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Arousal. Sweet and hot.

My chest heaves as I inhale, my tail whipping behind me. Our prey isn’t running out of blind panic. Every desperate sprint, every stumble, every ragged, shallow breath spilling from his pretty lips is spiked with a frantic surge of desire. The terror is feeding him, twisting inside his blood. It pushes at the length between his thighs until his entire body throbs with a desperate need.

He isn’t running from his ex anymore. I erased that threat entirely. Watching him mindlessly flee in terror clawed at something deep in my ribcage, leaving me with one desperate obsession: shielding him in my shadows. Protecting him. Hiding him from every single bastard who wants to harm him. But as he runs from me now, the intoxicating scent of his arousal gives him away. His body is begging to be caught. Begging for my touch.

A dark, wicked growl tears from my throat, echoing through the trees. The sight of him tearing through the brush, his long brown hair wild, his back arching as he gasps for air, sets fire to every shred of restraint I’ve held for eight agonizing days. He loves the razor-sharp edge of the darkness closing in. He fucking craves the terrifying power of being captured by me.

Inside my chest, the Devil Dog rears back, letting out a psychic howl of pure triumph. He burns for us, the beast roars, its dark energy surging through my veins. Take him. Claim him.

My crimson eyes flare blindingly bright against the gray gloom. My claws lengthen, dragging through the wet bark of a redwood as I leap onto another high branch, matching his frantic pace from above.

I can feel his desperate pulse through the thin, fragile bond that’s forming between us. He’s running until his muscles tremble. Until his lungs burn, driven by the wild, depraved high of knowing I’m close to catching him.

Let him run. Let him fucking scream for breath. Every frantic step he takes brings him deeper into my territory, closer to submission, and closer to that one place he craves to be.

Writhing in my arms.

Chapter eleven

Bellamy

My feet slip on the slick mud, and I crash violently against the moss-covered roots. I scramble back up, ignoring the sharp scrape of bark against my palms and the burning in my lungs. I keep running, tearing through the brush, blind to everything except the desperate need to put distance between myself and the thing chasing me.

Behind me, the low vibration of the forest grows louder. The trees seem to lean inward, whispering in an ancient language I would never understand.

Low redwood branches lash against my skin as I break through the treeline, skidding violently to a halt into the waiting shadows.

My chest heaves as I collide hard with an icy barrier of crackling magic. The estate’s inner boundary line. The translucent ward flares blindingly against my chest, hurling a shockwave of electrical pressure through my ribs and stealing my breath before I can even scream.

I stumble backward, catching myself against an iron gate the shadows kept hidden.

“Fuck.” I’m trapped and cornered. The impenetrable magic wall blocks any path forward.

Before I can catch my breath, a sharp beam of white light cuts through the fog just beyond the iron bars.

“I think I heard someone!”

My blood runs cold. The harsh, familiar voice echoes through the air. Jake.

My blood turns to ice. I snap my head toward the sound, pressing my back flat against the cold iron bars of the gate. Just twenty feet away, through the translucent shimmer of shadows and fog, several figures move among the redwoods. Flashlights sweep back and forth, painting the forest with ribbons of light.

Gregory’s search party is right there. So fucking close I can hear the crunch of gravel beneath their shoes. So close I could practically reach out and touch one of them if the magical wall wasn’t holding them back.

A wave of sickening dread crawls up my throat. If I had broken through the woods just five minutes earlier and somehow passed through the wards, I would’ve run straight into Gregory’s trap. He would have dragged me down the mountain, locked me in an actual cage, and given me to his men. He would have stripped away my sanity until I was a bleeding shell.

Yet, as I stand trapped against the iron gate with my ex’s paid men hunting me just feet away, an entirely different kind of terror takes hold.

A wicked, filthy heat floods my veins.

My breath hitches. It comes in ragged, shallow gasps. My nipples pebble hard against the fabric of my sweater, sensitive to the damp chill of the air. A pulsing ache pools low in my belly, and my cock throbs. Precum soaks through the front of my pants. The terrifying proximity of the men who tried to break me, combined with the demon stalking me, short-circuits every rational thought in my head.

I’m cornered and out in the open. If it weren’t for Vesper’s shadows, they would see me. Reality slices through me; I’m completely at the mercy of a monster.

And to my absolute shame, I am burning up with need.

The shadows behind me thicken, bleeding across the forest floor like spilled ink. The suffocating scent of clove, sea salt, and cedarwood swirls around me in a sensual tease.

I close my eyes, resting my forehead against the cold iron of the gate, shivering as a massive presence settles directly behind my back.