“Let me out!” I yell.
I scream again, then, the man, because of course it’s a man, tsks, his tongue clicking against his teeth.
“Ballerina, ballerina…” he drawls. “No need to scream. When the lights go out and this city gets hungry, remember I’m the one who eats in the dark.” A pause. “And I lick before I bite.”
My body shakes. “Jax?”
He chuckles, a dark, warm sound as he moves closer. His hand tightens briefly around my throat and before I can react, his tongue drags slowly across my cheek. A faint, reddish glow bleeds into the darkness in front of me.
“Your… eyes.”
My breath hitches as I realize they’re glowing—not just reflecting, but emitting a deep, unsettling red from within. It’s not human.It’s impossible.My mind scrambles frantically for an explanation that doesn’t exist.
“Oh, right.” He sounds amused. “They do that now. Little gift from our cursed underground friend.” He tilts his head. “You like them?”
“Jax, open the door.”
“Imagine my surprise,” he continues, ignoring me, “when I came here to do business with a supplier and noticed you standing all alone in that corridor like a lost little rabbit.” His mouth brushes my lips. “I don’t like seeing you here, this isn’t a place for good girls Sisk.”
“Let me go or I will scream. You don’t get to talk to me like that anymore. Do you hear me?”
“Is that right?”
“Yes. It’s been years. I’ve moved on. Let me go.”
“Moved on?”
“Yes. I’m engaged.”
That shuts him up.
His hand leaves my neck, but it doesn’t leave my body. It slides slowly down my arm, a trail of heat that makes me tremble. He moves until his fingers brush the ring. I can’t stop the full-body shiver that runs through me and I hate that he can feel it.
The lights flick on, but I swear his other hand was already on my hip, steadying me, holding me in place. It’s dim but enough to sting my eyes after the dark. I blink, trying to focus, trying to ignore the way my whole body is reacting to him.
“Your hair,” he says, his fingers tangling immediately in the dark roots before sliding down the length of it until he reaches the bottom where the color shifts, his fingers stopping there to trace the stark, white ends.
I glare at him, trying to pull away, but his grip on my hip is like iron. “Yes, Jax. I changed my hair. Can you open the fucking door now?”
His gaze drags over me like he’s taking inventory, and unfortunately, my eyes do the same. He’s wearing a black t-shirt that stretches tight across his chest, and I can see the new lines of his muscles. I scan his arms, looking for the familiar tattoos. The thorn vine he had wrapped around his bicep is gone. In its place is a stark, geometric pattern of interlocking lines that looks nothing like anything I’ve seen before. My brain stumbles, trying to make sense of it.Did he just… get it covered? Erased? It makes no sense.My gaze shifts higher. There’s a heavier scruff along his jaw, but the stupid nose ring is still there.
His mouth curves slightly, like he knows exactly what I’m thinking. “You think it’s coincidence,” he asks softly, “fate, or just tar pit magic shit that we keep running into each other like this?”
I already know the answer, which is nothing less than terrifying, but I don’t admit it. “I don’t care what you think it is. My fiancé is probably losing his mind right now, so open the door before I start screaming for help.”
“Go ahead,” he says lightly. “Soundproof room. Who knows what happens in here. Although I can guess. My money’s on shibari, over-the-knee spanking, maybe a bit of primal play. Seems to be the specialty of the house.”
My face flushes hot.Has he… done those things? With who?The thought sends a sick jolt through me.
He steps closer and I step back.
He leans in, his body pressing against mine, trapping me against the door. His voice drops to a low, intimate whisper that sounds like a threat. “Tell me, ballerina, has your polished new life taught you any of those words? Or are you still just my little rabbit, all teeth and no idea what to do when you’re caught? Although, I always did like it when you tried to fight back.”
“I’m not the same girl you knew. I’m engaged. I have a life.” I spit out, trying to sound brave, trying not to let him hear how fast my heart is hammering.
“Is that so?” he teases, his lips brushing the shell of my ear. “You seem pretty much the same to me. All fired up. Ready to bite.”
“And you’re the same asshole,” I gasp, shoving at his chest, but it’s like pushing against a brick wall.
