Page 67 of Claimed In Darkness

The attendant hesitates. "But, my lord, the vault?—"

"I said leave."

Something in his tone makes the air turn thick, makes the walls feel closer, makes the magic in the vault shift uneasily.

The attendant scurries off without another word.

It’s just us.

The silence presses against my ribs, heavy and unbearable.

I close the distance between us, gripping his arm before he can fucking collapse.

"What the fuck are you doing here?" I hiss, voice low, sharp. "You weren’t supposed to come."

His breath stutters, his fingers curling into fists at his sides.

But he doesn’t let me go.

"You shouldn’t be here," I say again.

His body trembles beneath my touch, heat radiating from his skin, feverish, wrong.

"I know," he murmurs, voice strained, raw.

He came anyway.

My grip tightens.

"You’re a fucking idiot."

He exhales, a slow, shuddering sound.

"I know that too."

His lips part slightly, his eyes dropping to my mouth, to the gap between us, to the way my fingers are still curled around his wrist, like I’m the only thing keeping him tethered.

For a single, unforgiving second, the world narrows down to just this.

Just the way he breathes, the way he leans and looks at me like I am the only real thing left in this fucking world.

A mistake.

A fucking mistake.

I step back and the moment shatters.

I grab him by the collar, yanking him forward, dragging his shaking body toward the vault.

"Fine," I bite out. "You’re here now. So get your shit together."

He lets me pull him forward.

Let me lead him, despite the power he wields, despite the thousands of ways he could stop me.

He lets me take control.

As the vault door opens, the magic thrumming behind it, thick and intoxicating, promising power at a price?—

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