“Move,” he growls.
“No.” I raise my chin, our mouths so close that the heat of hisbreath ghosts across my lips. “I won’t let you hurt yourself. It wasn’t even you chasing me just now.It was the curse.”
His breath speeds, its harsh scrape cutting apart the silence. His ribs expand and contract, and under that, his heartbeat throbs, tattooing an apology across my palm. But none of it lessens the dark emotions spilling into me. The bitter knowledge staining his blood, his skin, the very air he breathes.
He almost killed me. He’s a danger to the one person he can’t bear to hurt, a threat. Aliability.
The dagger pricks at me, denting my skin. “Move. Your. Hand. This is the only way I can be sure.”
I set my jaw and stare into his face. His beautiful face, the one that somehow holds the power to render me defenseless. But in this, I’ll fight him. I’ll lie here all night, his heart in my hand, if I have to. If that’s what it takes to keep him from hurting himself. “Absolutely not.”
“Sariah.” My name is a growled warning.
“No.”
His desperation ratchets upward, the need to save me pouring through every molecule. It doesn’t matter that the thing he needs to save me from is himself.
“Please,” he murmurs, his voice breaking. “Please.”
I don’t even bother to answer this time. Not with words.
I just cup my other hand around his cheek and let everything in me ride down the bond. The warmth that blooms in my chest every time I look at him. The unbearable lightness that suffuses me when he comes close. The way his scent courses over me, centers me.
The way I trust him not to hurt me. The way I need him to trust it, too.
His brow creases as I inundate him with every soaring feeling that lives inside me.
And…something shifts, the air between us heating a degree. Every line of his body quivers as I skim my hand down his cheek and over his collarbone, my fingernails trailing along his side.
It’s a statement. A claiming. Because this goblin ismine. Death can’t have him.
Not tonight. Hopefully not ever.
He shivers. “Sariah. What’re you doing?”
I let my mouth curve, because he knows what I’m doing. He can feel how my fear alchemizes to something else, how hunger opens a hollow pit inside me. How I tip toward it willingly. How, after last night, I realize exactly what he can do to me, what he wants. How much I want it, too.
“Stop,” he says, his voice rough.
“No.”
“Yes. You’re…” A swallow. “…Distracting me.”
“Good. I don’t want you thinking about hurting yourself. Just think about this.” I punctuate the command with a rake of my fingernails along his bare side. “Think aboutme.”
The dagger wavers, slips. He surges close, his hips finding mine and pressing, something hard and unyielding prodding against my belly.
Heat spirals to life inside me. Desire, yes, but different than last night’s. This is bolder, sharper, a little twisted. Edged with the same wildness etched in every line of his body. It’s a glittering, pulsating force that has me arching my neck and tilting my pelvis.
And at its center lies something unfamiliar—a thrill that zips down my arms and gathers in my fingertips.
Power, I think. The thing I craved in Aethrolia, only now I finally have it, if in a far different form than I expected. Because yes, this goblin could tear me apart. Overpower me with one hand, maybe even a single finger. But he belongs to me, regardless. He agreed to that when I branded him with my initials, and nowIsay whether he lives or dies.
“Drop the knife,” I croon, my hips surging.
He groans, his breath hot against my lips. “Stop,” he bites out, the word laced with desperation.
Our eyes lock as we battle with one another, but I refuse to back down. I can hardly tell what’s happening, how blatant desire can fold me into its grip when I was running for my life just moments ago, but I don’t care. I welcome it, sinking into heat and want and the way my core clenches every time his firmnessprods at me.
