His dark voice trails down her spine, lighting a path of desire that renders her breathless. "If only I were in a position of no consequence."
Alia's breath wavers when the pad of his thumb slowly glides across her bottom lip.
"Then I could give in...
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"Delaying death is one of my favourite hobbies" - Rick Riordan.
Quick question for my lovely readers: are you able to visualise what I write?
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Valen's threat lingers in the air, creating an almost suffocating atmosphere that snakes along the fragile nerves of everyone in the library. The students watch silently with their backs against the walls of the ground floor, a few sit on the floor, knees weak from the emotional fatigue of seeing a man get stabbed in front of them. They watch Valen crouch down in front of the ginger-haired male who freezes like a deer in headlights; eyes wide with terror and a parted mouth that dries further with every passing second.
Valen stares down at him as if he were a piece of dirt, yet his face remains expressionless, a fortified mask to those around him. How these men think they can act out of line is beyond him, he'll have to use them as a lesson for the others who think that they can terrorise the Pack without consequences. Reaching down, Valen slowly grabs the throat of the male and begins to move back to a stand. His calm movements are a stark contrast to the thrashing, screaming male in his unbreakable grip.
The ginger-haired male's blue eyes are bulging, unable to make eye contact with Valen even in the moments leading up to his demise. His fingers claw at Valen's arm, trying to break free but he knows it's useless. He will die here.
Straightening to his full height, Valen holds the male at eye level which causes his feet to dangle above the ground. Slightly tilting his head to the side, Valen scans the male's frame with his icy gaze. A bruised, tear-streaked streaked face stares back at him with desperate eyes that never meet his own.
Weak.
His grip tightens, crushing the male's neck in one, swift movement. Similar to that of a crushed water bottle, the sound echoes throughout the library with the ginger-haired male's screams abruptly silenced. The male's head drops, body becoming limp. As if it were a sack of potatoes, Valen throws the body to the left, uncaring where it lands. He turns to the right and resumes walking, now graced with the silence of the other, trembling men.
Fresh blood coats the surface of a desk, dripping down onto the wooden floor where a body lies. He ignores the other men, knowing that he will deal with them in a moment. They will be punished severely for this - for hurting Liam.
Reaching Liam's unmoving body, Valen moves down onto one knee before gently placing a hand underneath his head. Blood drenches the unconscious male's shirt and Valen slowly raises the fabric to take a closer look at his red abdomen. Stab wounds, he determines. He can't let his Gamma see this. It will ruin him.
The skin of Liam's forehead is cracked open with blood sliding down the side of his face, the path altered by his body being on its side. He has lost too much blood.
