“All my life, I battled with the knowledge I was twisted… fucked up to want something so deliciously dark—wrong on so many levels. But then slave fifty-eight entered my world. Hissing, fighting, with a core of iron, she showed me an existence where two wrongs make a right.”

Tess is Q’s completely. Q is Tess’s irrevocably. But now, they must learn the boundaries of their unconventional relationship, while Tess seeks vengeance on the men who sold her. Q made a blood-oath to deliver their corpses at Tess’s feet, and that’s just what he’ll do.

He may be a monster, but he’s Tess’s monster.

Q moved suddenly, pushing off from the cage and striding toward the entrance of the aviary. He unlocked the deadbolt and entered the space. Birds chirped louder as Q stood in the centre of their world. He looked like a man robbed of his own wings. A fallen angel that had no place on earth and fought a daily battle to fit in.

I stepped forward. Should I say something? Comfort him? My heart twisted, needing to be there for him, but no longer able to. No matter how many kind words I spoke, Q would see I no longer lived inside.

My soul jangled with chains and locks, saving me but also ruining me. The longer I lived in my tower the more passion and connection faded.

I hated the numbing virus inside, spreading slowly, deleting all memory of who Tess had been. I was replaced with a carbon replica who would float away in the wind, robbed of her convictions and thoughts. All because I wasn’t strong enough to face what I’d done.

Q cursed under his breath, his chest pumping with emotion. “Why should I keep you when you don’t want to be here? You’re not here for me. You’re here because I lock you up. You’re my prisoners, my captives, my trophies.”

He hung his head before waving his arms. “Allez vous-en. Je ne veux plus de vous. Elle ne veut plus de plus alors ça sert à quoi, putain? ” Fly away. I no longer want you. She no longer wants me, so what’s the fucking point?

The birds went crazy, darting left and right, spying freedom through the open door. They exploded through the exit and into the conservatory, weaving through plants and water features.

Wings rustled as I ducked from a small flock of robins.

“Get out!” Q yelled; the birds flurried harder. “Get far away from me.”

I stepped backward, not wanting to see Q breakdown. I wanted it to hurt—to kill me with knowledge that I’d ripped out his heart—but all I felt was emptiness.

Q looked up and froze.

His eyes locked on mine, shining with rage and blackness. I prayed for some awakening, so I could put both of us out of our misery. I wanted to bring forth all my love for him and keep hiding from my guilt. I wanted to erase the darkness, the lostness and hate from his eyes, but I was useless.

Bowing my head, I dropped my gaze.

Q cursed, exiting the aviary, humming with anger and rage. He stalked toward me, stopping so close his body heat seared my skin.

I flinched, expecting him to lash out—to grab my hair, slap me—something to wake me up.

When he didn’t touch me, I looked up. Q murmured, “So low you must think of me.” He captured a curl, running it gently through his fingertips. “Fly away, esclave, if that is what you want. I won’t stop you.” His tone was bleak and derelict.

Pepper Winters wears many roles. Some of them include writer, reader, sometimes wife. She loves dark, taboo stories that twist with your head. The more tortured the hero the better and she constantly thinks up ways to break and fix her characters. Oh, and sex… her books have sex.

She loves to travel and has an amazing, fabulous hubby (who speaks French—hot!) who puts up with her love affair with her book boyfriends. She loves to hear from her readers so hit her up at pepperwinters@gmail.com

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