Page 167 of Savage Crown

“Where have you been?” His voice is low, possessive.

I step closer, trailing my fingers along the table’s edge, my eyes flicking over the markings before settling on him.

“Among the people.”

His brow lifts. “And what did you find?”

I tilt my head. “That they are afraid. That they are loyal. That they will follow you anywhere.”

A smirk tugs at his lips. “And you?”

I pause, feeling the implications of the answer before I speak.

“They will follow me too.”

The smirk fades.

Replaced by something deeper.

Something more dangerous.

Rylan knows what I am.

And power, in this world, is both a gift and a curse.

He pushes away from the table, crossing the room in slow, deliberate steps.

I do not move.

Especially when he reaches me.

When his fingers trail up my arm, ghosting over perfect, unmarked skin that should not exist.

And when he grips my chin, tilting my face, forcing me to meet his eyes head-on.

“You don’t flinch anymore,” he murmurs.

I hold his stare. “Do you want me to?”

His lips curl, but it is not amusement.

It is hunger.

Possession.

“Never.”

He kisses me.

I let him pull me under, let him take, let him consume—in this moment, he is not thinking about the power that hums beneath my skin.

He is not thinking about what I am.

Only who I am.

His.

And gods help me, I am.

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