Her eyes drop to my mouth, and my body goes painfully still.
“A bite?”she asks.
“Yes.”
Fear flickers in her gaze, and I step back immediately.But she catches my shirt.
“Don’t run from my fear,” she says.
My hands curl at my sides.“I don’t want to feed it.”
“You don’t.You give it room to breathe.”Her fingers flex in the fabric.“Where?”
The word nearly destroys me.I swallow.“Wherever you choose.It doesn’t need to be your throat.”
Her relief is small.My rage at the creatures who made her throat a place of fear is enormous, but I bury it deep.
“My shoulder?”she asks.
“Anywhere.”
“Does it hurt?”
“Yes.”
She nods once.“Okay.”
“Briana.”
“What?”
“You don’t have to do this tonight.”
“I know.”
“If this is because of tomorrow...”
She cuts me off, “It’s not.”
“If you think being mated will make you safer...”
She laughs.“I don’t.”
“It will make my beast worse if someone touches you.”She needs to know this before she decides.
“I assumed.”
“It will make me more aware of you.Your fear.Your pain.Your pleasure.”My voice breaks on the last word.
Her cheeks flush, and the scent of her changes, and I nearly bite through my tongue.
“Good,” she whispers.
My vision darkens, but not with rage, with restraint.
“Good?”I ask.
She lifts her chin, though her hands tremble slightly.“I don’t want to go into The Marrow House, belonging to fear.I don’t want that collar to be the only thing touching my skin tomorrow.I want...”She inhales.“I want your mark beneath the lie.”
