His Dark Obsession

Chapter 6 – Blood on the Floor

Lily’s POV

THE SOUND hit first.

Not one shot, not two—dozens. Gunfire ripped through the night like the sky itself was splitting open, the staccato echoes bouncing off the compound’s walls. My lungs froze. For a second, I couldn’t even process it. The world was quiet in my head, though the compound had erupted into chaos.

Then the screaming started.

Shouts of men. The deep bellow of Ronan’s orders. Boots pounding the floorboards above me. The sharp whistle of bullets tearing through metal.

And Jeremiah’s voice. Low. Steady. Predatory.

“Stay down.”

I spun, breathless, to see him storming through the corridor—shirt already gone, chest bare and streaked with sweat, with blood smudged along his jaw. His eyes were black with the kind of focus that made him look like he was carved from something feral, inhuman.

“I—”

“I said down, Lily.”

His hand found my shoulder and shoved me hard against the wall, pinning me there just long enough to make sure I felt how solid he was, how unshakable. His eyes scanned past me toward the open hall, where gunfire cracked like fireworks. He didn’t even flinch.

Jeremiah was calm—too calm.

And then he moved.

The knife was in his hand before I’d even seen him draw it, a fluid extension of his arm. He didn’t hesitate when the first intruder burst through the door. No warning, no words—just steel flashing across a throat, spraying the floor red. The man dropped like a sack of bones at my feet.

I gasped, pressing back against the wall. My stomach heaved.

But Jeremiah didn’t even glance at the body. His boots splashed through the blood as he prowled forward, gun drawn now, moving like he’d rehearsed this exact ambush a thousand times in his nightmares.

And maybe he had.

The compound shook. More men. More shouts. Ronan’s crew swarmed like hornets to defend the nest. But it was Jeremiah I couldn’t stop watching—the way he killed without hesitation, every shot clean, every movement efficient, deadly.

He wasn’t just a soldier. He was a weapon.

Another shot cracked too close. The wall splintered near my head.

I ducked with a cry. Jeremiah was there instantly, one hand shoving my head down, the other arm wrapping around me. His chest covered my back, his weight pinning me low against the floor.

The scent of sweat and blood, sharp metal and leather, filled my nose. His voice was a growl in my ear.

“Stay with me, princess. I’ve got you.”

The word—princess—hit differently this time. Not mocking, not sharp. Possessive. Rough. Like he meant it.

Bullets screamed overhead. Jeremiah shifted, his arm still locked around me, his body shielding mine with terrifying certainty. I could feel his heartbeat hammering against my spine, steady, controlled even in the chaos.

“You’re insane,” I gasped, even as I clutched at his arm, nails biting his skin.

“You’re alive.” His mouth brushed my ear, his breath hot. “That’s all that matters.”

Another man rounded the corner. Jeremiah rose in one fluid movement, pulling me with him, pushing me behind a pillar. His gun barked three times. The man collapsed mid-run, blood spraying across the cement floor.

I flinched. Jeremiah didn’t. His hand stayed flat against my stomach, holding me back against the wall, anchoring me in place like I’d bolt if he let go.

“Breathe, Lily.” His lips were near my temple now, his tone dark but grounding. “You’ll pass out if you don’t.”

My chest heaved. His palm pressed firmer, forcing air through me. The intimacy of it—his blood-slick hand splayed across my stomach, his body caging mine—sent a shiver through me I couldn’t explain, not here, not now.

But he felt it. Of course he felt it. Jeremiah was too sharp, too attuned, not to.

His head tilted, his mouth brushing the side of mine—close enough to taste gunpowder on his lips. His voice was a whisper meant only for me.

“Tell me the truth, princess. Does it scare you that I’d kill every one of them before I let a bullet touch you?”

I swallowed hard, trembling against him. My heart said no. My body said no. My mind screamed yes.

And still, I whispered, “Maybe.”

His answering smile was wolfish. “Good.”

The moment shattered with another explosion. The east gate. Ronan’s shout confirmed it. They were breaching.

Jeremiah yanked me tighter. “Move.”

We ran. His grip never loosened, his palm firm around my wrist as if I was something fragile he refused to drop. Bodies littered the halls—some strangers, some familiar. Blood pooled, sticky and dark. The compound I’d known since childhood had turned into a slaughterhouse.

And I couldn’t look away from Jeremiah. The monster. The shield. The man who was both my prison and my protection.

We stumbled into the main hall. Cassian’s men were pouring in through the busted gate, black masks covering their faces. Ronan’s soldiers met them head-on, the clash of steel and gunfire shaking the walls.

Jeremiah pushed me down behind an overturned table. “Stay.”

“I’m not a dog,” I snapped, shaking, voice breaking.

His hand caught my chin, forcing my gaze to his. “No. You’re worse. You don’t listen.”

I tried to shove him back, fury and adrenaline mixing in my veins. “And what are you, Jeremiah? Ronan’s dog? His knife? His killer, covered in blood—”

He snarled, pinning me hard against the table. His hands slammed down beside my hips, caging me in, eyes burning with something I couldn’t name.

“You think I do this for Ronan?” His voice was raw, guttural. “You think I’d bleed like this for him?”

His face was inches from mine, his breath ragged, hot with fury.

“You don’t know a damn thing about what I do for you, Lily. Not a damn thing.”

The words cut deeper than the gunfire.

Before I could respond, he leaned closer, so close our noses brushed. His voice dropped to a whisper that coiled low in my stomach.

“Keep pushing me, princess. Keep testing how far I’ll go to keep you breathing. See what happens.”

My lips parted on a shaky breath. Heat coiled low in my belly, shameful, unwanted, unstoppable. “Maybe I like testing you.”

His growl rumbled against my throat, his mouth hovering just above mine, every inch of his body pressed against me. My fingers curled into his bare arms, digging into blood and muscle, holding him there even as the room burned around us.

“Careful,” he warned, his mouth grazing the corner of mine. “You play with fire, you’ll get burned.”

“Then burn me.” The words slipped out before I could stop them.

His lips almost claimed mine—almost—when the sound ripped through the chaos.

Gunfire. Close. Too close.

The table splintered above us. Jeremiah’s body slammed into mine, forcing me down flat, his chest crushing against my ribs as he shielded me completely. The air left my lungs in a rush, but his weight was safety, was salvation, was everything.

His arms locked around me, iron and unyielding. “I’ve got you. I swear it.”

For the first time in my life, I believed him.

But then I saw it—over his shoulder. Robert.

Standing in the doorway, gun slack at his side, eyes wide with guilt. His lips moved, but I couldn’t hear the words.

It didn’t matter. I knew. He’d done this.

Jeremiah followed my gaze. His eyes narrowed. A promise of violence sparked there, bright and deadly.

The betrayal cut through me like a blade.

Jeremiah lifted me into his arms without hesitation, holding me as if I weighed nothing, his stride fast, determined. Gunfire raged behind us, but all I could feel was the solid thrum of his heart against mine.

And the terror blooming in my chest.

Because somewhere between the blood and the bullets, I realized the truth—

It wasn’t just attraction anymore.

I felt safe with Jeremiah.

And that terrified me more than all the gunfire in the world.