His eyes return to mine.Brown bleeds slowly back into the black.The first horn retracts beneath his skin.The sound is awful.Wet and sharp.I flinch before I can stop myself.
Knox sees and pain crosses his face.He turns away as the second horn follows.Blood runs down both sides of his forehead now, disappearing into his dark hair.
No one moves until he is fully human-shaped again.Human-shaped.Not human.I know that now in a way I didn’t before.And it doesn’t send me running.Maybe that says something concerning about me.
Aldron steps forward once the pressure in the room eases.His gaze moves from Knox to me, then to the box.
“Krishka,” he says.
“Already working.”
The witch circles the silver collar without touching it.Akasha joins her, golden magic flickering around her fingers.Ari hops onto the bar because, apparently, sitting on furniture properly is against her religion.Malichai stays glued to her side.Cruz steps closer to Knox.
I stay where I am.My legs feel hollow, and my skin feels too tight.Knox’s blood drips onto the floor.
I look at him.“You’re bleeding.”
“It’s nothing.”
My eyes narrow, and his mouth shuts.At least he is learning.
I move behind the bar and grab a clean towel.My hands aren’t steady now.The adrenaline is fading, leaving me shaky and cold.I hate it.I hate that terror waits until after bravery to collect its due.
When I turn back, Knox has not moved.He watches me with the careful stillness of a man trying not to frighten a wild thing.
I almost laugh.Maybe I am the wild thing.Maybe we both are.
I hold up the towel.“Can I?”
His throat works.“Yes.”
I step close.Closer than before.Too close, probably.
His scent wraps around me immediately.Smoke.Leather.Rain-wet earth.Beneath it, blood and heat and beast.My body notices all of it because, apparently, survival has not killed my ability to make terrible decisions.
I reach up slowly.
Knox is tall enough that I have to stretch, and the movement pulls my sweater higher on my thighs.His gaze flicks down, then away so fast I would miss it if I were not watching him.
Heat crawls up my neck.Interesting.And slightly terrifying.But absolutely not the time.
I press the towel gently to his temple.He closes his eyes, just for a second.But I see it, feel it.The way his entire body seems to lean toward the contact while he fights not to move an inch.
A monster with manners.A beast with restraint.A man who thinks wanting is dangerous.Maybe he is right.
“You came back,” I say quietly.
His eyes open.“What?”
“From that.From your beast.Whatever you call it.”I dab blood from his skin.“You came back when I called.”
His gaze holds mine.“You called.”
Two words that hold so much inside them.The towel stills against his temple.A dangerous silence grows between us.Not like before.Not the silence of fear.This one has a pulse.It breathes.It presses against my skin and asks questions I am not ready to answer.
His hand lifts and stops midair.He is asking without words, and my breath catches.I know should step back.But I don’t, instead, I nod.
Knox’s fingers touch my wrist, lightly.So lightly I could pretend it didn’t happen.But I feel it everywhere.His thumb rests over my pulse, not pressing, just there.Warm and rough but so fucking careful.
