Page 13

I forced my gaze back to his face. His eyes were dark, blazing. And then, slowly, deliberately, he let his fangs show. It was not exaggerated or monstrous, but very real.

My breath caught painfully. “That’s… that’s not possible.”

“Yet here I am,” he said, voice rough. “And here you are. Still in my arms.”

I shoved at him again, weaker this time. “Get away from me.”

Instead, his mouth returned to my neck, just below my ear. When his lips brushed my skin there, sensation flooded me so fiercely it stole my breath. My body reacted like it recognized something my mind refused to accept.

“No,” I whispered, even as my fingers curled into his shirt.

“Yes,” he murmured. “Your body knows. It’s fighting, but it knows.”

I was shaking now, with fear, with anger, with something dangerously close to want. I should hate him, I should scream but instead, I clung to him, caught between fury and need, between everything I believed and everything he made me feel.

And that terrified me more than fangs ever could. When he dipped his head again, the sensation overwhelmed me. My body reacted traitorously, warmth flooding where fear should have been, every instinct turning toward him instead of away. I gasped, fingers clutching his arms.

“Your mind is fighting me,” he murmured. “But you know that you are mine.”

I hated that he was right, and I hated how safe I felt pressed against him. How my world narrowed until it was just his presence, his strength, his impossible calm with me when I knew he could burn the world down for less.

When he finally lifted his head, his eyes searched my face. “You’re not going anywhere,” he said softly. “Not because I won’t let you but because you won’t want to.” I should have told him he was wrong, but my body was still shaking in his arms not just from fear or from anger but from everything. From the way he made my skin hum like it had been reborn, from the way my pulse still answered his even when my head screamed to run, and deep down, somewhere terrifying and new, I knew my life had just split cleanly in two.

Before Viking. And after. That realization was what snapped me back into myself. I shoved against his chest again, harder this time, and to my shock, he let me go. Not far but just enough that I stumbled back a step, breathing hard, heart hammering like I’d just escaped something feral.

“This is insane,” I said, backing away. “You don’t get to decide my life, you don’t get to take me anywhere. You don’t get to…”

I turned and I didn’t think or plan...`I ran. I barely made it two steps. The world tilted violently, my stomach flipping as the ground vanished beneath me. A shout tore from my throat as I was lifted clean off my feet, my body slung over a broad shoulder like I weighed nothing at all.

“What the hell are you doing?” I yelled, pounding uselessly against his back.

“Leaving,” Viking said calmly, like we were discussing the weather.

The club erupted around us, but no one stopped him. No one even tried. His hand locked around my thigh, iron-strong, keeping me pinned as he strode through the crowd and straight out the doors. Cold air hit my face. I twisted, furious. “Put me down! You can’t just kidnap people!”

“You ran,” he replied flatly. “That was your mistake.”

“You’re unbelievable!”

“And you’re mine,” he shot back, temper flashing hot and fast beneath his control. “Which means I don’t let you disappear into the night.”

The car door opened and then closed. I barely registered it before I was inside, hauled in with decisive force. Viking followed immediately, the space suddenly too small, too enclosed, my back pressed to his chest as he settled into the seat with me still half tangled in his arms, on his lap. I thrashed instantly.

“Let me go!” I shouted, fists pounding against his chest, panic and fury blurring together. “You can’t do this! You can’t just take me…”

In the front seat, Draugr climbed in and started the engine without ceremony. He glanced at us in the rearview mirror, one dark brow lifting.

“Well,” he grunted, dry as dust. “That’s one way of doing it.”

Viking ignored him wrapping one arm around me, firm but not crushing, the other bracing against the seat as the car lurched into motion. His body didn’t budge an inch no matter how hard I hit him.

“Enough,” he said quietly but that only made me angrier.

I hit him again, palm stinging as it connected with solid muscle. “I hate you,” I spat. “You’re insane!”

Viking ignored my anger his attention stayed locked on me, jaw tight, arm immovable around my waist as if letting go wasn’t even an option his body recognized. The car pulled away from the curb, the club lights shrinking behind us.

I kept yelling, kept fighting until my voice cracked and my lungs burned.