The shadows around me twitch.
“No one’s ever stood with me in this,” he murmurs, his voice thick with something ancient. “Not really. But you could, Aurora. I’d raze this pitiable, ill-starred world with you, hand you the match to burn the rest down, then fuck you in the ashes.”
Shadowy tendrils coil tighter, vibrating with something dark and primal.
They’re waiting. Eager for the hunt, for the violence. For me.
“I want to tear my prey apart, bathe in their blood, then take you while I sink my teeth into your pretty little throat. You’ll come with my shadows on your skin and my name in yourmouth. Milking me dry. Salt and clover coating your tongue. And when it’s over?”
He leans in, razor-sharp teeth at my neck.
“We do it again.”
Pleasure rips through me, leaving only inky darkness in its wake. Ezra groans, hips stuttering, and spills into me as he drops onto my back, possessive even in the aftermath.
His shadows slip away from my wrists as he strokes my arms gently, working away the stiffness with warm, grounding touches.
“Are you well, Aurora?” he whispers. “It wasn’t … too much for you?”
Ezra’s voice is full of concern as he pulls me up, then wraps my robe around me. His cum coats my thighs and I swear some twisted part of me purrs.
It contradicts every feminist belief I hold, but the ancient, instinctive part of me—the one that knows power the second it touches my skin—wants more.
“All is well, Ezra. Fuck, that was amazing.”
I’m still panting as I wrap my arms around him.
He softly kisses the top of my head and chuckles.
“Ezra?”
“Hm?”
A shadow strokes my throat with eerie patience, like it already knows what I’m about to ask.
“Would you ever consider hunting me?”
Shit, I don’t know why I asked, especially now, while I’m still shaking and raw. But it slips out anyway.
Ezra stills, his gaze sharpening. And for one breathless second, I panic.
Then I see it.
Not just hunger.Pride. He sees the trust beneath the confusion—how much it costs me to ask.
I want this. I want to give him this.
Heat spills through me. Not from shame, but from the terrifying, beautiful truth of it: I feel safest when the monster comes out to play.
“Do you mean …” he breathes, a grin already curling at the corners of his mouth.
“Would you hunt me, Ezra? Chase me through the woods? Pin me down and take me when you catch me?” I hesitate, exhaling sharply. “I know it sounds crazy, especially after everything … but I trust you.”
Ezra groans, like he’s already imagining me on the run.
“Jesus fucking Christ, little vixen,” he growls, shadows curling behind him. “You never stop surprising me, do you? Always dangling new ways to bring me to my knees.” His eyes darken. “Yes, darling. Someday, when you’re ready, I’ll hunt you down like the merciless monster I am. And when I catch you?”
He leans in, his voice sinking into a whispery growl. “I’ll drag you into the dark and fuck the fight out of you. Then I’ll breed that sweet little cunt until you’re leaking down your thighs, so full of me you feel it in your gut.”
