The Devil’s Chaos (The Brotherhood #2)

8. Eight

8

EIGHT

KAI

A flash of lightning illuminated the sky as a storm began to brew overhead. Heavy rain started to fall, drenching everything in its path. But Haven stood there, seemingly unaffected by the deluge, as if she were a creature of the night that belonged in the shadows. I watched her every move, feeling a strange mix of protectiveness and curiosity swirl within me. I stepped out of the shadows, my tall frame casting a long silhouette in the dim, flickering light. The rain continued to pour down around her, the droplets cascading over her ebony hair like liquid silver.

She was beautiful.

The wind whipped around her, tugging at her T-shirt, lifting it, and giving me a peek at those fucking gorgeous legs. She was unfazed by the storm, her gaze fixed to the sky. I didn’t realize I had spoken her name until she spun around, squinting her eyes to peer into the darkness.

I was as still as a rabbit.

She couldn’t see me in the dark.

At least not until a bright flash of lightning lit up the balcony she stood on and the bedroom I had entered.

I made a split decision to go to her, not afraid that she might scream. To the contrary, I loved screamers. Truth be told, I don’t think I thought it out.

I moved toward her.

Each bolt of lightning brought me closer to her.

It wasn’t until I reached the doorway that her eyes widened at the realization that a hooded stranger was rushing toward her, which sent her stepping backward. I tried to reach her before she tripped over the chair. My hands reached out to her even when she tripped, slipping between my fingers and slamming her head into the corner of the patio table.

I rushed to her side, scooping her in my arms, carrying her back to the bedroom. I laid her gently on the comforter and frantically checked for any signs of injury to her head, feeling a pang of guilt for inadvertently causing her harm. The storm raged on outside, the raindrops hammering against the windows like an urgent message trying to break through. She stirred slightly, her eyelids fluttering open to meet mine, revealing the depths of her emerald-green eyes. I expected her to recoil from me in fear, but her confused expression was replaced by recognition.

There was no fear.

There was just a glimmer of understanding in her eyes.

“It’s you ,” she whispered, her voice barely audible over the howling wind. “Why are you in my apartment?”

“I needed to see you.”

“Because of the business with my father?” Her voice held a hint of steel beneath the softness, a subtle warning that she remembered what I’d said in the dressing room.

“Not just because of that,” I replied, my voice low and steady despite the chaos of the storm inside me. I watched as her gaze flickered with a mixture of emotions, uncertain whether she should be afraid or resign herself to whatever fate she thought she deserved.

She sat up slowly, wincing as she touched the tender spot on her head, then turned her attention back to me.

“You could have just knocked on the door, you know,” she said calmly. “Breaking in isn’t exactly the best way to gain someone’s trust.”

I couldn’t help but offer a small, rueful smile at her words. “I suppose I’m not known for making the best decisions regarding certain matters.”

She regarded me momentarily as if trying to decipher what I meant. “I’m not sure what you think I know about my father’s business, but I can tell you that you are playing a dangerous game. One that will put you in a six-foot grave if you’re not careful.”

“I appreciate your concern, but I’m not worried.”

Her eyes narrowed, studying me intently as if searching for any sign of fear or deceit. “Do you even know who my father is? What he and my brother are capable of?” She shook her head with resignation. “Even to their own family?”

I met her gaze directly, “Do you know what I am capable of, little lamb?”

“Little lamb? Why do you call me that?”

“To your family, you are their sacrificial lamb,” I stated casually, as if it were really as simple as that. My words were cold and calculated, hiding the beast inside within me that craved nothing more than to tear her apart.

My favorite.

She flinched at the coldness in my tone. “Go to Hell.”

“I am Hell, little lamb.”

“Stop calling me that!” Her voice rose, her eyes ablaze with fire as she pushed herself off the bed, standing tall despite the unease that danced in her gaze. I could see the internal struggle within her, the desire to stand her ground warring with the uneasiness of confronting a stranger in her own home.

I stood up, moving a step closer, closing the physical distance between us as if drawn by an invisible force as I whispered against her ear. “You can resist all you want, little lamb, but you can’t deny the truth staring you in the face.”

She bristled under my close proximity, her jaw clenched tight, her fists balling to her sides as she glared up at me. “I’m not some helpless victim for you to prey on. I won’t be intimidated by your games.”

I could feel the tension between us, the unspoken challenge hanging heavy like a shroud. But beneath her fa?ade of bravery and strength, a weariness was etched on her face. I admired her spirit and the way she held herself with such resolve.

It only made me want to break her even more. Show her how good it could feel to submit to me. To accept the power I would give her when she was mine. A power she never dreamed of.

“You have no right to barge into my life like this,” she said, her voice steady despite the tremor in her hands. She thought I wouldn’t notice, but I prided myself on being observant—looking for little changes in behavior or gestures that would otherwise go unnoticed by others. So, when her eyes moved to my lips so quickly I almost missed it or the way she bit her lip in hesitation, I knew she was more affected by my presence than she let on.

“Maybe not,” I started, my voice softer now, “but rights mean nothing when fate has already intertwined our paths.”

She scoffed, a bitter smile twisting her lips. “You speak in riddles and cryptic bullshit. What do you want from me?”

I took another step closer, our breaths mingling in the charged space between us. “Answers,” I admitted, my gaze unwavering as it bore into hers. “Answers only you can provide.”

Her eyes searched mine as if seeking some hidden truth buried deep within my soul. “And if I refuse?”

I tilted my head slightly, a smirk playing on my lips. “Then we play a different game, little lamb. A game where the stakes are much higher than you could ever imagine, and there’s no turning back.”

I leaned in closer, the scent of rain and fear surrounding us. “I will get the answers I need,” I whispered, my words hanging in the air like a promise or a threat, depending on how she interpreted them.

She didn’t back down; instead, holding my gaze, she declared, “You don’t scare me.”

“Perhaps I should,” I replied, a warning laced in my words.

But instead of heeding it, she squared her shoulders and met my gaze head-on. “I’ve dealt with worse than you,” she scoffed. “Try me.” Her challenge hung in the air between us, daring me to make a move.

The air crackled between us as we stood locked in a silent battle of wills. I took a step back, breaking the intensity of the moment. “Very well, little lamb,” I said, amusement threading through my voice. “Let the games begin.” I pushed past her and strode toward the front door. I sensed her eyes boring into my back, curiosity mingling with determination. I didn’t expect her to follow me, but when she trailed behind me, her steps hesitant, yet purposeful, I knew we were both determined to outwit the other. Turning to face her, she had a glint of defiance in her eyes that matched my own.

“You don’t get to leave without explaining to me why the hell you broke into my apartment and watched me like some creep.”

“A creep?” I repeated mockingly. My gaze fell on her face, illuminated by the light from the nearby table. And then I saw it—a dark purple bruise decorating her jawline. It stood out starkly against her olive skin, like a sinister painting.

My amusement vanished, replaced by a surge of protectiveness. For a moment, my composure wavered, and the mask of indifference slipped from my face.

She must have noticed the change in my expression because a flicker of uncertainty flashed in her eyes before her defiance returned tenfold, and she steeled herself once more.

“What’s the matter? Don’t tell me you’re feeling guilty now,” she spat, bitterness lacing her words. “You think you’re going to intimidate me?”

I took a deep breath, trying to steady my rage. “Who did this to you?” The words escaped my lips before I could stop them, genuine concern seeping into my tone.

“Did wh—?” Her eyes followed my gaze, and when she realized I was talking about the bruise on her face, her jaw clenched as she averted her gaze. A haunted look passed over her features.

“Who. Did. This. To. You,” I asked, emphasizing each word.

“It doesn’t matter,” she replied curtly, attempting to sidestep the question. She lifted her chin, a boldness to that simple movement. But something in the way she avoided my eyes told me it mattered more than she let on.

Without thinking, I reached out and firmly tilted her chin up, forcing her to look me in the eyes. “Either you tell me who did this to you, or I kill every person that was at the club tonight.” My threat hung heavy in the air between us as she stared back at me with wide green eyes.

“You wouldn’t dare.”

“Try me,” I challenged, meaning every word.

“You’re fucking crazy.” She tried to pull away, but I held her firmly in place.

“You have no idea,” I growled. “Now, tell me.”

The fire in her eyes softened as she seemed to reconsider her earlier bravado.

“I…I don’t know who he is. He’s some friend of Winston Grey.”

“Name,” I demanded sharply.

She hesitated before answering, “Gerald.”

My blood boiled at the mention of that name. “Last name?”

“I don’t know.” Her voice was barely above a whisper now.

It did not matter. I would find him with or without a last name.

I clenched my fists, the need for vengeance gnawing at my very being. “Who else?”

“What do you mean, who else?”

“Who else put their hands on you?”

“No—no one else. Just Gerald.”

“You’re lying,” I accused her, my tone cold and deadly.

“Excuse me?” She tried to pull away from me, but I refused to let go.

“You’re lying to me,” I repeated, staring into her eyes.

She looked at me warily, pain flickering behind her defiance. “Look, I don’t know what you think you know, but I think you should go before it’s too late.”

But it’s already too late for that.

“Apparently, killing every single person at the club isn’t incentive enough for you to tell the truth.”

“You know what, I’m done with this conversation. Maybe I should call my brother and his goons so they can come over here and get rid of you.” She stood straight, turning her head, presumably to make good on her little threat of calling her brother.

But I wasn’t even close to being done with her.

“Or maybe your brother will come over here and slap you around a little bit more,” I snapped.

Her head turned on a swivel to face me as her eyes narrowed, seething. “You know nothing.”

She tried to walk past me, but I grabbed her arm, stopping her. Her skin felt icy, and her muscles tensed beneath my grip.

“I know that the next time your brother puts his hands on you, I’ll rip them off and shove them up his ass.”

“Then you’re dumber than you look,” she scoffed.

The way she insulted me, her pink lips parted just enough to reveal her perfect teeth, only made me want to claim her more.

“Your brother may think he’s the dominant wolf, but let me make something very clear: I am the bigger wolf, and I will tear him apart piece by piece and leave him to rot where no one will ever find him,” I said, my voice low and dangerous.

The fire that had been flickering in her eyes before threatened to engulf her whole being. “Let. Go,” she growled through gritted teeth.

For a moment, we stood there, the tension between us palpable.

“Don’t say I didn’t warn you.” With that, I released her arm and stepped back. I burned her image to mind before turning and walking out the door, pulling it shut behind me.

Outside, the frigid rain hit me like a slap in the face. I attempted to rid myself of the lingering taste of violence and chaos flowing through my body, but who the hell was I kidding? I relished the taste of it, eagerly embracing the darkness that consumed me. The savage devil within me demanded satisfaction, even if it meant leaving a trail of corpses on her doorstep.

She didn’t follow me this time, but I shouted loud enough for her to hear before I disappeared into the hallway. “Make sure to ice that pretty face of yours.”

The drive back to the manor was filled with thoughts of her and her ferocity. Her fiery spirit consumed me. From the moment our eyes met at the club, she was already caught in my web, unable to escape from the predator lurking within me. And she would soon learn that there was no escaping a wolf’s hunger for its prey.

But first, I needed to hunt.