Kaya
"He ca for you today," Damien whispers, his grip slipping from my chin, long fingers snaking around my throat as if ready to crush it. "But guess what, doll—he failed. He didn’t find you. And he left."
"I don’t believe you."
Speaking has beco even harder now, my voice scraping out with effort, but I refuse to let Damien poison with lies just to get under my skin. "He... would have sensed ... my scent... he can’t miss it. I am... his mate..."
A dark snarl rumbles from his chest, his hand tightening around my neck, stealing half the air from my lungs. Tears sting at the corners of my eyes, but I don’t break. I keep staring at the blinding screen, drinking in every detail of Magnus’s form as if I’m afraid I’ll lose the mory the mont my consciousness slips away entirely.
I am afraid.
"This room is guarded by a witch’s spell," Damien says, his tone growing louder, sharper—like he wants to hamr each word deep into my brain. "And your scent... have you already forgotten that I can cover your scent with mine? How many tis have I done that in the past? Oh, baby, don’t hurt by pretending you’ve forgotten."
No, I haven’t forgotten. I rember the first ti he pressed that light-blue vial into my hand and forced to drink, masking my scent beneath his cold, mint-tinged veil. I rember the last ti I didn’t drink enough, and Camilla caught lurking in the closet, overhearing her conversation with Damien.
But still... I can’t believe it.If Magnus truly was here... he would have found .
"He would have found ," I say aloud now, nearly choking on each word as my body refuses to obey my control. "He is my mate... He will find ..."
"The mate bond is a very interesting thing, doll." Damien moves behind , his massive fra closing in until I feel trapped in the shadow of his presence.
With unsettling ease, he sets on all fours, his body draping over mine like a living cage. I groan in frustration, straining against the weakness in my limbs, but my body refuses to rebel. My helplessness only draws another low, sinister chuckle from his lips.
"Mates are drawn to each other’s scent," he continues, as though lecturing a slow student. "Once etched into mory, it’s impossible to forget. Every one of us has a scent that’s entirely unique—unmistakable. Especially to our mates."
I bite down on my lower lip, trying to piece together where this is leading. Then I hear a faint pop—like a wine bottle being uncorked in the far corner of the room. A heartbeat later, Damien’s hand appears in front of my lowered face, long fingers wrapped around a small vial filled with crimson liquid.
"Magnus knows your scent. He is drawn to it. But what happens when your scent changes into sothing entirely new? What happens... when your scent just disappears?"
I freeze, my breath catching, eyes widening as a creeping dread takes hold of . The vial vanishes from view, and then his hand brushes through my tangled hair, pushing it aside to expose the back of my neck. His grip tightens suddenly, yanking my head down until I’m forced to bow to his control.
"I put this mark on you nine years ago," he murmurs, his lips ghosting over the crescent-shaped burn scar that still mars my skin. "Back when you promised to be mine forever. And how ironic... the mark remains, but your loyalty is gone."
"You..." I force the words out with great effort, saliva dripping from my lips. "You betrayed ... first..."
Still, Damien doesn’t seem to hear at all. "I can’t force my mark on you, Kaya," he says, his voice calm yet freezing cold, like the edge of a blade at my throat. "But I can do sothing else."
I feel another touch over the scar, and my body responds with a violent shiver, instinctively protesting against whatever it is that Damien intends to do. But not for long.
With a swift, decisive movent, he grabs and drags back against his body, one of his hands locking my wrists behind in an iron grip, the other pressing hard against my throat. His lips brush over the back of my neck again, and his hot breath feels like it might scorch my skin.
"If I bite through your scent glands with that potion in my mouth, I will make mating impossible for you. I will erase your scent completely and replace it with mine," he murmurs darkly. "You will be gone. No other man but will ever feel attracted to you again. No other man will be able to mark you. And Magnus... will never find you, sweetheart. As long as I live, Magnus Reiner will not get you."
"No!"
I don’t know where the strength cos from, but when I scream, the sound is raw, feral—so loud and untad that it crashes through the room like a war cry.
I thrash, I twist, I try to shake him off, to break free, but it’s all in vain—my body refuses to obey . All I can release is this crushing, animalistic wail that bursts from my lungs when I feel the sharp, searing pain of Damien’s fangs tearing into my skin.
"No! Please, no!" I cry, shout, and wail, my voice breaking again and again, but it’s useless.
Damien’s fangs sink so deep into that it feels as if my whole body might rupture beneath the savage force of his bite. Everything hits at once—pain, nausea, heat, terror, despair, and the hollow weight of resignation.
Tears stream down my cheeks, soaking into the sheets as I choke and gasp for air. My tangled hair clings to my lips, my face, my neck. Sweat drenches my skin, plastering my clothes to , dragging back and forth between waves of blistering heat and bone-deep cold.
It feels like dying—again and again—without the rcy of an end.
Until... it finally stops.
I collapse against the sheets, my body limp, emptied of all strength. The back of my neck sears with the sa burning agony I felt the night Damien and I vowed to be bound together forever.
And that is all there is now. No sadness. No sorrow. Not even heartbreak.
Just pain. All-consuming. Everywhere. Pain—nothing but pain.
Reviews
All reviews (0)