Page 36 of Claimed In Darkness

She turns to me, her eyes ablaze, furious, sharp as a dagger against my ribs.

"You think you own me?" she hisses.

I smile.

"You wore the collar without protest."

She opens her mouth?—

Then closes it.

She knows I’m right.

She is playing the game now, too.

I lean in, my lips just a breath away from her pulse point, from the heat thrumming beneath her skin.

"Stay close tonight," I murmur, feeling her body tremble beneath the command.

She doesn’t answer.

But she doesn’t pull away, either.

That—that means I won this round.

13

NAIRA

The blade feels good in my hand.

Cold. Solid. Real.

Unlike everything else in this goddamned place. Unlike the silk dresses he forces me into, the silver collar biting against my throat, the gilded cage he has locked me inside.

This—this is mine.

I curl my fingers around the hilt, steadying my breath. The knife is small, light enough to conceal, sharp enough to do damage.

It will have to be.

Tonight, I’m going to kill him.

I move through the shadows, my bare feet making no sound against the marble floor. The aroma of dark spice and steel lingers in the air, the unmistakable presence of him saturating every inch of this place.

He sleeps too easily.

Too comfortable in his power.

Another reason to add as to why I despise him.

The sheets are dark, the color of spilled ink, tangled around his waist as he lies on his side, bare from the waist up. His body is carved of darkness and sin, a lethal thing even in rest. The moonlight kisses every scar, every ridge of muscle, every mark of war and cruelty written into his skin.

His breath is slow. Steady.

Unbothered. Relax, even.

I tighten my hold on the dagger, stepping closer, slow and silent, until I stand at the very edge of the bed.

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