Part of me relaxes as he does so.
He’s not planning on making me do anything I don’t want to. Otherwise, he would have left the gloves on to haul me off to the club like he threatened.
The collar clips around my neck, and his bare hand holds it, melting the clasp shut.
My pulse beats frantic against the cool band.
“You will,” he says. Quiet. Unmoving. Unshakable. “Because you’re dying.” His grip is unyielding.
And he’s not wrong. Something about the ricochet off Mal has thrown the power of my curse...off. It doesn’t even burn the way hunger usually does, sharp and bright and urgent. This is something darker. Deeper. It feels like decay.
Like I’ve poisoned myself.
But I can’t go back. Not afterhim. Not after what we had. I won’t crawl back into bed with strangers. I won’t sink my curse into random bodies just to patch over the hole that keeps ripping open.
I’d rather burn out from the inside than let another stranger touch me again. I’d rather starve than let someone else’s energy fill me.
Talon puts his gloves back on and pulls me out into the night.
Chapter 30
Force Feeding a Hangry Succubus
TALON
The fae leather gloves creak as I drag Aurora by the arm, her shoulder tucked tight against mine. She jerks, but I don’t loosen it.
Aurora’s power has been tainted, and it’s turned on her. She won’t admit it, but I can see it plain as day. The energy around her is tinged with black as if she’s been poisoned by whatever happened in the bar.
It could very well be that Mal was there, but I don’t give a flying fuck about the details right now because the only thing that matters is getting Aurora to feed. Or she’ll die.
She may hate me for this, but that’s a price I’m willing to pay.
We round the corner toward the club again, the street wet with earlier rain. Aurora suddenly bolts—twisting hard, teeth bared, eyes flashing.
I catch the leash mid-whip, the chain clinking taut between us. My boots slide on the slick cobblestone as she spins back, clawing at the clasp at her throat like she can rip it off with sheerwill. Her fingers scrabble, nails scraping skin, frustration carved across her face.
“Let me go,” she mutters under her breath, lips trembling as the lock refuses to budge.
I grip her arm.
“Aura, stop it,” I snap. “You’re acting like a child.”
Her eyes flare, and she tries to pull away, but I tighten my hold.
“I am not. You’re the one who put gloves on just to drag me along,” she hisses. “You’re treating me like some kind of prisoner. Let me go.”
“You think I want this?” I ask. “You think I’m enjoying dragging the woman I love through the streets like this to force her to sleep with someone else?”
“Then let me go,” she bites out, still fighting my grip. “I’m not going to feed anyway.”
I turn on her. “I’m not letting you go, and yes the hell you will.”
“No, I won't,” she shoots back.
A strangled groan of frustration escapes my throat even as I try to suppress it. “You are being such a brat. If you keep this up, I will bend you over and spank you like you deserve. Might knock some damn sense into you.”
Her mouth drops open, eyes sparking outrage. “How can you say that to me?”
