Holy. Fucking. Shit.
Then he moves.
I flinch hard, eyes squeezing shut, every muscle braced for impact.
But nothing happens.
Only his breath, heavy, ragged, almost feral. Low grunts, soft snarls. He’s there, right in front ofme, but I’m too scared to open my eyes.
My heart slams against my ribs, every breath too sharp, too shallow, waiting for him to—
“Mon âme.”
Soft. Thick. Darkness woven through every syllable, so heavy I can barely grasp the words.
My own darkness shivers, finally curling around me.
“Is this a dream?” he murmurs.
No. No, it isn’t.
Because when I force my eyes open, the sight before me is more terrifying than any nightmare.
I tilt my head up.
Up.
Up again.
And there he is—staring down at me.
Panting. Bloody. Wild. Chains rattling with every breath. His eyes two pools of black, no light left.
And then he falls.
With a heavy, echoing thud, he drops to his knees before me. Head bowed low.
He’s kneeling.
“I betrayed your trust,” he grits out. Every word is dragged from him, as if each syllable is a fragment of glass tearing a deeper wound. “I betrayed you.”
He stares at the ground. “I am sorry. So sorry. You deserve more.”
Lower and lower he goes, sliding his bloodied hands across the floor until his fingertips almost graze my feet.
And my darkness sings. Savouring it all.Devouring the sight of this powerful being surrendering to us.
Cherishes it. Marks him as ours.
He is worthy.
“You must leave,”he says, voice seeping into my mind.
And it’s that, his internal voice, that lights the fire, burning away all my unnecessary fear, igniting my darkness into full, vicious force.
“Please, leave me—”
“No,” I say, stern. Defiant.
