He is like fucking stone!
No. More than stone. An impenetrable, unyielding force of fucking nature. A mountain, while I am a mere leaf on the wind.
“You smell sorich,” he moans, sounding as though he just came in his fucking pants.
He leans towards my chest. A long, stiff, icy tongue slides between my breasts, and he groans as he uses his knees to force my legs apart.
“Get the fuck off me!” I scream, sending saliva spitting across his face.
The nightwalker stares at me without blinking. I use the heels of my feet to push myself up, but the silken bedsheets offer little grip, and I slip as if I were thatthirteen-year-old girl who danced ballet on tiles instead of sprung hardwood.
Jax told me to do nothing, but I cannot. I would rather fucking have my neck snapped by this nightwalker than be defiled again.
Dark eyes suddenly lift from my neck to meet my gaze. Whatever defiance I possessed is paralysed. My body is firmly pinned to the bed, and the determination of a moment ago is completely numbed.
He smirks cruelly, wrinkles overlapping as he savours my inability to summon any strength.
“You’re a fighter.” His tongue traces a vile line along my tightly clamped lips. “I haven’t had a fighter in a while. The last one thought willing sex would keep her alive. Silly little human.” He shifts to grasp my hands in one of his. “And the one before said he would become my personal Feeder if I let him live, but I know this place well enough to know they won’t let any of you go.”
My jaw locks as the nightwalker pushes his tongue between my lips and along my clenched teeth.
When I seethe, he grinds his hips against me and laughs at my defiance.
“Can I tell you something?” He moves his hand between us. A tear slips from the corner of my eye as another button pops from the dress. “Nightwalkerscan’tfuck unless we’re drinking the blood of a human.” The sound of a zipper prickles my ears. “You see, your blood excites us. Nightwalkers crave it—long for it—as it’s the only time we truly feelalive.”
This creature believes I am wholly human. Either thereis no intelligent life in his head, or my glamour is stronger than I thought.
The nightwalker roughly lifts my gown and yanks down my underwear. With a swift tug, he snaps the threads until they break. Afterwards, he leans towards my neck and breathes in deeply. “Hellsgate, your blood smells sweeter than the others. A fine,richwine.”
A tongue as cold and violent as a blade prises my lips apart. As he deepens the kiss and his eyes fall shut, I clamp downhard.
Rotten, rusty blood fills my mouth as my fangs pierce him so fucking thoroughly that when he pulls away, a piece of his tongue remains in my mouth. Blood trickles down his jaw, and as he stares in bewilderment at the sludge pooling in his hands, the nightwalker becomes little more than a weak man.
With all my strength, I haul my body over and off the bed, landing on black tiles splashed with sticky red. Spitting out his tongue, I push up from the ground and turn towards the door, when an icy hand grabs my ankle and drags me back. Slamming back to the ground on my stomach, I claw at the tiles, my fingers scraping and finding purchase in a groove, only to slip as I’m dragged backwards.
He fists my hair and pulls me to my knees. A forceful hand lifts my gown while the other bends my head so far to the right that it cracks as he exposes my neck. My eyes widen, and my breath becomes rapid as his fangs inch closer to my skin, about to pierce the black ink of my tattoo and flesh.
I let out a guttural scream before falling forward andlanding on my hands and knees. An icy shiver courses through my body, and the curtain of hair veiling my face as tears fall reminds me that I still possess parts of myself, that I can survive this.
He is no longer touching me. Only an eerie silence remains, occasionally broken by the faint sound of my tears hitting the tiles. The nightwalker is toying with me. It’s what they do. Soulless monsters that play with their food. Taking pleasure in screams, only to leave us gasping when the blood flows as they siphon our lives away.
To him, I am simply something that bleeds.
With my eyes screwed shut, I press my fingers into the tiles until they start to tingle. I want to rise and stand against my enemy, but my body protests, my joints immobile.
Fuck. Why aren’t my powers?—
A foreign warmth presses against my shoulders. Opening my eyes, I touch the warmth, and my fingers curl around silk. With it, courage flows through me, allowing me to turn my head.
A headless body lies near my tucked feet, age melting the remains. The nightwalker’s head is a few feet away, and flakes of ash from decaying bones peel away from his shocked expression.
It mirrors mine.
My gaze shifts to the bed. Blood trickles down the silk, pooling on the tiles below. Against the edge of the bed, shadows peel away from the flickering red light. From the depths of the darkness, vibrant red eyes watch me with intense focus.
Who the fuck is this?
“Are you wounded?” the darkness inquires. His voice is low and gravelly. Alluring. He must be a nightwalker, as I immediately feel a pull that makes me want tolovehim.
