Page 82 of Tears of Revenge

When she took the next step down, Varos guided her to the same dungeon where she’d seen Lysander shift. “The silver in here will make you feel distracted and hopefully lessen your focus on him.”

Human instinct made her want to take a deep, centring breath but as Varos unlocked the door, she stopped herself. It crept open, and she was hit with the most delicious scent. Even without actively breathing, it crept up her nose like a snake trying to coerce her into eating the forbidden apple.

“Focus on the silver,” a deep, urgent voice reminded her, peering through the veil from that dangerous scent. “It’s burning into your skin, remember?”

She wrapped the necklace tighter in her fist, and took another step. Her eyes landed on him and she halted, everything she’d become washed away in an instant. He was tied to the hooks in the wall with ropes, his pathetic human hands not fitting into the contraptions designed for Lysander’s lycan.

“W-what the fuck?” Troy stammered, thrashing against the ropes as she approached.

His heart raced, his veins protruding gorgeously as fear pumped through his veins. Fear she could sense, fear she wanted to taste.

Twenty-Nine

Marcus

Marcus watched Avalon step into the room, her eyes bloodshot red and her fangs pushing past her lips.

“Focus on the silver,” Varos reminded her, keeping his cool while also watching her closely. “It’s burning into your skin, remember?”

Avalon clenched her fist and took another step. Her skin burning made his neck hair crawl, but he didn’t dare intervene. This was necessary. The moment her eyes laid on Troy, he knew he had to stop her. He could practically see her resolve crumbling. The girl he’d saved four years ago flickered across her features before a wicked grin formed on her face and her tongue licked her lips.

Avalon rushed forward, and Marcus had his hand around her throat. He slammed her into the concrete without remorse. She hissed, her claws slashing his face and covering both of them in his blood.

A high pitched scream sounded behind them but before the fucker could finish his breath, it abruptly stopped. Marcus swung his fist at Avalon’s temple. He hoped the pain would overshadow her bloodlust, but it only made her furious. Varos flew to his side, catching Avalon’s wrist and helping Marcus drag her from the room. The door slammed behind them but she didn’t calm.

Another sweet scent—though not as sweet as Troy’s—caught her attention.

“Let her go,” Lysander commanded.

Quick as a flash, Avalon had her fangs buried in Lysander’s neck. Her fingers curled into his hair, holding his head at a painful angle, but Lysander didn’t fight. He already had his arms around her, carrying her up the stairs.

“You did so well, little dove,” Lysander praised, strain evident in his voice. Avalon was filling him with her venom. “So, so well.”

Marcus quickly passed them and grabbed the glass he’d made sure to have ready. When he turned, Lysander had already planted Avalon on the counter of the island. Varos helped Marcus pull her free from Lysander’s flesh and force the donor blood down her throat. That seemed to do the trick. Her eyes cleared, the red fading away.

The moment Avalon was herself again, her eyes widened. She reached out, and only then did he realise that he was still bleeding.

“Half as bad as it looks,” he tried to shrug it off.

“I did that.”

“I’m fine,” he said and turned, accepting the glass that Varos handed him. His wounds sealed and the bleeding stopped, but the bloody mess was still very apparent on himself—and the floors. “Glad we decided on hardwood floors. What a mess that carpet would have been.”

Avalon stared at him for a moment and then turned her gaze to Lysander, who Varos was healing by dripping blood over his neck. “I hurt you too.”

“Ah, we both know Lysander enjoys your little wild rides,” Marcus chuckled, selecting cleaning supplies from beneath the sink. While he re-traced his steps, he listened to Varos and Lysander comfort her.

“You were outstanding,” Varos praised. Out of the corner of his eye Marcus saw him place a kiss on her temple. “You had yourself under control for quite some time before Marcus had to intervene.”

“It only felt like seconds.” Avalon frowned and slipped from the counter to pour herself another glass. “Like I barely took a look at him and…” She trailed off.

“But those moments before you lost control were precious and strong. Marcus and I wouldn’t have been able to do that.”

Marcus returned to see a proud smile brighten her face.

“Thank you.” She rolled her shoulders and shook her hands out. “I forgot who I was for a moment. I felt like that woman who ran from him the night I met you.”

“I’m glad you found yourself again.” He dumped the cleaning supplies back where they belonged and pulled her close. “I love seeing you like this.”