His eyes flick to the glow under her sleeve, then to my grip. And something shifts in his face. Like he feels it too now. The pull.
The tether coils harder, the pressure building beneath my skin. My own pulse thunders back through it—heat, strain, thefierce drive to take her out of this room, away from all of it. But I don’t move. I keep hold, jaw clenched, every muscle wired tight.
I can’t trust what happens if I let go.
The bond pulses hot—too fucking hot—surging between us in a rush that makes my grip tighten. She fights again, twisting her body, breath ragged. I’m not worried about her hurting me. I’m worried I’ll hurt her. Not with fists. With the bond. With the things it wants me to feel. With what it’s trying to become.
It only feeds it more, burning through my veins now, demanding action. I can’t hold it here. Not in front of them. Before I think, my body moves faster than her next breath. I drag her away from her friends, grip firm on her arm.
Mira gasps. Nolan’s chair scrapes hard behind us.
With a snap of my fingers, I create a fang flare that sparks out in front of us, brighter than the light we are leaving behind. She gasps, tugging back. But I’m already moving—through the nearest side passage, feet silent on stone, pulse hammering behind my ribs. She fights me the whole way, yanking against my hold and snarling useless threats at me. The bond feeds on it, drawing tighter with every step.
It’s not until we reach the darkened hall—bare stone, no witnesses, low runes flickering weakly overhead—that I stop. I let the fang flare die, casting us in shadows.
Slowly, I press her back against the wall, one forearm braced beside her head, the other still gripping her arm. Her chest rises and falls fast, her eyes wild, lips parted.
I'm too close. Not close enough.
The bond thrums hard enough to drown out thought—pulse after pulse driving straight through me. And instinct—not thought—wins.
Before I can stop myself, I dip my head, lips brushing her collarbone, and nip her hard enough to get her attention.
A quick, fierce press of teeth. To claim. To make her submit.
The instant it lands—horror crashes through me.
What the fuck am I doing?
I shove off the wall, dragging in a breath that feels too thin. My hands drop away. The bond hums low—still wanting, still restless—but I recoil fast.
She’s staring at me, her face completely shocked and flushed.
And I’d just—shit, I was trying to make her submit.
She shoves off the wall the second my hands are gone.
“You just bit me!”
Her voice echoes down the empty hall—high, breathless, indignant.
“When Tamsin said to be careful of the Fang, I didn’t think she meant you’d actually bite me!”
She’s flushed, eyes blazing, lips parted with outrage, every part of her vibrating through the bond.
I force my face blank.
Don’t speak.
I can’t explain this. Not to her. Not now. The bond hums low—still hungry, still clawing under my skin—but I lock it down, layer after layer of control slamming back into place. I let it take over, and it almost tied her to me permanently.
My father would not be thrilled with that. I meet her eyes, flat and unreadable. And say nothing.
She doesn’t let it drop. Her hands ball into fists at her sides, eyes still blazing. She’s cute when she's angry.
“You—” Her breath catches, wild and uneven. “You can’t just drag me out of there and—and bite me like?—”
She stops herself, color flooding higher.
