Chapter 135 Cornered

Chapter 135 Cornered
LYRIANNE

Caleb's friend tugs me toward him sharply. Rage flashes across his eyes as he spits, "Answer me, bitch!"

In response, I try to rip my arm from his grip, but he just tightens his hold on it even more. I'm sure there's already an ugly bruise forming on the spot. 

"You think this is a joke, don't you?" he hisses. "You think Delacourt is going to strut in here and save you again, don't you? Well, even if he does, he's clearly outnumbered, and he just doesn't have that kind of muscle anymore."

Before I can respond, a familiar voice behind him says, "You're right about that, but what about the other Delacourt? Why don't you turn around and say that shit to my face?"

He and I both still. That voice.  I look over the guy's shoulder and see Anselm standing several feet away, flanked by his friends, as usual. This time, though, Electra Ossey and Wendy Plemont are with them as well. 

They're all wearing red vests. 

I see the way his throat bobs as he looks over at Anselm. Bitterly, I can't help but think that he doesn't seem like such a tough guy now, but this thought is quickly drowned out by panic because I'm not in a better position now. 

Anselm is not here to rescue me. In fact, whatever could happen to me could be much worse now. 

“Nothing to say now?” he asks in that cruel voice of his before turning to the others who laugh even though there’s nothing funny about this situation. 

Kiss-asses. 

Looking at him now, I have no idea how he and Lorcan could even be related. Sure, they look a little alike, but Anselm has a nastiness deep inside of him that he can’t hide no matter how hard he tries. 

Even when Lorcan and I had our issues, he didn’t exude the same energy as Anselm. 

Anselm is pure evil. There’s no other way to describe him. 

The guy’s grip lightens around me and he says stiffly, “We don’t want any trouble so we’ll just go, alright?”

“What if I don’t want you to go?”

The tension in the air is thick enough to be cut with a knife. The guy’s throat bobs, and then he puts his hands up. They all look scared.

“Look, man, we’re on the same side here. I heard what you’ve been saying about your brother, and I think the same way.” He gestures at the others. “We all do.”

Anselm’s expression doesn’t change. “And what’s that you’ve been hearing? Why don’t you tell me?”

“Th-That he’s a traitor,” he finally lets out. “He betrayed us because of this halfblood, and he’s not one of us. Not anymore.”

I watch as Anselm sucks in a breath and nods slowly in a scary kind of way. “And you thought it was smart to say that to my face?”

The guy’s eyes widen. “But you just asked—”

Anselm moves so quickly that the guy barely has time to react. He throws a punch at his jaw and I have to duck away so he doesn’t slam right into me. 

He hits the tree instead. 

“You motherfucker,” Anselm spits viciously, pointing a finger right at his face and stabbing it against his forehead. “What gives you the right to talk about my brother in any way? I can say whatever the fuck I want. Repeating that shit to me was plain stupid.” He turns to the others. “All of you feel the same, is that right?”

They immediately deny it and I watch as some of them start backing away like they’re preparing to escape. And that’s exactly what happens. 

Three of them shift, their torn clothes scattering everywhere, and bolt. The two who remain appear to be shaking in their boots. 

Anselm chuckles as he watches them go. “Idiots. Do they really think I won’t remember their faces?”

His attention returns to the guy who’s clutching his jaw, and then he grits out, “Let me make one thing clear: You don’t talk about a Delacourt. Not now and not ever. Besides, my brother could always come around.”

His cruel eyes meet mine then, and he adds, “I’m sure he’ll come around when this bitch is out of the picture.”

Panic washes over me again, but this time, I try my hardest not to let it show. This asshole wants to intimidate me and make me quiver. Does he really expect me to beg? He and I both know that no amount of begging will ever change the facts. 

“Y-Yes,” the guy says as he stands up. “I’m sorry. It won’t happen again.”

“I know it won’t,” he claims. “Now, get the fuck out of here. Don’t look back.”

He and his other friends disappear through the woods and Anselm’s attention is back on me. My heart is racing, but I still try to stay calm.

I’m sure he wants to see tears in my eyes. His sadistic ass would really enjoy that. 

“You always seem to get into trouble, don’t you?” he asks as he steps forward. I ball my hands into fists and prepare myself for the moment when he’ll strike. “You’re just one happy little troublemaker, aren’t you?”

Our bodies are only inches apart now, and the way he’s almost leering at me makes me feel sick to my stomach. His gaze trails down my face, focusing on the curve of my neck before he focuses on my breasts, all while his pupils are dilating. 

What the hell is going on?

“Something’s different about you,” he says, and I already know what he’s going to say next. “You have a scent. I can smell you.”

With no warning at all, he buries his face in my neck. I bring my hands up to shove him off, but it doesn’t work, and what’s worse is that his erection is pressed right against my lower belly. 

Fucking pig. 

“What’s this?” he asks as he fists the hair on the back of my head. He tilts my head back, ignoring my blows. “This doesn’t make any fucking sense, does it? How can a halfblood like you have a scent?”

“Don’t touch me!” I yell, still fighting to put some distance between our bodies. Goddess, he repulses me. 

A slow smile curves his lips, and he shoves me against the tree with no warning at all. Pain explodes in my back and I sink to the ground. 

I think I taste blood in my mouth. 

Squatting inside me, he asks, “Is that better? You know what, halfblood? I have something to confess to you.”

I look up slowly so our gazes lock. Behind him, none of his friends move an inch. 

“Do you know why I fucking hate you so much?” he asks, not waiting for me to answer him. I wouldn’t in any case. 

He says in a voice only loud enough for me to hear, “It’s because once upon a time, I looked at you once and I’ve desired you ever since. You haunt my dreams. My thoughts. Every time I look at you, fucking you is all I can think about.”

His words sicken me. This is the last thing in the world that I ever expected him to say. 

“I want to get you out of my system, halfblood,” he claims, tilting his head to the side. “We both know there’s only one way to do that, don’t we?”

Before I can get a word out, Electra Ossey points at something behind us and asks loudly, “What the fuck is that?”

By the time Anselm turns his attention to whatever she’s pointing at, it’s already too late.