Fern and one of his faceless henchmen escorted me to her office. As I entered, Dr Chaser stood from her desk, raising a hand in silent command, eyes fixed firmly on the men behind me.

Fern paused mid-step, halting at the entrance. “Doctor, I implore that we attend this session. For your safety.”

She didn’t even deem him with a reply, instead shutting the door directly in his face. I snickered. Fern was a brute who thrived on authority. He wouldn’t let that go lightly.

Sweeping back to her desk with refined poise, her long hair fluttered behind as if she had her own damn breeze. Countless shades of natural browns reflected a glossy sheen with each angle that she bent her slender, breakable neck.

Dr Chaser was either a naïve bitch with no life preservation, or she was that fucking stupid to think there was no danger in entering the lair of a starved hunter.

I flipped the heavy chair to sit backwards, using the back as an armrest, lighting a cigarette.

Dr Chaser sat behind her desk, her stare slowly tracking over my form until her brass amber eyes locked on mine. Her mask was impassive, cold and infuriatingly unreadable.

Frustrated, I exhaled smoke straight into her face before rolling my mouth into a sneer. I swear her eyes flared with anticipation, lips twitching slightly at the corners.

Game on, bitch.

Dr Chaser removed her lab coat and jacket, remaining in a short-sleeved dress shirt. I greedily traced the multicoloured tattoos riddled up her exposed arms, some peeking out of her collar. The imagery was drawn with such meticulous precision. I was impressed.

Her actions and manner of dress were hardly wanton, however my brain and body didn’t seem to care, reacting all the same. A fiery ache of hunger festered in my gut and when I thought how fucking ridiculous my reaction was, I caught a flash of passion hidden in the recesses of her reflective pools.

My mouth stretched into a wide, shark grin. “Is this your form of treatment, Doctor? To seduce me into submission? Well, how bout we both get some therapy and strip your panties off next?”

She ignored me completely, preferring to bait me instead.

“Everyone thinks you’ve lost the plot. That you're dim-witted and have nothing of substance up here,” she said, tapping a finger on her temple. “But that’s not it, huh, Psycho? There’s more to you, much more.”

I arched a brow at her forward approach. She really did have a fucking death wish. I didn’t like the way she was examining me, as if she could dig past my bullshit, to burrow down into my very core.

I stubbed my cigarette in the ashtray aggressively.

Her head tilted, unperturbed. “You have quite the reputation. I believe in the last ten months, you’ve made no headway with your sentence. Are you fully aware that if you work with us and show signs of rehabilitation, you may be able to re-enter the world again?”

I focused on my fists that rested atop my thighs, if only to prevent them from pounding into her flesh until she was soft, malleable, complete mush.

Dr Chaser stood abruptly, shuffling the two papers that were on her desk (which were fucking blank, I might add). “I won’t waste my time on an unwilling participant.” My teeth ground together as she stared down at me like some almighty fucking saint. “If you do not comply, you will be locked in this shithole forever.”

Sauntering towards the door, her clicking heels mocked me with every step—until my unfiltered wrath spilled over my non-existent threshold.

I lunged, tugging on her loose strands, and slammed her face-first into the wall. Her body jarred from the impact, the vibration ricocheting back into me, her head turned and hair in disarray as she took large, gulping breaths.

Leaning down, I murmured against her ear. “Baby, let me make this loud and clear, ‘cause you obviously didn’t read enough in that file about me. You do not come into my domain and tell me what the fuck has to be done. This is my house, and I’m at the motherfucking top of the food chain. Now, you either tell me why you’re really here and what you want from me, or get the fuck out before you become my next meal.”

She gave a cocky smirk, as if the idea of being my prey wasn’t something she was averse to. I believed I’d misheard when a quiet groan escaped her lips, until her ass pushed back against my rock-hard dick.

I was more than willing to corrupt her flawless soul, blemish her perfect shining beacon of hope and smudge her innocence with my filth.

“Hmm. The Doctor likes the bad boys, huh? Well, if it’s a dirty fuck with a killer you're looking for, babe, I’m more than happy to oblige.”

I loosened a long breath, my lips skimming across her jawline, ready to steal a taste, when a hard elbow pounded into my ribs, sending my lungs heaving.

Before I could react, her tiny form slipped out from beneath me. She twisted in some elaborate formation, toppled my bulk off-balance and slammed my back against the wall, a switchblade digging into my throat for good measure.

A slight bruise was forming on her cheekbone, her hair deranged as I’d ripped out a good chunk in the process. My eyes lasered in on her mouth as she licked a minor cut on her bottom lip.

I thirsted to sink my teeth into her wounded flesh. She was the sexiest being I’d ever encountered—I’d ever felt—with her rounded breasts pushed up against my chest.

Who the hell is she? Not some altruistic doctor, that’s for sure. Not just anyone could take me off guard like that, let alone physically bend me to their will.

She was fast, talented and damn experienced. A great combination for someone that’s dangerous. I could fight and disarm her in a second. Instead, my curiosity was sparked.

“Who are you?” I asked, dropping all pretence.

She leant in slowly, her blade digging deeper into my skin, a trail of blood escaping the incision. “Let’s just say, I can help you escape.”

“There is no escape.”

She pressed closer, her exhale teasing my neck. “We will see.” My heart skipped a beat when her wet tongue flicked out, stealing a taste of my blood. She abruptly pulled away, unlatched the door and made her escape without a backward glance.

I caressed the lingering spot where she’d licked, my fingertips coming away stained bright ruby red.

My cock was strained, my mouth agape, my mind a convoluted mess.

What the fuck just happened?

When I came back to my senses, something hard and small dug into my hip. A swipe card was wedged inside my waistband. Displayed on top was the clear professional picture of a smiling siren with her name printed directly below—Dr Olivia Chaser.

Chapter 4Micah

Ientered the crypt surrounded by skeletons, entrenched within the tombs of the dead. They’ll keep our secrets buried amongst their graves.

Our prisoner’s naked body sagged from his elevated wrists, bare and blistered from the rusted chains. The Ludus Maximus tattoo proudly gleamed on his chest, mocking me with its reflection from the cheap lamps sporadically spaced on the cold stone floor.

Emerson stood in the centre, saturated in blood, a pair of pliers clutched in her delicate hand. She turned at my arrival, hawk eyes zeroing in on my injured face. “What the hell happened?”

I waved her off, not wanting to stain my suit. Blood was a bitch to wash out. “A slight hiccup.”

“I hope he came away worse than you?”

A flash of reminiscence blinked before my eyes: the exact moment I was pinned against the wall. Everything careened downhill from there.

I initially removed my coat to gain a thorough reading of his aura (outside of my siblings, my ability made close proximity uncomfortable, and physical contact virtually abhorrent).

Frighteningly, Psycho’s touch wreaked havoc on my Variant in ways I’d never experienced.

Seeing his vivid blood stain my blade, tracking down his tattooed, pulsing neck…the call was inevitable, the demand so primal I couldn’t resist a taste—even if I was fully aware of the decision.