That would be the sweet spot to start the slice.
Noted.
He said something again. I tilted my head and narrowed my eyes like I was trying to make sense of his gibberish. Then, I laughed.
You know that kind that starts in the throat and builds until it snaps the air in half?
I turned my back to him and strolled to my display table like I was walking into an art gallery. I let my fingers dance over everything lined up, until they stopped at the plier.
I lifted it with a grin and spun around.
“This?” I asked, my tone a little too cheerful, and my eyes bright with madness.
“You prefer we start with this before we talk?”
His eyes went wide. His head shook so fast he looked like a broken puppet. Sweat poured.
“Ohhh. You’re delighted?” I replied in a high-pitched voice.
I stepped in closer, crouched beside him like I was trying to share a secret.
‘What part should I cut first? My lips hovered near his ear.
He actually leaned in… He actually whispered something.
I straightened up, nodding seriously like a waiter taking a customer’s order.
“Okay. Noted.”
I turned to my men without breaking stride.
“He wants us to start with his toes. Take off his shoes.”
Nagel and his flocks did what they wanted. It didn’t matter what Kasmine said or did. Now, I only saw and heard what I wanted. It doesn’t matter what they say or do.
My men peeled off Wes’s shoes like they were unwrapping a gift.
His toes twitched – stupid fucking reflex.
The bastard already knew what was coming, and still his body was trying to protect him. How cute.
I slowly crouched again, held his ankle down with one hand, and clicked the plier open with the other.
“You ever had a toe ripped off before?” I asked in an eerily calm voice.
He thrashed violently. The table rattled.
I smirked. “Don’t worry,” I murmured, my fingers wrapping tightly around the second toe on his right foot, ‘I’ll make it memorable.” And then, I pulled.
It wasn’t a clean snap.
Oh, no.
It was the slow tear. The kind that takes the skin first, then the tissue, and then the cartilage, just like peeling an
Wes arched off the table. apple made of screams.
The gag caught the first half of his scream, but the second half thundered through his nose. It was loud, feral, and utterly satisfying.
I held the toe in front of him, blood dripping from the end.
“You think she’d ever be fine when we rescue her?” I asked almost in a child-like tone, narrowing my brows thoughtfully.
He shook his head so hard I thought his neck/might snap.
Too bad I wasn’t finished.
“You liked watching her suffer, didn’t you?” I asked as I gripped the next toe.
“You fucking enjoyed it.”
Crack.
His whole body seized.
Blood smeared the floor. My hands were painted in it.
That smell was copper and fear…
And I was just getting warmed up.
I stood up and walked to the table.
“Oh. Pardon my manners. I didn’t tell you how delighted I am to be in the same room with you and your sins. It’s such an honor, Alpha Wes.”
I picked up the scalpel next.
I wasn’t in a rush. No. This was art.
And art took time.
I ran the blade down the side of his face, just under his eye, enough to draw blood and let it sting.
Then I did it again.
And again.
Until his face looked like a roadmap of every mistake he’d ever made.
“You watched.”
Slash.
“You heard her scream.”
Slash.
“I bet you also got a hard-on.”
Slash.
Oh. And did I mention that my weapons had wolfsbane dripping all over them?
“How are you holding up?” I asked the barely conscious Wes.
By the time I was done, he was soaked in tears and sweat and blood and agony and terror and… Fuck. My whole body trembled with excitement, and my soul thrummed with the need to do more.
His ten toes? Gone.
More Kickass Werewolf Reads
Dive into our collection of free werewolf romance novels—where fierce Alphas, daring heroines, and heart-stopping twists await. Every story burns with forbidden desire, loyalty, and destiny. Don’t wait—here’s a world where love bites hard and nothing is stronger than the call of the mate.
Leave a Reply