It spilled out of him in waves.
And it tore free when he knew I was in danger.
It’s like I’m seeing a whole different man. Maybe not a different one, but the whole man. Him. He cares about his brothers. Keeps his promises.
I’m theirs.
But I’m also his.
I lean in, pressing my face to his chest and breathe. Darkness, metal, and firelight fill my lungs. I drag my nose over his smooth flesh, all my senses crashing together. My lips brush against a metal chain clinging to his flesh. He stiffens as I press my cheek to his chest, melting into him, but then his hands slip into my hair as mine land on his hard chest. My fingers curl into his skin, nails biting into his skin. That feral thing in me, the one they created, awakens. Maybe she’s been awake this whole time, just waiting, watching.
Seeing him hack that man’s hands off sends a shiver through me.
They did itforme. So full of rage on my behalf.
“How many people have you killed?” I ask.
“Many,” he says. “Enough to ensure god has forever turned his back on me.”
“Is that why your name is Reaper?” I ask.
He exhales slowly. “I earned my name before I went to the school.”
My heart squeezes, imagining a faceless boy with shiny black hair dragging the shadowy outline of death behind him.
I’m aware of what he is. He killed Manuel, who may not have deserved it, but he knew the type of man my father was. Did he know more? Maybe he did. Or maybe my moral compass has become so skewed I’ll forever judge everyone by whether their actions mean they should be sentenced to death.
I killed a man for hurting me. Trying to do worse.
And I don’t feel bad because if he’d do that to me, he’d do it to someone else.
Cora’s face flashes through my mind.
“Did they deserve it?” I ask. “The people you’ve killed?”
He doesn’t answer right away, and when he does, it’s like the words grate out of his throat. “Not all of them. Some I didn’t even have to touch to kill. And some were so deserving of life, it killed a piece of me when they died. But killing isn’t the worst thing I’ve done.”
“What is?” I ask, moving closer to him.
For a minute he just breathes. His chest moves against mine, his fingers making slow circles in my scalp, holding my body to his, like if he can hold me close enough, soothe me, the horror of what I did, what we did and what that man tried to do, will seep out of me and into him.
“Stolen innocence,” he says
“What does that mean?” I ask, aware I’m whispering. I pull back to look up at the dark shadow of his face.
“I’ve taken so much from you,” he says. His grip tightens, and when his forehead drops to mine, I shift closer, dragging my hands along his pecs, faintly aware I’m feeling him, his skin, his heat,him, and drag then down to his sides until I reach his hips. “You’re such beautiful brightness. I didn’t know how much I missed light and laughter until I saw you. I crave it. Your spark. And every time I’m near you, I selfishly leech it from you. Iworry that one day, I’ll take so much from you that you’ll just be darkness inside, like me.”
My fingertips dig into his hip as I exhale, so shocked at his confession that I’m stunned silent.
He combs his fingers through my hair, running them through the strands over and over, and it’s not until I move even closer, my hard nipples peaked under my bra and brushing along his chest, that I feel his thick cock, trapped behind his zipper.
Heat blooms in my belly, and I press my thighs together. “I like your darkness,” I whisper, my fingers slipping into the waistband of his pants. “Maybe it’s the opposite. Maybe I want to be filled with everything you are.”
His chest expands as he heaves out a breath. It fans my face. Then his lips crash onto mine. I angle my head as he cups my jaw, taking my mouth so hungrily, his tongue delving past my lips and moving against mine with a heated desperation, that a moan escapes me. Pain sears through my busted lip, but I tug him closer, the sudden need to wipe away the lingering sensation of the soldiers’ hands coursing through me.
“Fuck me,” I grate against his mouth. “Take what’s yours.”
A grumbling moan leaves him, and he grips my ass, lifting me. I wrap my legs around his waist, my arms around his neck, as he turns. My back hits the wall, and I cling to him as I feel his hand move between us. His beltclinksas it comes undone, and I sink my teeth into the skin on his neck, running my tongue over the flesh. I drag my mouth lower, my tongue traveling over the metal links draped around his throat. Salt and smoky sin flood my tongue. I want to drown in it, to consume him. Own him as much as he owns me. Rip through his flesh and uncover the core of him and drink from his darkness.
