Page 78 of Demon Monster's Little Human

“Liora.” The way he says my name, low, dark, warning, sends something wicked through me.

But I don’t back down. Not this time.

“Say it, then,” I push. “Tell me you didn’t want it. Tell me you didn’t enjoy it.”

Silence.

A heavy, suffocating silence that stretches between us, thick with everything we refuse to say. His jaw clenches. His wings twitch.

He turns away again.

“I am done with this conversation.”

I laugh. It’s sharp, bitter. “Of course you are.”

We don’t talk after that.

Dain moves like he’s trying to outrun something, ripping apart the room in search of supplies, avoiding my gaze at all costs. Fine. Let him avoid me.

The air in the ruins is thick, damp, pressing against my lungs as we prepare to leave. My body feels strange, lighter, sharper, changed. I roll my shoulders, trying to shake it off, but it lingers. An energy curling under my skin. A whisper in my bones.

I glance at Dain.

My chest tightens.

Something between us feels wrong. Not in a bad way, but in a way that is too much.

I inhale and I feel him.

Not in the way I always have, not in the way I’ve memorized his presence beside me.

I feel him inside me.

His power hums under my ribs. His presence threads through mine, woven into my own.

Panic claws its way up my throat.

I freeze. Dain…?

It isn’t a word, it’s a thought. A whisper.

Yet he hears me.

Dain stills mid-motion. Goes rigid.

When he turns, his pupils are blown wide, his breathing uneven.

He heard me.

His gaze is nothing short of murderous.

“What did you do?” His voice is low, rough, barely restrained.

I blink. “What?”

He moves. Fast.

In a blink, I’m pinned against the wall, his body towering over mine, his claws digging into my wrists. Too close. Too much. Too real.

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