Axel throws him into the center of the room, and Steven hits the floor hard, coughing and laughing at the same time like pain is something he has learned to enjoy.
“Where is she,” Axel demands.
Steven spits blood onto the floor. “Safe from you.”
The sound Axel makes then is not human.
I grab Steven by the hair and wrench his head back, forcing his gaze up to mine, and I let him see exactly how close to the edge we are, because he needs to understand this before we go any further.
“Where is Bella,” I say, every word deliberate, “and who helped you.”
He grins, teeth red. “You think I did this alone.”
Axel kicks him in the ribs, hard enough that something cracks audibly, and Steven howls, the sound raw and animal, but he does not break, not yet. We do not rush it, because men like him
