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I dealt with every last one of them violently, leaving a message that Nolan Devlin will be reading by sunrise.

But as I stand in the dim light of the entrance, the harsh stench of copper and iron hits my nose. My shirt is saturated with blood—thick, dark stains clinging to the fabric that belong entirely to the men I just put into the ground.

I look down at my red-stained knuckles and flex my fingers, the skin split and bruised. I look like a fucking monster right now. A nightmare out of a horror story.

And the last thing I want is for Alexis to see me like this.

She's upstairs, probably sleeping peacefully in our bed, expecting the man who promised to devour her, not the ruthless butcher who just tore through a warehouse full of enemies.

I creep slowly up the grand staircase, staying near the edges of the steps to keep the wood from creaking under my heavy boots. Each step is calculated, precise. When I reach the top floor, I slip silently into my room, keeping the main lights off. I see her shape on the bed, sleeping.

I head directly toward the bathroom, easing the door shut behind me, and turn on the light. Looking at myself in the mirror, I shake my head at the stark, bloody reflection staring back at me.

Red smears across my throat, crusting under my collar, splatter marks trailing up my jaw. This is me. I can’t be soft. I can’t play at being normal when the world demands I be the devil at the gate. This violence, this blood—this is who I’m meant to be.

The click of the bathroom door swinging open makes me freeze.

Alexis stands in the doorway, rubbing her sleepy eyes, her hair a soft, tousled mess around her shoulders. She's wearing one of my oversized t-shirts, looking ridiculously small and pure against the harsh white tile.

"Why are you sneaking around in the dark?" she asks softly, her voice thick with sleep.

Her gaze drops from my face down to my shirt, taking in the dark, sticky blood soaking through the fabric, the torn knuckles, the sharp smell of copper filling the small room.

I instinctively step back, putting distance between us as I reach for the buttons of my shirt. "You don't need to see me like this, doll. Go back to bed. I'll clean up and join you."

Alexis doesn't move backward. She doesn't flinch or look away. Instead, she takes a quiet step forward, her warm eyes holding mine without a single trace of fear.

"Cain," she says softly, stepping right into my space. "I already know who you are. I've always known."

Before I can peel the bloody fabric away from my skin or tell her to back off, she reaches up, her small hands resting gently against the sides of my neck—unbothered by the red staining my skin.

She tilts her head up and brings her lips to mine, kissing me with a deep, fierce tenderness that strips every ounce of monster right out of my chest before I can even wash the blood away.

The kiss deepens instantly, the copper taste of blood completely fading beneath the heat of her mouth. Whatever control I had left vanishes the second her fingers tangle into the hair at the back of my neck. I wrap my arms around her waist, lifting her effortlessly off her feet and pulling her against my chest as my mouth devours hers, every promise I made to her earlier coming due.

“Alexis…”

“Shhh.” She grabs the hem of her shirt and pulls it over her head, standing naked before me.

“Fuck.” I slide one arm around her waist and pull her toward me, lowering my head to draw one rosy nipple into my mouth. She arches against me, her mouth falling open as a moan escapes.

“Cain.”

Her hand explores my chest, and every touch sets my blood on fire. My patience wears thin, my cock already aching for her as I struggle to hold on to the last thread of control.

Still sucking her nipple, I slide my hand down her body, burying two fingers inside her heat. She gasps my name, and whatever restraint I have left snaps.

I press her gently against the wall, my body close to hers, squashing her breasts against the wall.

“Cain,” she cries my name and in one move I yank my pants down my legs and step out of it impatiently. My hand finds my hard cock and I jerk it once before burying myself inside her.

She arches against me, pressing both palms against the wall as I pound mercilessly into her.

“Fuck, Alexis, you’re perfect. You’re so perfect.”

I wrap one arm around her chest, pulling her back against me, and palming her breasts.

“Cain, Cain,” she whimpers. “Oh, Cain.”