Page 8 of Too Dangerous To Die

She swallows hard, forcing her chin higher. "Then what do you want?"

The question is a sharp thing, meant to wound.

It does not.

Becauseshe is asking the wrong question.

I take a step closer, slow and deliberate, watching as herbody tenses.She does not retreat.

"Little healer," I murmur, low and dark, "you already know what I want."

Her throatbobs.She knows. She has knownsince the moment she felt the bond.

I amhungry.

And she is the only thing that keeps me fromfading into nothing.

She takes a shuddering breath, her pulse hammering in her throat.

"You need me." The words are careful now, measured. She istesting the waters,searching for something she might be able to use against me.

Smart.

But not smart enough.

"I do," I admit, watching the way her pupilsdilate."But do not mistake my dependence for weakness, little one. You are mine because I allow it."

She scoffs. "I bound you, monster. Not the other way around."

I laugh then,a deep, rich sound that echoes through the ruined chamber.

She flinches.

I could let her have this delusion, this fragile belief that she is the one in control.

But I do not believe in lies.

I close the remaining distance between us ina single step,my movements slow andunforgiving.Shebacks up instinctively, only to hit the cold wall of the temple behind her.

Cornered.

Her breathingpicks up, shallow and uneven,but she holds my gaze.Stubborn little thing.

Good.

She will need that stubbornness to survive what comes next.

I brace one hand beside her head, fingers curling against the ancient stone as I lean in, my voicedropping into something lethal, something meant to remind her of what I am.

"You made a bargain, little healer. One that has no loophole, no escape. You are bound to me, and I am bound to you. If I die, you die. If you sever the bond, we both perish. So do not speak to me of control, when you hold just as much of a noose around your neck as I do."

Herlips part,her breath hitching.

Shehateswhat I am saying.

But she cannotdenyit.

A beat of silence passes between us, thick and smothering.

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