Instead, he tilted his head, studying me with sharp, burning eyes.
“Exactly,” he whispered.
“My blood still flows. The fire just gets trapped within,” he murmured. “The insides all function…as if the outside still could. As it is, you’re lucky I’m broken.”
His voice coiled around me like smoke. And then, without warning, he rolled my hips against his abdomen again.
“Do you know how easy it would be,” he said lowly, “to rip the fabric you’re wearing? To hold you in place, stretch you apart like your insolence begs for?”
Every muscle in my body locked.
A wave of heat rippled through me, even as shame rose to meet it. To feel anything from his touch or his words was wrong—completely and undeniably wrong. And yet, the spark was there. I clenched my jaw and held myself still, trying to suffocate the treacherous thrill spreading through my limbs.
He couldn’t feel touch, couldn’t taste or smell…and yet the weight of his attention made me feel more seen than I’d like.
His eyes narrowed. “You try so hard to hide your fear.” he said. “But I already see it.”
His tail pressed firmly against my back, guiding me forward until my face hovered just above his. The closeness rubbed us together—just enough to ignite a deeper panic.
I remained frozen. One wrong move, and this entire moment could shift into something I wasn’t ready to handle.
“What’s wrong, Kitten?” His voice turned mocking. “You usually have so much to say.”
I managed a smirk, though it cost me. “I’m starting to think you’re frustrated you can’t touch me like you want to.”
His jaw clenched, hard. “You think I want you?” he sneered. “The sight of you is repulsive.”
Yet his tail was still wrapped around me, keeping me pinned across his body.
“Good,” I spat. “The feeling’s mutual.”
And I meant it. But I couldn’t resist leaning forward just enough to spit—landing it square on his cheek. It trailed down slowly.
A deep, inhuman sound rumbled from his chest.
“You exist to test me,” he said, his voice distorted with something darker. “Keep showing me your fear…and I will show you what I’m capable of.”
Before I could react, he tossed me upright, seating me on his stomach like a trophy won.
His tail loosened…only to slip under the hem of my shirt. I tensed instantly, breath catching, body refusing to move. He saw it.
Gone was the flirtation. In its place? Dread.
“There it is,” he said with a gleam in his eyes. “Your fear. Not from my strength, not from pain—but from possibility.”
His tail froze at the edge of my skin.
“Terrified I might touch you,” he said, his grin sharp. “I can build that fear into something more…memorable.”
My face burned with embarrassment, but I didn’t speak. My body trembled against my will.
He watched me in disgust. Then, as if repulsed by the reaction, he withdrew the tail.
“I won’t touch what disgusts me,” he said coldly. “Not even with the part of me you loathe the most.”
With a flick of his tail, he lifted me effortlessly into the air and set me on my feet. His back stayed to me as he walked away, saying nothing else.
I could only stare after him, unable to stop my gaze from tracing the vast stretch of his back. For all his cruelty, all the darkness wrapped around him like a second skin—he still looked like a man. Or had been one.
