He eyes her lips and leans down. When his gaze flickers up to hers, he murmurs, “Stay very still for me, Starling.” Before Claudia can speak, Dorian presses his mouth to hers, and something deep inside her ignites. It’s as though he’s filling the void inside her that he created when he took a bite of her soul. For the first time since their bargain, she feels whole.
It’s not a kiss—it’s an exchange of power.
But that doesn’t stop her from reaching up to caress his face, or moaning into his mouth.
He catches her wrist. “I told you to stay still.”
“Your power makes me wolfish,” she says, keeping her lips crushed against his. “I can’t help it.”
He growls and uses his power to bind her wrists behind her back. “Then I will make you.”
She fights against it, but every movement makes the bindings tighter. He has her trapped beneath his lips, and once she finally stills, a vision plays across her mind.
From a bird’s-eye view, she sees Dorian, wounded, on his knees in the snowy forest. Black blood spills from a wound on his chest. She sees an ethereal version of herself standing before him, smiling, watching him bleed. Someone else enters the scene—a dark-haired man with his back to her. He takes Claudia’s hand and kisses it. Together, they walk away, leaving Dorian to die alone.
The vision ceases when Dorian pulls back. The bindings fall from her wrists. Her lips are cold as ice. Something feels sticky in her mouth and heavy on her tongue.
Power. More than she’s ever had, and still not enough to satiate her want.
“What was that?”
“My greatest fear. Dying here, watching you walk away with someone else.”
“Dorian…” She reaches up to touch his face, seeing the red wounds wrapped around her wrist from the bindings. “That will never happen. I would never let you die here. Every day, I grow closer to freeing you.”
“I know, Starling.” He places his hand over hers. “I know.”
Looking into his eyes, she bites her bottom lip. She knows that wasn’t a kiss, but part of her wishes it was.
Part of her wants to do it again.
She lets out a breath and refocuses. “Are you sure this will work in the waking world?”
“Yes. Breathe your nightmare into your opponent. Let it chew through his consciousness in search of fear, then let him go once you’ve seen enough.”
This fits perfectly into her existing plan—she was already going to use luxos against Cassius. Now she’ll just take it a bit further and seal it with a kiss.
“This is perfect. I’m going to bring Cassius MacLeod to his knees.”
Dorian stiffens. “MacLeod?”
“Yes,” she says as though it’s a question.
“Stay away from him,” he says, gripping her tightly by the waist.
“Why? What’s wrong?”
“The MacLeods are wicked. You cannot trust him.”
“How do you know?”
“I knew his ancestor during my years at Cygnus. He was vile.His very soul was rotten, and that rot plagues their entire family line. For all we know, he could be the killer you’re running from.”
“But he and Odette were friends. He’s been trying to avenge her.”
“Is he, really? Or is it all an act? Think about it: The MacLeods have been attending Cygnus since its inception. They were there when Sidarphion fell. They were there when the killings started. Murder could be their legacy.”
Her mind races, throat tightens. What could make the MacLeods so murderous?
