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A ripping and slicing, a tearing and bleeding.
The grass was real.
The twilight was real.
She
is
real.
Neri crawled into me with the softest whimper.
And the moment we touched, everything gathered, poised, and ignited.
Our skin fired.
Our blood sang.
Our bones merged into one.
My arms snapped around her.
Never again.
Never fucking again would I let her go.
With an aching sob, she burrowed herself into me, not content with how tightly I embraced her, needing more, taking everything. Curling into my lap, her arms wrapped around my shoulders as she tucked her tear-wet face against my neck.
I gasped and shuddered.
I’d never felt anything so good.
So perfect.
So right.
My embrace turned violent. My desperation vicious as I crushed her to me, savage and punishing, feral and fearful.
She hugged me back, trembling with need, punishing both of us, hurting us in so many frantic ways.
“Tell me this is real. Tell me I’m not crazy,” she moaned, pressing a kiss to my throat.
I tried to answer her.
I tried to speak around the river in my soul.
But...for the first time in my life, I lost complete control.
She did to me what that damned electric chair had never achieved.
She broke me.
Spectacularly, totally.
The walls in my mind tumbled.
The chains and locks—hiding all my compartments and neatly stacked boxes of torture, grief, and secrets—snapped and shattered.
