Rising From Ashes: The Betrayed Heiress

into the hallway, instantly blurring her vision. She took one step onto the cold hardw

The muscles in her th

r wet body. Her bare feet sank into the plush wool carpet as she crept toward the li

was visibly mangled. The night wind howled through the wide gap, sending the heavy curtains thrashin

esh, metallic blood, shot out

m, the rough palm clam

el a slight, involuntary tremor of exhaustion vibrating through his muscles. The agonizing pain in his bleeding abdomen clearly made his movements slightly stiff. Yet, survival instinct fueled him. Even with compromised strength, his arms w

die," a man whispered

ain. The sheer ice in his tone sent a violent shiver down her spin

nd of heavy leather boots stomping against the carpet felt like a countdown to an execu

oden door of the suite. Muffled, fo

er back against the cold wall. His dark eyes locked onto h

f her collarbone. Augustus's gaze dropped for a fraction of a second before snapping back up.

ered her instantly, p

ed her mout

red in a low, rushed breath

ached up and violently ripped the collar of his own dark shirt open, exposing a hard

s suddenly clamped down hard on Dorene'

ips. It sounded breathy. It sounded intimate.

heavy silence fell over the hal

y tremble uncontrollably. He deliberately lowered his voice, letting out a deep, heavy groan that dripped with sexual implication. He

er cushions, suffocated by the overwhelming scent of coppe

low, vulgar chuckle. The heavy footsteps slowly retreat

reat w

s's body snapped. His massive weight went entirely dead,

exploded in her chest. She planted both hands on h

the carpet with a heavy thud,

ached out and grabbed the heavy brass ashtray from the coffee table, gripping it so

finally saw his face. It was a face carved with sharp, ag

ept over her defensive posture with zero interest. He looked down at his

ced herself to swallow the bile. Her eyes darted toward the nightst

k half

ed around her ankle like a steel vice. He yanked hard. Dorene

e was weak, but the absolute authority in his tone was t

ed murder flas

creaming in a locked room with a desper

ointed a bloody finger toward the

if he owne

hree agonizing seconds. Finally, under the crushing weight of his stare, she

stic box. She caught her own reflection in the mirror-pale, messy, t

d the first aid kit onto the carpet right in fr

ing alcohol and a roll of gauze. He didn't even blink. He unscrewed the cap and

n. But when she glanced back, she found his dark, piercing eyes locked dead onto