Page 93 of When Death Whispers

“You didn’t have to, Beholden.” I let my voice crawl low through the space between us. Her skin prickles, heat blooming to the surface. “Your body did.”

She looks up—finally.

Our eyes lock.

Her lips part, but she doesn’t speak. She doesn’thaveto. The bond hums between us like a second heartbeat.

I step forward, the floor creaking beneath my weight as my claws scrape against polished wood. My body casts long shadows across her walls—horns nearly grazing the ceiling, my frame taking up too much space for this small, fragile room.

She doesn’t move away.

I lower myself onto the edge of the bed. The frame groans in protest beneath my weight.

She stays still. Watching. Wide-eyed. Tense.

Like a flame trying to decide whether to flicker... orburn.

“You’re flushed,” I murmur. My voice softens—not because I lack hunger, but because I want her tolisten.

“You’re still glowing from him. But right now... you’re thinking ofme.”

Her pulse stutters.

Good.

She swallows hard, eyes locked to mine, chest rising with every breath.

“I’m not just here to make you come.” I pause. I want to watch the words settle. “I’m here to make you remember who you belong to.”

Parker’s breath catches, a soft gasp slipping past her parted lips. Her eyes widen, pupils blown as desire and fear tangle like vines around her heart. Her thoughts are sifting through memories of me chasing her, catching her,claimingher, lust finally winning over the fear.

I lean closer, casting her in my shadow, her scent thick with arousal, laced with the aftermath of her earlier cravings. My claws sink into the mattress, tearing through the fabric like wet paper.

Her pulse flutters beneath her skin—wild, erratic. Goosebumps rise across her arms, her nipples peeking through the thin fabric of her top. She shivers, but not from cold. I cup her thigh, my hand massive, claws dragging delicate patterns across her creamy skin. She gasps but doesn’t pull away.

“Do you remember the first time I claimed you?” I growl, my voice low and rumbling, knowing full well that those memories are currently playing on a loop inside her mind. “How you trembled beneath me—caught between ecstasy and terror?”

Her breath hitches. I feel the echo of that night humming through our bond, sharp and sweet.

“You were so small. So fragile,” I continue, claws tracing higher. “And still, you took all of me. Every. Last. Inch.”

She whimpers—barely audible, but to me, it’s a melody. My hand slides higher, fingertips brushing the edge of her panties. Parker’s hips twitch involuntarily, seeking more contact. I growl low in my throat, pleased by her responsiveness.

Her eyes flutter closed, lashes casting shadows on her flushed cheeks. I lean in, my muzzle brushing against her ear as I inhale deeply, savoring the intoxicating blend of fear and arousal that radiates from her skin.

“Open your eyes, Beholden,” I command, my voice vibrating through her. “I want you to see who’s making you feel this.”

Her eyes snap open, filled with hunger, defiance, and need. Her fingers curl into the sheets, white-knuckled. I lean in again, inhaling her scent like a man starved.

“You’ve been playing with fire,” I murmur. “Let me show you what it means to burn.”

I shred her tank top in a single motion. Her gasp is sharp, spine arching as the cool air kisses her skin. My claws trail down her sternum, leaving faint lines behind. She shivers under my touch.

“Such a delicate thing,” I murmur. “So easily marked.”

I palm her breast, rough and possessive, her thighs clenching as my claw grazes her nipple. Her strangled moan goes straight to my cock.

Her thoughts are begging for more.

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