Page 29 of Fatality

The hell I am.

“Evren,” Lira purrs, her voice soft and slightly hoarse from screaming my name. “Stay. I'll order food, and we could do it again... please—”

“No.” I shift and sit up, swinging my legs over the edge of the bed as I shove her off. “I came here because I wanted to fuck. I've had a few days that pissed me off. Don't add to it.”

“But you always do this, Evren.” She sits up and crawls behind me, sliding her hand around my chest. “Come on... we could be good together.”

When she clings to me like this, acting like I'll give in every single time, it's getting boring.

“Lira,” I say, my voice dropping into a dangerous growl.

I grab her wrist, pry her hand off me, and turn to face her. My hazel eyes burn brighter with the spike of anger.

“You need to stop.” My voice comes out low and sharp. “You know exactly what I am. I don't do fucking cuddles, relationships, or whatever pathetic, lovey-dovey shit you keep asking me for.”

“If,” I lean closer. “You didn't want to be treated the way I treat you—like someone I fuck and walk away from—then you should've said no.”

Lira's expression crumples before her true self slips through.

A brat.

“You're a monster!” she shouts. “You think you're better than me? You are a Below.” She scoffs. “I'm an Upper, and I always get what I want.”

My eyes harden, I grab her hair and yank it back hard enough to make her cry out.

“Yes,” I snarl. “I'm a Below, and yet your Upper ass lets this Below fuck her whenever he wants—not whenever you want.”

I watch her eyes fill with tears.

She knew what this was from the beginning, I warned her.

“You are my whore.” I pause. “You are nothing else, and you never will be. You fucking know it, Lira. Stop pretending you don't, or I'll rip those injected lips right off your face. Maybe then you'll learn to keep them shut.”

I stay like that for a few seconds.

If she can't handle it, maybe I should stop coming here. But even if it's getting boring, it still feels better to bury myself in a pussy than use my own hand.

I could have anyone else, but she's the one addicted to me, and I like that feeling.

Being the one she needs, the one she won't ignore, the one she can't bring herself to refuse.

I like feeling like a fucking god.

I release her with a shove and straighten up, looming over her.

“Evren...” Her hand reaches for me. “You don't mean—”

My reflex enhancers kick in instantly, and I intercept her wrist before she can touch me.

My fingers close around the delicate bones of her wrist, fragile beneath my grip. I tighten just enough to make them shift against one another.

It would be so fucking easy to squeeze harder and snap it.

In this city, if you've got enough Ghost Credits and know the right people, you can have your body modified in a way the Central Authority doesn’t allow.

Implants, body modifications that make us stronger.

I did it for the races—and to make sure I was never in the position I'd already been in.