The prey

I never imagined it.

The violin sang its mournful tune, and I swayed to it-not of my own accord, mind you, but because Judas Romanovski, the devil in a three-piece suit, was steering me across the candlelit floor like some twisted waltz master. His palms rested on my waist-shamefully large-and my cheek pressed against his chest. Solid. Warm. Infuriating. I must've been hallucinating. Or drunk. Definitely drunk.

"This feels illegal," I muttered. The words tumbled out, and I didn't even care. Liquid courage for the win. "You're like… evil or something, and here you are, waltzing like some romantic hero in a bad mafia romance novel."

He chuckled. "Evil? Is that what you think of me, ptichka?"

"Oh, don't act innocent. You probably have some villain checklist. What is it? Mysterious past? Check. A suit that screams 'don't trust me'? Double check. Unfairly good cologne? Triple check. And that jawline?" I raised a finger and poked it. "Dangerous. I should sue your genetics."

His chest vibrated with laughter. "You wound me. I'm just a man enjoying a dance with a beautiful woman."

"Bullshit!" I exclaimed, pulling back to glare up at him. "You're Judas Romanovski. You're not good for my heart. Literally or figuratively. You don't even let me talk to my mother."

He tilted his head, an annoyingly amused smirk tugging at his lips. "I didn't stop you, little bird."

I blinked at him in confusion. Was this that easy? All I had to do was ask and not beg on my knees and cry for him to let me talk to my mother. I thought he'd say no, that he'd brush me off like he always did when I tried to talk about my past.

"You… are serious, right?" He didn't respond just tilted his head.

My mouth fell open. "I-thank you." The words tumbled out before I could stop them. I felt a strange mix of gratitude and suspicion knotting in my stomach, but for once, I didn't want to question his motives.

He didn't reply, just watched me with that maddening calm, and the silence pushed me to fill it. "Why did you agree?" He twirled me around and caught me in a way my bbackwas pressed to his chest and his warm breath teased my neck.

"Because you asked."

That didn't feel like the whole truth, but I let it go because right now, I barely could process anything "And what about your family?" I asked hesitantly, qquitebraver cause he wasn't facing me.

His lips against my neck trailed lower and lower until he was practically licking my skin. "You know them already."

I unconsciously leaned back, letting all my weight be cradled into his hold. "Not everyone."

His lips faltered. It was subtle, but it was there, a crack in the armour that made me think I'd stepped somewhere I shouldn't have. My chest tightened as unease crept in.

"Why?" I pressed. "Don't I deserve to know-"

"Zayne," he whispered against my neck.

I froze. "What?"

"His name is Zayne," he repeated, leaning forward slightly and biting my ear lobe. "Is that what you wanted to hear?"

I swallowed, my throat dry. "I know," I admitted quietly. "Krystina told me, but… what happened?"

He turned me in his arms until I was facing him. His cold eyes seemed to pin me down. "Shit happens, ptichka."

I nodded slowly, though the agitation in my chest didn't fade. My heart thudded. And yet, I couldn't shake the feeling that this conversation had opened a door, even if it was only a crack.

He continued swaying me. The smirk that tugged at his lips returned like he knew exactly what he was doing to me.

"You've got that look again, ptichka,"

I blinked. "What look?"

His smirk deepened, his tongue darting out to wet his bottom lip as his eyes dropped to my mouth for the briefest second. "Like you're trying to figure out if you should run or climb into my lap."

Heat exploded in my cheeks, and I quickly averted my eyes. "You're impossible," I muttered.

"But you like it." His voice was velvet, the kind that wrapped around you and refused to let go. "Admit it, little bird. You like the way I get under your skin."

I shook my head, refusing to meet his gaze. "You're delusional."

"Am I?" Judas leaned forward till we were breathing the same air. "Because right now, you're squeezing those thighs together, aren't you?"

I realised he was right. Feeling extremely ashamed and embarrassed, I tried to push him but he caught my wrists in his hand and cupped my arse. "Am I still not good for your heart, ptichka?"

I nodded feeling like if I oopenedmy mouth, I'd surely kiss him.

The bastard chuckled. "How's that?"

"Because-" I waved my hand, my brain scrambling for reasons that made sense. "Because you're too much. Too tall. Too… broad. Too… everything. I mean, look at these cheeks!" I cupped his face with both hands, squishing his cheeks like he was some sort of oversized toddler. "No man should look this good. It's unnatural. Suspicious, even."

His grin only grew wider. "Keep touching me like that, ptichka, and I'll think you're flirting."

I snorted, my hands still on his face. "As if. You're just trying to distract me. Why don't you ever tell me anything? Huh? You're always brooding and mysterious and saying cryptic shit. I'm not a mind reader, Judas. Spit it out."

He pried my hands off his face gently but didn't let them go. Instead, he held them against his chest, his expression softening in a way that made my drunken brain short-circuit. "Some truths, ptichka, aren't meant to be spoken. Not yet. Not to you. But I have my reasons."

"That's just-ugh-such a villain thing to say," I groaned, throwing my head back dramatically. "You and your dark, broody reasons. You're exhausted, you know that? And unfair. Very unfair. This whole… this whole yyourthing-" I gestured vaguely at his entire body. "-is unfair."

He chuckled again, shaking his head. "You're drunk."

"No shit, Romanovski," I quipped. "And whose fault is that, huh? Who poured the wine?"

I did. My sub-consciousness reminded me.

"Come," he rumbled in I seductive manner. "You're too drunk, ptichka. Lemme take you home before you say something you'll regret."

"Oh, I regret nothing!" I declared, pointing a finger at him as he led me toward the door. "Except maybe wearing these heels. And trusting you to dance. You're not supposed to be good at it. It's suspicious."

He didn't say anything, just picked me up in his arms and walked to the waiting car. His driver was already there. I blabbered something as he deposited me in the back seat before climbing himself. The driver started the car and I stole a glance at the man beside me. "You're not Judas, ain't you?"

"You can't decide if you want me to shut up or fuck you senseless."

He arched a dark brow at me, a smirk pulling at the corner of his lips. "Not Judas? Who the fuck else would I be, ptichka?"

I squinted at him, my drunken mind conjuring some ridiculous doubt. "I don't know. Some evil twin? A clone? A demon maybe-"

"A demon?" he cut in, his voice dropping to a sinful growl. His hand reached out, resting on my thigh, fingers curling slightly, heat radiating through the thin fabric. "Fuck, baby girl, you've got no idea how close you are with that one."

My breath hitched, and I froze for a second before trying to wriggle away, only to have him grab my wrist and tug me onto his lap.

"J-Judas!" I yelped, hands splaying on his chest, my heart pounding against my ribcage.

He smirked, his fingers spreading over my hips to keep me pressed against him. "What's wrong, ptichka? Didn't expect me to bite back? Let me tell you something." His lips brushed my ear, voice rough and dripping with heat. "If I were a demon, you'd already be fucking ruined."

I gasped, heat rushing to my cheeks, but he didn't stop. "I'd have you bent over and begging before you even knew what hit you," he murmured, his teeth grazing the shell of my ear. "Every fucking inch of you would know exactly who you belong to."

"Y-you're insane," I stammered, my voice faltering as his hands moved, one sliding up my back, the other creeping dangerously close to the hem of my dress.

"Insane for you," he shot back, his tone wicked. "You drive me fucking crazy, sitting there looking like you're made to be touched. To be fucking devoured."

His hands tightened on my hips, pulling me closer, and I felt the hard, undeniable evidence of his arousal pressing against me. "See what you do to me, baby girl?" he growled, his eyes locking with mine, dark and smouldering. "You make me wanna wreck you in the back of this car."

My mouth opened, a mix of indignation and disbelief on the tip of my tongue, but he cut me off, leaning closer, his lips brushing mine. "But not tonight," he whispered, his voice a dangerous promise. "Not while you're this drunk. When I take you, ptichka, you're going to feel every fucking second of it. You're gonna scream my name so loud, the whole goddamn world will know who you belong to."

I swallowed hard, my thoughts a chaotic mess as he pulled back slightly, his lips quirking into a devilish grin. "So sit still or I swear to God, I'll make the driver pull over and show you exactly what kind of demon you think I am."

I shivered, torn between wanting to slap him and-well, something much more dangerous. "You're the worst," I muttered weakly, my fingers curling into his shirt.

He chuckled, low and rough, his hands squeezing my hips. "And you fucking love it."

Ridiculous man with an equally ludicrously handsome face. So what he was ethereal, did that give him any right to manhandle me this way? But to be honest, I was too drunk on my own to even think straight so I let my head fall against his shoulder and grumbled. "Bastard…" He didn't hear, of course, cause if he had I would be screaming right? So I just closed my eyes and tried to doze off.

The ride home was no better. I sprawled on his lap but sleep was nowhere. But then, my drunken brain had another idea. A terrible idea. I slid closer to him, my hand finding his thigh.

"You're all muscle, huh?" I giggled, squeezing ite.

His jaw tightened, his eyes narrowing as they darted to me. "Ptichka, you're playing a dangerous game."

"Pfft." I waved him off. "You're all talk, Mr. Villain. All cryptic stares and no action."

He leaned closer, his breath brushing against my ear. "Careful or you'll find out just how much action I can give."

I shivered, my fingers pausing mid-squeeze. "That's not fair," I muttered, glaring up at him. "You can't just say stuff like that. You're messing with my drunk brain."

"Good," he said, his voice dripping with amusement. "Maybe it'll teach you not to touch me like that unless you mean it."

I huffed and went back to my dark world.

A hazy warmth wrapped around me, dragging me out of a half-drunken slumber. My thoughts were a mess, floating somewhere between oblivion and reality. My body felt heavy and sluggish, but then-then there was something else. Something wet. Soft. A tongue, trailing a hot path along my skin.

The sensation brought a quiet gasp to my lips, my senses slowly piecing together the puzzle. Lips followed-soft, commanding, and relentless, pressing open-mouthed kisses down my neck, over my collarbone.

Where the hell was I? What was happening?

I cracked my eyes open, the dim light of a room I barely recognized filtering in. My heart stuttered. "J-Judas?" My voice was hoarse, barely audible, but his response came in the form of his teeth grazing my shoulder.

"Hmm, finally awake, ptichka," he murmured against my skin, his voice a sinful growl, rich and teasing. "Took you long enough. Thought I'd have to keep myself entertained all night."

My breath hitched as his lips moved lower, his hands trailing a slow, deliberate path down my sides. His fingers burned against my skin, leaving trails of fire everywhere they touched.

"W-wait," I stammered, my thoughts still too scrambled to catch up with the moment. "What… what are you doing?"

"What does it look like?" he replied, his lips curling into a wicked smile against my stomach. "Enjoying my meal."

It was then I realized his hands were sliding lower, over the curve of my hips, his fingers brushing the bare skin of my thighs. Panic bubbled in my chest, and I quickly grabbed his wrists, stopping him in his tracks.

"Don't," I said, my voice shaky but firm. "I'm… I'm on my period."

For a moment, there was silence. Then he let out a low, rough chuckle, the sound vibrating against my skin.

"And?" His voice dripped with lazy arrogance lasI'd just told him something utterly irrelevant.

"And? It's-it's disgusting!" I stammered, my cheeks flaming hot.

His head lifted, and those piercing eyes pinned me in place. "Disgusting?" he repeated, his tone incredulous. "Fuck no. Nothing about you is disgusting, baby girl. Not a damn thing."

I swallowed hard, trying to form words, but his hands slid free of my grip, his fingers brushing against the sensitive skin of my inner thighs.

"You think a little blood's gonna stop me?" he rasped, his voice dropping to a dangerously low octave. "Fuck, ptichka, you've got no idea what you do to me, do you? You could be a fucking mess, and I'd still want you. Still need you."

My breath hitched as he leaned closer, his lips ghosting over mine. "You think I care? I'd tear through every excuse you've got just to taste you."

I blinked up at him, my head spinning from his words, from the heat of his hands, from the way he looked at me-like I was the only thing in the world that mattered.

"You're insane," I whispered, my voice barely audible.

"No," he growled, his teeth grazing my bottom lip. "I'm fucking obsessed."

The room spun slightly as I giggled against his lips, my hands pushing weakly at his chest. "You're crazy," I murmured, though my words were slurred and lacked any real conviction. "But you're so pretty. Too pretty. It's unfair."

He laughed, low and rough, his voice rumbling against my lips. "I'm pretty, huh? That's a first."

"Mmhm," I hummed, leaning up to press my mouth to his again, soft and clumsy. "Pretty and mean and… and perfect and I hate you for it." My words tumbled out without pause, a messy mix of drunken affection and frustration. "You're bad for my heart, Judas Romanovski. Like a… like a sweet poison, I am attracted to."

"Fuck, you're silly," he muttered, and his lips curled into a soft smirk as he kissed me back, slow but commanding, like he had all the time in the world to ruin me. His hands cupped my face, his thumb brushing over my cheek in a way that made me melt and tremble all at once.

Tears pricked at the corners of my eyes as emotions I couldn't name swirled inside me. "Why are you so… so nice right now?" I whispered, my voice breaking slightly. "You're supposed to be mean and scary, not this. Not this soft."

His gaze softened, though the intensity never left his eyes. "Who said I can't be both, ptichka?" he murmured, his lips ghosting over my forehead before pressing a firm kiss there.

I barely registered him scooping me up in his arms until I felt the warmth of his chest against me. He carried me like I weighed nothing, his movements careful but purposeful. "You're bossy," I muttered, my head resting against his shoulder.

"Damnrighth, t I am," his tongue lept on my heated skin. "And you love it."

I giggled again, nuzzling into him as he set me down on the edge of the bed. My head swam as he knelt in front of me, his hands gently brushing against my arms. "Let's get you out of these, yeah?" he said softly, his fingers finding the hem of my dress.

My cheeks flushed, and I blinked at him. "You're stripping me, Mr. Romanovski?"

"Relax, Ms Rosewood," he teased, smirking as he pulled the dress over my head. "I've seen it all before. Just getting you comfortable."

His hands were steady, his touch warm as he removed each piece of clothing with care I didn't expect from someone so intimidating. When I was down to just his oversized shirt, he pulled me into his lap, wrapping his arms around me like a shield.

"You're so warm," I mumbled, my fingers curling into his shirt.

He pressed his lips to my neck, his breath hot against my skin. "And you're too fucking tempting," he growled softly, his voice sending shivers down my spine. His kisses turned hungry, his teeth grazing my skin as if he couldn't get enough.

"Judas," I whispered my voice a mix of surprise and something else-something I couldn't name.

"Shh," he murmured, his lips trailing up to my ear. "Just let me do it for you, ptichka."

He whispered something then, low and rough, the foreign words slipping from his lips like a secret meant only for me. "Ya tebya lyublyu."

(I love you.)

I blinked, my fingers curling into his hair. "What… what did you say?"

He pulled back just enough to meet my gaze, his lips quirking into the faintest smile. "Doesn't matter. Just know it's true."

Tears stung my eyes again, and I let out a shaky laugh, my forehead pressing to his. "You're unbearable, you know that?"

"So are you," he muttered, pulling me tighter against him. His lips found mine again, softer this time, as the warmth of his embrace pulled me into a darkness that felt safe. Peaceful. Like falling into the unknown and not being afraid of what was waiting at the bottom.