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Friends.
Who is it?
Who am I?
“Can we even do that? Can we get him back from this?”
There’s a short, deep laugh. “We’ve been stuck with the shadows our whole lives. I don’t see a way out of this for him.”
“There has to be…” A pause.
I snarl and lunge, trying to reach them. I want meat in my teeth. I want flesh. I want blood.
This time, they don’t react. The small one continues talking. “You know, he told me once that when he’s around me, I help the pain go away. Maybe if I could just get close to him… Maybe the bond will—”
She stops talking abruptly.
The bond will...
The bond.
Those words are strangely familiar. What do they mean?
It doesn’t matter. Destroy.
Pulling hard against the chains, I rattle the pipes overhead and roar my fury.
The tall figure with dark hair and a hard expression shakes his head. “No way. There’s not a chance in fucking hell I’m letting you near him when he’s like this.”
“But if there’s a chance—”
“No.”
Yes, come closer. Let me eat you.
I can imagine the meat ripping between my teeth. Like a deer in the forest, blood cooling on my tongue after the life leaves its eyes...
“You can’t stop me.”
“You’re out of your fucking mind if you think I won’t chain you to the washing machine.”
“Kian,” the other man warns, running a hand over his short, tightly curled dark hair.
Kian.
That name.
I know that name.
But the knowledge of what it means is just out of reach. Frustrated, I growl and throw myself against the chains again. The pipes move, jarred loose from their brackets, but they don’t give.
There’s a scuffle, and I whip my head up to see the lithe dark-haired woman shove the taller man away.
“Fuck off,” she snaps. “This isn’t a fucking dictatorship, hard as that might be for you to believe. You can’t tell me what to do.”
The woman comes toward me, moving slowly. The other two men attempt to grab her again, but she slaps their hands away and gives them a glare that sends a burst of adrenaline surging through me.
Violence.
Anger.
I want it all.
Give it to me.
I pull against my bonds, my arms stretched behind my body as the chains hold them tight, my chest and head straining forward as my feet brace against the floor. I want to reach her. I can imagine her skin tearing between my teeth. The shadows scream for her blood.
“Frost, it’s me,” she says softly, stopping only inches away. “It’s Amora.”
I can’t understand her. Do I even know this language? All I know is shadows. Darkness. Agony.
She tentatively holds out her hand, keeping it just out of my reach.
I eye her fingers, confused by a sudden stirring of emotions beneath the shadows. Affection? What is that?
A memory flashes over me.
Those fingertips.
My skin.
Pleasure.
I stop straining against the chains and lift my gaze to meet hers.
Kill.
Maim.
Destroy.
No…
She isn’t the enemy.
