Page 14 of Claimed In Darkness

The heat between us is unbearable. It presses into me, every space, thick and suffocating.

I can barely breathe.

He knows.

I hate that he knows.

His fingers slip beneath my chin again, forcing me to look at him. His mouth is so close.

“Do you know what I think, little fox?” he murmurs.

I swallow. “What?”

His lips brush just over my ear.

“I think you’ll enjoy pretending to be mine.”

Something inside me snaps.

I slap him.

Hard.

His head whips to the side, a sharp crack ringing through the chamber.

A moment of silence.

He laughs.

A deep, dark fucking laugh.

I hate how beautiful it sounds.

“Oh, Naira,” he muses, dragging a thumb over his bruising cheek.

“You’re going to make this so much fun.”

6

ZEPHIRAN

She’s still seething.

I feel it radiating from her, an untamed heat curling around her body like an aura of defiance. It drapes over her like a second skin, her anger, her loathing—a tangible thing that she wears like armor.

She looks ravishing in red.

The silk barely clings to her frame, sliding against her skin in ways that should be illegal. The deep cut of the dress exposes the delicate slope of her collarbone, the flush creeping up her neck as she clenches her fists.

Her rage is delicious.

But rage alone won’t save her.

“Come. We must continue to our second lesson.” I command.

She doesn’t move.

I arch a brow, stepping forward, watching the flicker of hesitation in her sharp, dark eyes. She’s thinking about disobeying.

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