Emily
“Go ahead and scream if you’d like,” Baltazar said.
“I won’t scream,” I said through gritted teeth. “I won’t give you the pleasure of it, you evil f*ck!”
One of his arms was wrapped around my waist while the other rubbed my neck. God, his breath was horrible!
“You are quite enticing, human,” he said, chuckling. “How did Tristan like the taste of you?”
“Better than you will,” I said. It was a pathetic comeback, but I couldn’t think straight at the moment. His fingers inched closer and closer; I could feel them sliding through the fabric of my outfit.
“HEY!” someone shouted, and I looked up to see a big man standing in the doorway of the room entrance. Recognition quickly dawned on me, and I saw that it was Gawain, Tristan’s Gamma. He was glaring at Baltazar and held something in his hand, a pistol. His eyes were glowing embers, and he bared his fangs at the Baltazar. The rich f*cker grabbed me by the waist and threw me on the leather chair he was sitting in.