Page 44 of Savage Crown

I should find some cold, dark corner of this cursed place and drown in my own fury.

But I don’t.

Because no matter how hard I try to ignore it, my lips still taste like him.

Like heat and hunger and a war I didn’t mean to start.

I press my back against the wall, tilting my head up, squeezing my eyes shut.

"You think you can handle what happens if I let go?"

His voice still echoes inside me, dark and velvet and infuriating.

And the worst part?

I had wanted to know.

I had wanted to see what would happen if he lost control completely.

My nails bite into my palms.

Gods.

I’ve survived so much. Chains, masters, years of silence, years of belonging to someone else.

But Rylan—he is different.

Not because he owns me. Not because I am bound to his world, his will, his deadly games.

But because I don’t know if fighting it is what I want.

That terrifies me more than anything.

—

I don’t sleep.

The shadows press too close, and every time I close my eyes, I feel him again.

The way his body caged mine against the desk, his breath hot against my throat.

The way his hands—strong, unyielding—had pinned my wrists like I was something fragile.

And the way I had let him.

I don’t know what unsettles me more—the way he touched me, or the way I wanted it.

The night drags on, the hours stretching too long, too empty. I should rest, should try to forget, but my body is wired, restless.

So I do the only thing I can.

The Midnight Den is silent at this hour.

A heavy, breathless silence. The kind that hides monsters in its depths.

I keep my steps light as I navigate the dim corridors. Not sneaking—just needing space. Needing air.

Needing distance.

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