Page 42 of Red Ruin
Intoxicating.
His pulse quickens. “Your Grace?—”
“Who?”
He trembles. “Who am I? I’m?—”
“Her. Scent. Who?”
“A woman? You mean the new S-class? Her name is Iris?—”
“Mine.” My claws pierce flesh.
How dare.
They touch.
My.
Guide.
CHAPTER11
IRIS
I didn’t havethe energy to explore my room. I barely managed a shower before aiming myself at the bed and passing out in wet hair and a robe.
I knew I wouldn’t need an alarm.
My lifting neck hair prickles me awake.
Something tugs my ankle.
I bolt upright.
The room is dark, but the man-shaped blot at the end of my bed is cut out darker than the darkness.
Pain.
Ropes of shadow whip around his shoulders.
He grips my ankle in his claws. I catch peeks of the creature hidden underneath the wild spikes of shadow.
Pointed ears. Dark veins. Fangs for days.
My heart wrenches as he drags me down the bed.
The duke isn’t home.
His jagged silks reach for me like hundreds of spider legs—black and purple as a bruise.
I rush to connect our souls and settle him down. The first touch stabs my brain.
“Sentinel!” I gasp.
There’s no reason left in his wavelength.
He’s all animal.
