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I don’t know whether to spank her or kiss her. Right now, I wish to do both. My eyes drag down to her ribs, staring at the blood matted to her gown. It's healed, and that truth alone has my hackles lowering as I finally draw in the first deep breath since I left to go after her. Still, I silently promise to make Calloway bleed for daring to touch what’s mine.
Once the protective fog clears, I finally notice what she is actually wearing. Fuck. I slowly prowl around her as her eyes continue to glare daggers into my soul, following my every move. So much creamy skin on display and my eyes eat it up. They roam over every inch, tracking every scar freely showing for anyone to see. She’s wearing her shield of strength—showcasing every battle won—and it’s the most bewitching fucking sight I’ve ever seen. She should know I would willingly fall to my knees for her.
A light chuckle rumbles through my chest at picturing Calloway’s face when she turned the tables on him. “You truly are a vicious, little demon.” Her black scrap of a dress that clings perfectly to her slender frame matches the ink of death that flows through her veins. I once told her she was a princess of the night, but now, she’s a goddess of the night. One who doesn’t hide in the shadows, but rather has them under her spell and brings them to her to do as she wishes.
“You’d do good to remember that the next time you think you can steal me away,” she snipes back. It only makes me chuckle more as I stand in front of her again.
“I will steal you away again, but the question is… What would you do about it?” I say teasingly as my lips slyly tip up on one side.
Her eyes don’t lift in the corners to show any signs of amusement, but instead, they darken more, if that’s even possible.
In the span of half a breath, coils of her shadows dart out to drag one of the cushioned chairs in my room front and center. My brows furrow together as I watch her, and only then do I finally catch the finest glimpse of a toying smirk.
I open my mouth to ask what the hell is going on in her pretty, little head, but before I get the words out, she slams her power into me. Not enough to hurt me, but enough to force me back into the seat, expelling a huff from me. The chair tips backward, but I manage to lean forward to bring it back on its front two legs. Thankful it didn’t snap from the force of my weight.
“You really think you can whisk me away again?” she asks as she stands unnaturally still at the base of my bed before me. With a nod of her head to me, she says, “Try.”
A full smile stretches across my face at the fucking dare because it’s too easy.
But when I go to move towards her, nothing happens. I pause. The smile on my face falls as I look down, and that’s when I finally notice tendrils of her shadows wrapped around my limbs. I didn’t even fucking feel them, but there they are, keeping me locked in place. Keeping me from getting to her.
A demonic laugh scratches up her throat. “Something wrong?”
Every muscle, every tendon tenses under the strain I force upon them to free me from her hold. But it’s fruitless. Even my shadows can’t undo her power as I try to pry hers off me with them.
My head hangs in defeat as my chest threatens to rattle with raw amusement. She fucking has me seated to her will and there’s nothing I can do about it.
“All right, little demon. I’ll play.” My eyes slowly lift to meet hers. “Your move.”
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Emma
Draven sits there, bound, shirtless, and completely at my mercy.
I may be swimming in the depths of this darkness, but I’m not drowning in it. It seems the Masiren was right; I needed to embrace this part of me. The harder I try to fight it and feel disgusted by this power, the more it seeks to claim control. This power fed on my fear, but once the Masiren guided a path for me and I accepted the shadows as mine, there now is no fear for it to feed from.
Draven thinks I’m lost to it, and he should. Fate cursed him to have a mate who has been demanded to lead him to his death. I need to taunt him to act like I’m doing my part for my father, but still keep him at a distance to protect his heart because mine is already shattered. Living each day with a cloud of death that hovers above me to take all those I hold dear. No one needed to tell me that life is unfair, it showed me by shoving me on a path that ends with a cliff, leaving me to stand on the edge and become acquainted with the possibility of death. But this is my ledge that I’m trapped on, not Draven’s.
He looks so good sitting before me. Even with my shadows shackling him to the chair, he still looks relaxed. His ankles are bound to the chair’s legs, but he keeps his knees spread wide as he lounges back. The muscles in his chest and the abs stacked down his stomach ripple with the movement of every breath he takes. Both of his arms are pulled behind him and bound at his wrists, causing the muscles in his arms to involuntarily flex from the lack of mobility.
His eyes remain pinned on me, darkening as they trail a heated gaze down my body. That alone has my thighs squeezing together, along with the palpable blend of pine and maple that is only him swarming around me.
Almost a week has passed since Whiro sent me here, which leaves me at least two more before the full moon to figure out what the hell to do.
A tinge of worry chills down my spine as my thoughts drifting to Aiden possibly opening his mouth and saying what he saw. To speak the secret Draven so carelessly made known—that the dragon bloodline lives on. He seemed speechless in the moment, but once that settles, I don’t know what he will do as a male scorned by the Dark Prince he loathes.
“You should stay away from me,” I say in a single breath. Needing to say it out loud because being in Draven’s court, in his room, brings back memories that have forever imprinted on my soul. And it’s twisting me up inside.
“Never.” He shakes his head with a rough swallow. The cords of his throat that come to a sharp point move in a masculine way that makes me want to lick a path up it.
The warm glow from the fire contrasts the sharp lines of his face, contouring his features to take my breath away. His once-trimmed beard has grown out, and dark circles shadow beneath his eyes. My heart cracks a little more at the sight, as if he’s already suffering before he’s learned of my task. A pang of guilt squeezes my heart from not noticing his exhaustion when I was with him on the ship. I don’t wish this. I want him to flourish, to not worry.
His chest expands fully before he gradually releases it. “I will never stay away from you. From dusk to dawn, from the deepest depths of the sea or the farthest star in the sky, I will be with you, by your side. You will never be alone, not even in death. You have me, always.”
The truth ringing in his words blankets the bond we share with warmth. My teeth gnash together, trying to force my heart to stop skipping, as if it will jump right out of my chest. Words get lodged in my throat with a monsoon of emotions that crash against one another.
And they continue to fail me when I go to open my mouth.
