Page 112 of Ashen Wings

“I’m not afraid of you,” I breathe.

A frantic pulse booms in my ears, but the thrill of facing this sort of predator isn’t terrifying. No, it’s vicious and unruly, and I’m loving every fucking second of it.

This rage between us is a secret shared between lovers. A death sentence for two.

“You should be.” His midnight eyes simmer to a voidless black and when he glares up at me through thick, furious lashes an ache erupts in my chest. I need this man more than I need air. Right now. For the rest of my feeble existence, I want to call him mine, because I know at my core that I will always be his.

“The difference between us, King Ashborne, is that I might hate the murderer I’ve become, but I’m still fighting. Every fucking bruise and cut and broken bone is one step closer to the life I want, no, the life I deserve. You sit there, holding everyone at arm’s reach, drowning in self-pity, and yet you’ve done nothing to change. You want me to hate you? Well, get used to disappointment, because even with those fangs and claws I can’t. You may be a monster, Jace Ashborne, but so am I. Don’t think for a sec⁠—”

His fingers snap around my throat, cutting my air just enough to blur the edges of my vision.

Frantic fight or flight locks into place, shortly dissolved by something entirely overwhelming—white hot need. My body blazes to life as I balance on the precipice of danger, of death, and total arousal.

A breath passes between us. Then two. Jace drags his tongue over his bottom lip, the predatory glint in his eye sparkling with something uncontained…unhinged. I swallow the knot in my throat. In the presence of death, I refuse to cower.

“There he is,” I whisper, half mad and grinning.

“Don’t say I didn’t warn you,” he growls.

Then his lips crash into mine, like a collision of stars. Heat floods my system, awakened and restless. My mouth matches his pace, frantic and hungry, and unapologetic. He takes every breath, every heartbeat, every godsdamned thought, and devours them whole.

His taste on my teeth is shadow incarnate, rage-fueled and roaring.

“You want to see my darkness, starling?” he whispers, sending a tremor of anticipation straight to my core.

“Yes,” I manage to reply, my breath shallow and strained.

Jace’s shoulders stiffen when I comb my fingers through his hair, pulling his chin back to plunge my tongue between his lips. He lets me explore every inch and sensation and taste of him I can steal.

I’m breathless and panting.

Writhing and reeling.

I clamp down on his lip and draw blood. The copper taste sinks between my thighs with a tension that refuses to be ignored.

Now we’re even, I guess.

The fury between us isn’t spiteful or cruel, but hot and heavy and entirely mutual. Morvayne help me, I’m entirely undone for the man, the monster, the nightmare.

His lips rip from mine, and suddenly he’s across the room. The distance between us is un-fucking-bearable, but there’s a cataclysmic promise in his eye that steals the protest from my tongue.

I draw in a short-lived breath as Jace pulls the laces of his tunic. The cotton drapes open, revealing his steel-cut chest, and the hair dipping beneath his trousers.

My thighs rub together, hungry for any friction. The thin sleep clothes I wear offer little to the imagination, but I don’t dare let my eyes wander from Jace, half afraid he’ll change his mind and bolt for the door.

Every speck of time between us is agony as he slips off the shirt and lets it fall to the floor. “Do you know just how infuriating you are? How mindless I am when I’m near you?”

He drags his thumb across his collar bone, and gods I’d bargain my soul to be that digit. “You want to know my deepest, darkest secrets, Nova Lindwen?”

“Yes.” I brace myself against the headboard.

“When I shifted the first time, I lost control. I lied when I told you I’d dismissed my staff. They fled, but I chased them down and drained every one of them, and I fucking loved it,” he whispers, his shoulders rolling. That should terrify me. It’s alarming that it doesn’t.

“It’s not your fault, Jace. Just as you said, you weren’t in control.”

“Okay, fine. If that doesn’t send you running, starling, how about this…” He starts on his trouser laces.

“After our offering, your scent on my fingers drove me to madness. I hunted you all night, and when I reached your bedchamber door, I pumped myself into fucking oblivion just to stop from breaking down the door and draining you.”