’t mad at you for that. I don’t think it’s fair to be upset with someone for what they do or don’t feel. So I accepted it. I wasn’t a bitch to you. I didn’t let any of it bleed over onto our working relationship.”

No, she hadn’t. It was something that I’d appreciated.

“I accepted that I wasn’t enough for you that you’d push yourself out of your comfort zone, and I moved on. Moved on, Butch. You can’t come to me now and expect me to just fall right in line because you’ve decided that, hey, you’ve changed your mind.”

“I can. And I just did. As for you not being enough for me? That’s total shit, Imani. I never once thought that. I never once felt that way.”