Page 21 of A Murderous Omega

“Perfect.” His voice was almost a purr. “I do enjoy a hunt.”

His composure made me want to break it. “Awful confident for someone who needs to drug me to catch me.”

We circled each other on the mats. Emile moved like water—fluid, every gesture purposeful. He was studying me, I realized, learning my movements the way a predator does prey.

It should have scared me.

It made me want to purr and rip his throat out at the same time.

He moved first, a testing jab, almost lazy.

Instead of retreating, I stepped into his space, disrupting his reach advantage, and drove my elbow toward his solar plexus. He blocked smoothly, redirecting my momentum rather than meeting it head-on.

“Good girl,” he murmured.

Fuck this patronizing asshole. I came at him hard. He blocked most of it, that infuriating calm never leaving his face, but he hadn’t planned for how fucking mean I could get when I was pissed off.

I landed a solid kick to his thigh and his eyes flashed with unhinged joy even as he grunted with pain.

“You fight like you’re trying to kill me,” he said softly, the words appreciative rather than censorious.

“Ding ding ding.”

His smile was sharp. “Don’t hold back, little one. Show me what you can do.”

The condescension made me see red.

We traded blows and I stopped thinking tactically, stopped being strategic. I just attacked—brutal, violent, mean.

The fucker laughed, delighted, like I was giving him exactly what he wanted.

He swept his leg under mine, but I rolled with it, and came up already moving. Then I ducked under his guard and wrapped my fingers around his throat.

“There she is,” he murmured, catching my wrist. His pulse was steady under my palm, his breathing controlled. “Our exquisite murderer.”

I used his grip on my wrist to spin, breaking free and getting behind him, then I jumped onto his back, legs around his waist, arm barred across his throat.

“Yield?” I panted against his ear.

He reached back, grabbed my hair, and dropped backward, rolling as we fell, so he’d catch the brunt of it instead of landing on me.

I hated how that bit of consideration warmed my chest, even more than hated how much I enjoyed sparring with him.

He was on his feet in a heartbeat, not even breathing hard. “You’re magnificent when you’re trying to hurt me,” he said as we circled each other.

“Fuck you,” I snarled, upset at how much his praise made me want to curl up against his chest and purr, to tell him I liked his viciousness too, the way he didn’t let me get sloppy, the way he treated me like an equal.

“Is that an offer?” He cocked his head, studying me. “Because the way you fight—mon Dieu. You’re exquisite.”

I couldn’t let him see how much those words affected me, so I attacked again.

“You want an omega you can manipulate,” I snarled, feinting left and striking right. “Someone who needs you.”

“No.” He caught my fist inches from his jaw. “I want you. Exactly as you are.”

“Liar!” I twisted my wrist free and drove my palm toward his nose.

He blocked, but I was already moving, using the momentum to spin and drive my elbow into his ribs.