Page 22 of Monster's Pretty Bride

The chamber is silent.

I should leave.

There is no reason to linger.

My feet do not move.

I stare at her, at the curve of her cheek, at the way her lashes cast shadows against her bruised skin. The tension in my chest coils tighter.

I force myself forward, sinking onto the bed.

She should be nothing. She is nothing.

Yet, my hand lifts before I can stop it.

The backs of my claws skim along her jaw, tracing the line of her cheekbone. She is warm beneath my touch, her pulse steady.

My fingers trail lower, ghosting over the hollow of her throat, the place where I had wrapped my hand around her earlier, where I could have squeezed, could have ended this entire game before it truly began.

But I didn’t.

I forced her to fight to prove that I did not care for her.

But here I am. Watching. Waiting. Wanting.

Her lips part slightly, her breath fanning soft against my wrist. A flicker of something unfamiliar stirs in my chest. I yank my hand away, clenching it into a fist.

This is not weakness.

This is not anything.

She is mine to break, mine to destroy.

I cannot seem to let her go.

11

NARANUS

She refuses to eat.

The tray of food sits untouched on the table beside the bed, steam curling into the cold air, the aroma of roasted meat and fresh bread thick enough to make even my patience fray.

She stares at the opposite wall, jaw tight, body wrapped in tense silence.

Defiance, still clinging to her even after she bled for it.

I exhale slowly, flexing my claws, pacing the length of her chamber, every step deliberate.

If she thinks she can starve herself as a final act of control, she is mistaken.

My patience is not infinite.

"Eat." The command is quiet, but it fills the space between us, sinking into the stone like a blade pressed to skin.

She doesn't move.

Not a flinch.

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