Furious, strong, kind, hard-hearted—make him forget all about me, make him think of nothing but me; make him more human, make him more wolf; make him love me, make him hate me; run from me, runtome; cover his skin with light, bathe him in darkness…
All the contradictions.
All the powerful possibilities.
His hand clamps around my left wrist, pressing the medallion to his chest. His eyes are no longer a deep night, but hard stone, sharp as flint, dark as titanium.
“Do it!” he roars. “Whatever the fuck you want to do, do it!”
My heart beats more slowly. A cold calm washes over me. My thoughts and impulses settle.
“Whatever I want?” I ask.
“Yes.”
I lean in close to him, tipping my head back and allowing my instincts to take control.
I stop an inch away from his lips.
Make him yours.
He smells like earth. Water on stone. And beneath that, the honeyed scent of forge-fire. The power that was used to change him is in his bones.
This power is pain. There’s no doubt in my mind about that.
But is that all it is?
It carries all of Malak’s evil because it soaked up his emotions for years and years.
Surely, that means there could be a little of me in it now.
I close my eyes and seek the worst of it. An awful darkness filled with screams and torment, but I don’t push it away.
I let it flow.
Through my mind and outward, then inward again. A cycle like water gently swirling around and around until it’s a soft blur.
All the while, Erik stays very still.
When I open my eyes, I find him waiting.
I speak my wants.
“What I want… is your permission to kiss you.”
The slightest crease forms in his forehead, the tiniest purse of his lips, as if my statement has surprised him.
“You have it,” he says.
I reach up on my toes to brush my lips across his. Light at first. Then I follow the curve of his mouth, one corner to the next, nudging kisses as I go, deeper with each press until I fully capture his lips.
When I pull away, I’m breathless.
He’s also breathing hard.
My right hand slips down his cold skin, across his stomach and to his waistband.
“What I want is your permission to undress you,” I say.
