“Alex,” I breathe as his teeth catch my lower lip.
He stills completely, pulling back just enough to meet my gaze. “Say it again.” His voice is a rasp, fingers threading deeper into my hair. “The way my name sounds on your lips,” he kisses the edge of my jaw. “No one has ever said it like that.”
I gasp when his hand slips beneath my blouse, my body arching before I can think. My hips roll instinctively, searching, and the rough groan he makes spurs me on. My fingers fumble at hisbuttons, trembling as I work them open, terrified I’ll get it wrong but desperate to feel him. Inch by inch, his chest comes into view: smooth planes of muscle dusted with black hair.
“Dangerous girl,” he murmurs into my mouth, his words roughened with praise that doesn’t feel deserved. I drag my hands lower, tracing every line of his chest, still half in awe that this is real. He answers with his palm sliding higher on my thigh, the brush against lace obscene and thrilling, and I can’t tell if the shiver that tears through me is fear or want.
The need rising in me is relentless, a hunger I’ve never known, and I press closer, chasing friction, losing myself in the heat of his kiss. He doesn’t move with hesitation or gentleness, but with the certainty of someone claiming what’s already his and is ready to burn the world to prove it.
The car jerks to a stop.
I wrench myself back to the seat, breathless, my pulse still pounding in places I don’t want to think about. Alexander looks wrecked—shirt half-open, hair mussed from my hands, that infamous composure blown to hell. His eyes never leave me, even as I straighten my clothes with fingers that won’t stop shaking.
“We should . . .” I gesture weakly toward the looming estate.
“Yes,” he agrees, voice deliciously rough. “Though this isn’t finished.” His thumb brushes over my kiss-swollen lips, and I shiver all over again. “I’m nowhere near done with you yet.”
The door opens and night air rushes in, cool and sobering. But nothing can extinguish the fire we’ve ignited. No rules, no reason, no going back. I’ve spent my life trying to be small enough for people to love.
But with Alexander?
I burn and I don’t want to stop.
The city fractures aroundus in stuttering flashes of neon and shadow, each pulse of light hammering deeper into my skull. Kane’s silhouette stays eerily rigid behind the wheel, his hands white-knuckled against the leather.
“You’re shaking.” His eyes find mine in the rearview mirror. “You sure those healers checked you properly?”
I rest my forehead against the chilled leather seat, fighting to stabilize the world as it lurches sideways. Sweat slicks my hairline, despite the frost settling in my bones. “I’m fine. Just need to lie down for a bit.”
But something’s wrong. The nausea builds, thick and caustic, curling low in my gut and clawing its way up. My ruby pulses against my throat, its usual warmth turning sharp and erratic. The city lights overhead splinter into blinding prisms, each flicker knifing behind my eyes.
Kane keeps checking the mirror, jaw locked. “Dom’s gonna murder me if you drop dead in this car.” He tries to laugh, but it comes out broken. “And I have a lot to live for, so maybe stay conscious, yeah?”
My mouth floods with something vile. I barely manage to turn my head before thick black liquid pours out. It hits the floor with a wet splatter, and the air turns foul with rot and metal.
“Shit.” Panic edges into Kane’s voice. The accelerator kicks harder beneath his foot, and the blur of the city sharpens into streaks of motion. “That’s not normal blood.”
Another jolt, the car veers, nausea spikes, and more of the same bile rises.
“Fuck,” Kane mutters. “Raze would’ve handled this. He always knew what to do.”
“Raze.” The name shreds something in my throat. “Kane, I’m so sorry. If I hadn’t . . . if I hadn’t told him to leave us alone . . .” My chest convulses with grief. Tears burn hot and fast, mixing with blood I can’t seem to stop swallowing. “He’d still be here.”
“Don’t.” Kane’s voice cracks. “This wasn’t on you, Aria.”
But it was. It always is. The magic inside me buckles and flares, lighting up the car’s enchanted panels with erratic sparks. The seat is unyielding beneath me, the world beyond it smudged and unstable.
“Remember,” I rasp, words dragging from my lungs, “how he always said I only brought him coffee to bribe him?” I try to laugh but it comes out wet. “Told me I was a tiny demon, feeding my guard dog.”
Kane tightens his grip again, and there’s something aching in the way he huffs a quiet breath. “You did have a habit of showing up with snacks right before causing absolute chaos.”
“He knew,” I whisper, more blood sliding from my nose. I can’t stop the next laugh. “Every time I brought him those cinnamon rolls from that place in Crown Heights, he’d look at me and go, ‘Alright, who do I need to intimidate today?’”
“To be fair,” Kane mutters, and there’s the faintest spark of amusement beneath the grief, “you had a real gift for pissing off the wrong people. And Raze . . .” His voice thickens. “He had a soft spot for you. You remember that asshole at the summer gala? The one who wouldn’t take no for an answer?”
“Raze didn’t even . . .” My vision blurs with fresh tears. “Didn’t even ask questions. Just saw my face and suddenly the guy was leaving with a broken wrist.” Another wave of black liquid spills past my lips. “He said it was an accident. Said the guy tripped.”
“You had us both wrapped around your finger,” Kane says hoarsely. “Still do. Bringing coffee, asking about our day, actually giving a damn.” He swallows. “Not many people in this world bothered to see us as more than Kian’s attack hounds.”
