Fuck it, I’m killing him.
She’s fucking mine.
But just as he apparates them away, I manage to grasp a final rational thought, and apparate to the Shadow Realm instead.
“Put. It. On.” I barely manage the words.
Morgana looks resigned as she fastens my collar.
The thing fucking itches.
She stares at me, and I avoid meeting her eyes. But it’s too late. She’s already seen it.
“You got attached.” She says it without judgment, watching me curiously.
I don’t bother responding. I know I’ve been acting strangely. I’ve fucked plenty of women over the centuries, but they’ve never been more than a physical release.
The mortal is different.
Another wave of possessive fury crashes through me, demanding I go back for her.
“You know, we always just assumed the prophecy meant Leon…” Morgana starts.
My eyes snap to hers. “Don’t,” I growl.
The Fates only give nice things to pretty, entitled pricks like Leon.
What could I even give her?
All I have are blood and death.
The dark voice inside me all but purrs, wondering if my little mortal might crave those things too.
Wrong. I was so fucking wrong. I never should have goneback for her.
My body refuses to move, frozen in place outside her classroom. Her scent creeps under the door, thick with arousal, branding itself into my fucking psyche.
Leon’s voice carries through the thin walls.
She’s aroused for him.
Bile rises in my throat. This can’t be happening.
But then I hear it – her soft moan, and the wet, squelching sound as he plunges inside of her.
Violence consumes me, and I reach for the door.
She’s a Council whore. It’s the only explanation that makes sense.
Yet even now, hours after I carried her into the castle, the warmth in my chest refuses to dissipate. It’s been there since she curled up in my arms like a kitten.
Because it’s where she fucking belongs.
No, fuck.
Spy.
Whore.
