Page 101 of When Death Whispers

She shoves at my chest, more panic than protest and I take a step back, not because I want to, but to give her room to think. “Because you do.”

I blink. She freezes—like her body wants to suck the words right back in. But it’s too late. Those words are out in the open and they are fucking mine now.

“I mean—not like that,” she stammers. “Not in a possession way. I just?—”

She runs a hand through her hair, pacing now. Her voice climbs with each word. I let her process what she wants to say, give her room to think it all through, and hold myself back from telling her how much it all affects me with my mouth, hands, my cock. I promised understanding and patience. But dammit it all if I’ll let her try to justify pushing me away again. Not after everything we’ve shared.

“God, Hudson, I painted a target on you. You realize that, right? With everything going on—I practicallybrandedyou.”

She crosses her arms tight, curling in on herself like she’s bracing for impact. Spiraling.

And I get it.

Igetit.

Because I’ve felt it too. The weight. The knowing. The helplessness. That I can't always protect her from what waits in the dark.

But this?

Her claiming me?

That doesn’t scare me. I want her brand on me, I want her to mark me, I’ll display it proudly and even fucking brag about it. I even want to smell like her delicious citrus scent, so there’s absolutely no confusion as to who I belong to.

I step in again, one hand on her waist, the other rising to cup her jaw. “I don’t care.”

She goes still.

Her lashes flutter, lips parting. “You should,” she whispers. “You really, really should.”

“Maybe,” I say. “But I don’t.”

I brush my thumb across her cheek.

“Parker... you could tattoo my name on your forehead, and I still wouldn’t care.”

She lets out a breath—shaky, disbelieving. “That’s not funny.”

“I’m not joking,” I say. “You could paint me in neon and toss me to the monsters, and I’d still stand between you and them.”

Her breath catches. I feel it.Feel her.

“Because if being yours puts a target on my back…”

I step closer.

“…then let them come.”

I let the words settle in the space between us. Let her draw her conclusions, let her feel the weight of all the honesty and truth I put into them.

“Better me than you.”

She stares at me for a long moment. Eyes glassy. Lips parted.

Then she lunges.

Faster than I can blink, she grabs me by the collar of my shirt and yanks me into her. Our mouths collide, all teeth and heat and raw fucking need. She devours me.

And god, Ineedher to.

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