Page 39 of In Shadows We Dance

The heat of her body, the way she shivers against me … I can't get enough. I want to strip her bare, and fuck her where she stands.

"Let me go." Her voice is breathless, trembling as much as her body.

"Why would I do that?" I stroke along her jaw with my thumb, tilting her head back. "When catching you feels this good?"

She’s shaking, and I savor every shiver, every hitch of her breath. This close, her scent is overwhelming—the light, floral fragrance mixing with sweat and fear, clinging to her skin. My blood burns with it, roaring through my veins, demanding more.

"Please—"

"Please what?" I lower my head, my lips kissing a path along her jaw. "Please let you go? Please stop making you feel things you don't want to admit?" My lips cover the pulse beating at the base of her throat. "Your heart is racing. But is it just terror? Or is it the thrill of knowing you can't hide from me? Of knowing I see you in a way no one else ever has?"

I lick over her skin, tasting her fear.

"You can't hide from me, Ileana, no matter how hard you try. You’re mine."

I step back. She stumbles, her body sagging with relief and confusion. The moment I release her, my body aches to pull her back, to feel her warmth pressed into me once more. But I force myself to hold back, to let her go, the anticipation only fueling the fire inside me.

"Run." The command is sharp, making her flinch, her gaze snapping up to meet mine. "Show me again how fear makes you dance."

For a moment she stays frozen, her back against the tree. Then, survival instinct kicks in, and she bolts into the darkness.

I give her a thirty-second head start, counting each second out loud, my voice echoing through the stillness, my body almost vibrating with the need to chase. To claim.To possess.

"Ready or not." The words drip with dark promise, resonating through the night. "Here I come."

CHAPTER 19

Fear’s Strange Fire

ILEANA

I run,my lungs burning with every gulp of air I suck in. His command still echoes in my ears—Run. My body obeys on instinct, moving faster than thought.

Lottie warned me about Wren. I should have paid more attention to what she said. I should have refused to leave the apartment. I should have told my dad he was there.

Coulda, woulda, shoulda.

The stupid phrase is loud in my head as I run, but it's too late for regrets now. Something has changed. Something feels different inside me, and Ihateit. Hate how his touch still clings to my skin, how his words coil around my mind like a snake, winding tighter and tighter until I can't think of anything else.

Is it just terror? Or is it the thrill of finally being seen?

No! I won't let him get inside my mind like this. Won't let him make me question myself. But my heart races for reasons that aren't entirely about fear anymore, and that terrifies me more than the chase itself.

The moon breaks through the clouds, casting strange shapes that seem to move and breathe around me. My muscles scream in protest—first the dance, now this. Each step sends a new wave of exhaustion pulsing through my bones, but my body moves like it’s running on pure adrenaline, the line between fear and something else blurring with every pounding heartbeat.

"Running makes your heart beat faster." His voice carries through the darkness. "But what is exciting you more? The escape or the fact that you know I’m right behind you?"

His words spark something hot and dangerous within me.I try to push harder, to outrun not just him but the confusing sensations he’s stirring awake. Branches snag at my clothes, scratch across my skin, and each sting reminds me of where I am, why I’m running. This is about escape, survival—not … whatever else his voice promises.

Yet my skin burns for reasons that have nothing to do with running. Every inch feels like it’s on fire, hyperaware of the woods surrounding me, the night … andhim.

“You can’t ignore it forever.” He’s to my left now, moving in the shadows, as if they belong to him. “The way you lit up when I held you in place, when I pressed you against that tree.”

“Shut up!” The words rip from me, but they do nothing to stop the heat pooling low in my stomach, the ache that’s building there despite my fear.

Laughter answers me. It’s not just Wren, it’s the others. Monty and Nico. Their voices weaving in and out of the trees like a hunter’s chorus.

“I love it when they fight,” Monty says. “It makes the chase so much more satisfying.”

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