Page 35 of The Secrets of Roan Island

“What kind of game?” I stutter, my heart knocking against my ribs.

“The kind where I get to catch you.” He grins, and that’s when I notice his fangs.

Oh fuck. I thought I felt an extra sharpness when we kissed last night, but I ignored it. I can’t ignore it now.

Before Noah can say another word, I duck under his arm and run, darting from the library, back through the hallway—dark now. And while the dark would normally terrify me, remind me of David, whatever Noah is behind me is much more frightening.

I think back to all the ways Noah has been with me. Every time he insisted I stay in my room. Or the night before:You should walk out into the library and shut that door.AndI want you on that boat. All the ways I thought he was just being authoritative. What if it had nothing to do with control, but rather protection? From him?

I pick up my pace, a dark, sensuous chuckle chasing my footsteps.

My lungs hurt as I lurch with terror. I grab hold of the closest door and try the handle. Locked.

“Ruby,” he says, his voice strange. He’s closer. “I smell your fear.”

“You’re scaring me!” I scream.

“You should be scared.”

I dash up the stairs, tripping and scrambling. My breath catches as I skid around a corner and slam into a side table. It slides across the floor with a loud scrape. I’m almost to the portrait hall, but I freeze. Noah must have heard that.

It’s quiet except for my loud breathing, and the silence is wrong. I don’t hear Noah any more. I grasp at the wall, fingertips slipping along the velvety wallpaper. “Noah?”

I don’t know why I call out to him. Why I’m seeking support from a monster, someone—something—I don’t know.

Except I do know. I read about them last night. The Mavarri. Creatures with fangs, claws, the ability to shift, whose sole source of nutrients came from the blood of their prey. The bite that could change their prey into one of them, under the right circumstances.

“Mavarri,” I whisper.

Noah materializes from the shadows, his dark eyes glittering with something other than reflected light. I should be terrified, but there’s something stunningly beautiful about the power he exudes.

“Such a smart woman.” His nostrils flare as his eyes roll closed. “Do you know what scent I like even more than your fear?” He’s suddenly behind me, pressing me into the table that tripped me moments ago. “Your pleasure.”

One large hand spans my back, pinning my chest to the wood, while the other slides over my backside, gathering a fistful of my skirt. He sniffs, leaning his weight into me, nose skimming the ridge of my ear. “There it is.”

Something sharp grazes the tender skin where my neck and shoulder meet. I shiver from more than fear, a pleasure that prickles from the scratch at my neck all the way down between my legs.

“You make me wild,” he admits with a groan. “Do you know how dangerous it is to make a Mavarri lose control?”

“They aren’t extinct,” I say, more as a breath. And damn me, even as my mind tries to make sense of my situation, I press my hips back and tilt my head to give him access to my neck.

“Close enough to extinct,” he growls, bunching my skirts higher.

“What do you mean?” I twist, trying to look at him, but he holds me in place.

His tongue tastes my neck, and he groans. “Just us now.”

“Us?”

“Me, my siblings, my father. We’re the only ones left here.”

Completely at his mercy, fear and arousal war in my body, and something like sympathy stirs in my chest. I know what it is to feel alone. What would it be like to be the last of your kind? Like me: the last of my family. My thoughts scatter before I can grasp hold of them, blown away by Noah’s warm breath as he presses his hips against me and tests his teeth along my skin. My traitorous body responds, gushing wetness between my thighs. I grip the legs of the table I’m folded over and rashly grind my ass back into him with a whimper.

He abruptly grabs hold of my shoulders, pulling me up so my back is to his chest. His heavy breaths rise and fall with my own.

Slowly, he turns me around. Face to face, I see everything. His desire, wild and fevered. His frustration. His attempt at restraint. And something more. His eyes soften, letting the tiniest bit of white return before going black again.

“Fuck, Ruby. I want to taste you.” He lowers to his knees, holding my waist. “I want to sink my teeth into your thigh.”

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