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“I want to claim you,” Elias says eventually. That’s the first thing that stands out as being worth paying attention to through my daze.
I turn my face to bury against his chest, huffing a short, breathless laugh. “Think you already covered that.”
“Yeah, no kidding,” Caelan comments. At first, I assumed he meant the same as I did, that Elias well and truly fucked me. But then I realize he’s gesturing to something else. My wrist, for example, and a particular spot on my hip.
I raise my arm slightly to look at it, blinking dumbly. My mind still isn’t working enough to process what I see.
There are marks there, like bruises in the distinctive shape of handprints—Elias’ fingers around my wrists where he was pinning me down and where he had been gripping my hips at certain points. But they’re too dark for bruises, almost pure black, and embedded beneath the surface of my skin like a tattoo. His darkness seeped into my veins, and my eyes widen.
“Oh,” I say.
My stomach churns. Itishot. I love being covered in their markings, in bruises and scratches and knife wounds, but this is something different. Something I don’t entirely understand. What even left a mark likethat?Elias’ power? The shadow-like black magic that surrounds him when he lets go. What happens if it’sin me?
“Those will fade,” Elias is quick to reassure me. “It won’t harm you. It is simply… a remnant. Nothing more severe than as if it were a bruise.”
“How…” I start, then have to swallow before I can continue the question. “How long will it last?”
“No more than an hour or two.”
“Okay.” I drag my eyes away from the markings, a little unsettled. I look up at Elias instead and focus on him. He’s been so protective of me so far. He wouldn’t do anything to harm me. I trust him. “You said you wanted to… claim me?”
Elias nods and kisses my forehead. “Caelan has left a permanent mark on you already.”
My breath catches. “And you want to as well.”
He smiles. “How would you like a collar, Shannon?” Elias purrs. He trails his fingers over my throat, and I shiver.
“I’ve noticed you tend to favor choker-style necklaces,” he continues. “I could create a collar for you in a similar style, the same way I created your mask. One that would bind you to me while being subtle enough not to arouse suspicion in your everyday life. Unlike Caelan, I do have some concept of discretion.”
“Hey,” Caelan says. “It’s not like the scar will even be visible where it is. A collar will.”
“A collar doesn’t involve carving my name into her flesh.”
I laugh. “It’s fine. You’re both right. And I… like the sound of a collar.”
Like it is an understatement. The idea thrills me, a symbol of ownership.
Of how I belong to Elias.
That he wants to keep me.
Elias sits against the headboard and scoops me into his lap, letting me lean against him. I start to shiver slightly, the sweat drying on my skin cooling me now the exertion is over, and he pulls the covers up to wrap around my shoulders.
He’s so tender about it now, miles away from the way he was claiming my body. Almost. It’s tender, gentle touches as he grazes his fingers over my collarbones, around my neck, tilting my head back. But there’s still that look in his eyes, the one that says heownsme.
“Do you want this, darling?” he murmurs.
“Yes.”
“You won’t be able to take the collar off. Only I would be able to do that for you.”
I shoot him a smile, then lightly kiss his lips. “I don’t want it off. I want to know I belong to you, always.”
“You really are such a sweet little thing, aren’t you?”
The question is rhetorical. I don’t answer, only sigh and obligingly lift my chin to bare my throat for him. Elias kisses me there, and then I feel the soft, cold static of the darkness he commands as it wraps around my neck. The sensation fades as it solidifies, and I lift my fingers to touch the thin band that remains.
It has the cool smoothness of metal, but the flexibility of leather and fits comfortably snug against my skin. There’s no clasp to it—no beginning and no end.
