Page 58 of When Death Whispers

I crave it.

Fuck. This explains so much. The way I reacted to my monster’s shadows in the dark. The way Rad’s presence doesn’t scare me, but excites me.

The way I don’twantsafety—I want thedanger.

Rad takes another slow step forward. I take one back. His ears flick forward, nostrils flaring, as if scenting my reaction, mywant, and his eyes burn brighter. His tail flicks, muscles tensing, a predator ready to pounce.

“You should know…” His voice drops lower, rougher, deadly. “The chase comes with rules.”

I take another slow step back, testing his reaction. He lets out a growl, his claws flexing at his sides.

“Rules?” I manage, throat dry. My breath is uneven now, every nerve in my body wound tight.

“The first rule,” he says as a slow smile spreads across his face, “is if you scream, your fear will feed my beast. And I will run faster.”

Oh fuck.

“The second,” he continues, stepping closer, “if you bleed… I will feast on it.” His tongue flicks across his fangs, eyes half-lidded with hunger. “And I may not stop. That taste you gave me when you summoned me? It was just a tease. I’ve been craving more, Parker.”

My knees wobble. My lungs constrict. A thrill— a pulse, hot and biting—twists low in my stomach.

Double fuck.

“The last rule.” His voice drops to a decadent rasp, dripping with promise. “If I catch you…” He leans in, close enough for me to feel the heat of him. “Iwillclaim you. Every inch, every sound, every part of you. And youwillwant it, Beholden. You willbegfor it. Because you’remine.”

My breath leaves in a gasp. My thighs press together instinctively, the rush of arousal dizzying.

I should run.

I should run.

“...And if I escape?” I whisper, bending my knees, readying to launch.

Rad’s grin is pure, wicked delight. “If you escape,” he purrs, “you may ask anything of me. And I will make it so.”

A flicker of something darker flashes across his face—dangerous, smug, knowing.

“But you won’t.”

My breath catches. His body shifts—muscles bunching, claws flexing.

He’s ready.

I don’t think. I run.

The world blurs, my instincts kicking in, feet hitting the damp earth in a steady, practiced rhythm. I know how to run. I’ve been chased all my life—by monsters, by shadows, by things that wanted me dead.

This is different.

This isn’t running for my life.

It’s running for thethrill.

A snarl tears through the woods behind me—feral, eager, unrestrained.

Fuck. Too close.

I push harder, my pulse roaring, my breaths coming fast and sharp. I hear him—his heavy footfalls, the snapping of branches, the ragged sounds of his breaths.

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