Page 91 of When Death Whispers

His glowing blue eyes—myeyes—pin me in place. My pulse kicks up, but I don’t move. I don’t look away. And I don’t reach for the blanket. I don’t think modesty means anything to him.

I open my mouth to speak, but his voice cuts through the silence first.

“You summoned me.”

My brow furrows. “I didn’t?—”

“You didn’t have to,” he interrupts, tilting his head slightly. “You called me in a different way.”

His gaze flicks down to the sheets twisted around my thighs, still damp with sweat and other… things. Then to Hudson, still sleeping, his face slack with the kind of exhaustion only bliss brings.

Rad breathes in, slow and deep.

“You let him inside you.”

His voice isn’t angry.

It’s curious.

“I felt every flicker of it. Every stutter in your heartbeat. Every tremor in your breath when you broke for him.”

Rad takes a step closer.

“He made you come,” he murmurs. “How many times?”

My throat works, but no sound comes out.

“Was it enough?” he asks, tilting his head. “Did he touch that part of you that aches even when you’re sated? Did he feel how our bond still pulled tight around your ribs?”

Rad steps around the side of the bed, coming closer with slow, deliberate steps. He doesn’t touch me. He doesn’t have to. His presence alone makes my skin spark, and my pussy throb.

“You don’t understand what you’ve done,” he continues. “You opened a door with him. And the whole time—” He stops at my side, crouching low so he’s eye level. “You were feedingme,too.”

His gaze drops to my throat when I swallow thickly, smirking. Then lower, to the sweat still clinging to my skin.

“You gave him your body,” he says softly. “But your pleasure? Your climax?”

A pause.

“That echoed through me like a siren’s song.”

I don’t know what to say. I should be angry. I should tell him to leave. But I’m frozen. Not by fear.

By the bond.

By thetruthin his voice.

Rad shifts closer, his breath ghosting over my neck. Still not touching. But close enough that I can smell the ash and spice of him.

“You gave him three,” he murmurs, his voice thickening. “And another before. Will you give mejust one?”

My breath catches in my throat. I should say no. I should wake Hudson. I should do anything but consider Rad’s proposition. But the bond pulses between us, hot and insistent. My body responds instinctively, arching slightly toward him even as my mind reels.

“I…” I start, my voice barely a whisper. “I can’t.”

Rad’s eyes flash, a mixture of hunger and something darker. “Can’t? Or won’t?”

His clawed hand hovers just above my skin, not touching, but close enough that I can feel the heat radiating from him. The air crackles with tension, thick with unspoken desire and forbidden temptation.

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