He is still Adrik, but now he’s the version the world fears.
I should be scared of this man. Any sane person would be.
Instead my pulse skips, my stomach twists, and a strange heat spreads through my lower belly. He looks like power in a human body. A man capable of ending anything that threatens what he cares about.
He looks like he would destroy the entire world for me. I see exactly why people would whisper his name with fear. His eyes are darker now. Sharper. Focused in a way that makes the air feel too thin and too thick all at once.
He slips his phone from his pocket, and the movement is so controlled it makes goosebumps rise along my arms. He isn’t pacing. He isn’t shouting. He isn’t even breathing hard.
He is relaxing into whatever shadow is consuming him. And somehow, that terrifies me less than anything my ex ever did.
"You’re very calm," he says quietly.
"Why wouldn’t I be?" I whisper. "I trust you." The words surprise me as much as they do him. But it’s the truth and it feels good to own something real.
His jaw flexes. His eyes narrow like he’s trying to read inside my skull. "You should be scared. When I’m like this, people run. They hide. They beg me not to be their enemy."
"You’re not my enemy." My mouth is dry. My tongue flicks out to wet my lips and I watch his eyes drop to my mouth, and I know if he were to kiss me now. It wouldn’t stop there. I wouldn’t let it.
He blinks once, slow and heavy.
"Jasmine," he says, voice roughening slightly, "you’re looking at me like you want me to devour you."
I swallow hard. "I think I do."
His breath catches. Just barely. Enough that I see the crack in his control.
"You don’t know what I’m going to do to him," he says.
"I’m okay with whatever you do, because I know you’re doing it for me."
His presence wraps around me, dark and consuming, but instead of drowning me, it steadies me.
"You should fear the man I become when someone threatens what’s mine," he murmurs.
I lift my hand to his face, finally touching him properly. "I’m not afraid of you."
He searches my face with eyes that look almost pained, like he can’t understand it, like it shakes something inside him loose.
Silence deepens between us, thick and electric. His hand rises, slow and unsure, fingers hovering just above my cheek like he is afraid of breaking me. Or afraid of breaking himself.
"You want the dark part of me," he whispers.
I breathe out, shaky and honest. "I want every part of you. All of it. Even the part that scares everyone else. Especially that part."
His composure nearly shatters. His eyes close for a brief second, as if he is wrestling with something violent and tender at the same time. When he opens them again, the full force of his obsession is right there on the surface.
And I want it.
He brings his hand to my jaw, fingers trembling slightly with the effort it takes not to pull me against him.
"No one has ever looked at me like this," he says, voice breaking through his restraint.
"How am I looking at you?"
"Like you see what I am," he murmurs, "and you want me anyway."
I place my hand against his chest, feeling the slow, heavy thud of his heart. "You said it yourself. Something inside you recognized something inside me. I think this is it. And I’m not running anymore."
