Page 47 of Claimed By Fangs and Darkness
“Next piece,” he said softly. “You’re being so good for me, baby.”
When he kissed the base of my neck, I relished the tingling pleasure that radiated from where his lips touched.
The needle met where Kylo had kissed. I made a soft, pained noise before settling deeper.
“My strong, intelligent, fierce, loyal girl,” he praised.
Ecstasy wrapped around me like shadows. I was held by the earth below, supported by the starlight above.
“Your words are made of drugs.”
Kylo paused his tattooing to laugh. “No talking, my subby, spacey, pliable angel. Just listen.”
I sighed contentedly, relaxing into Kylo’s gentle, painful worship.
“You are a rarity in this world. The fact that you once argued against your own specialness astounds me. What you didfor your brother and for yourself—not only when you were a child but also recently with your healing, growing, and breaking free from your internal bondage—it’s more than most will accomplish in their lifetimes. You should be immensely proud of the woman you have become. And it’s a privilege to know you. And your shitty mother, father, and coven?” He paused, his voice reverberating through the dark night. “Their fucking loss, angel.Their fucking loss.”
A sob broke free, and I recognized the wounded inner child that took up residence in this space. Tears rolled down my cheeks, dropping to the bench below.
Kylo ran a hand through my hair as he consoled me, as he told me how worthy I was, how much I deserved to be loved and protected.
And for the first time, I didn’t tell him to stop. I didn’t tell him the past didn’t matter, or that I didn’t want to be psychoanalyzed. I didn’t shun this vulnerability and what it meant for my wounded heart and love-hungry soul.
Itdidmatter. Every moment that had led me to this one, limbs intertwined with his—they all mattered.
“I’m not sorry,” I said suddenly, with a small shake of my head.
The words became some holy mantra, a spell of their own.
“Say it again.”
“I’m not sorry.”
“Louder.”
“I’m not sorry!” I screamed into the night.
The words rattled in my mind, over and over, healing some deep part of me. My tears dried up, and raw power moved down my spine.
“Heavens above,” Kylo murmured, tracing my back.
I didn’t wince this time.
“Last one,” he said. “Sit up for me, please.”
I sat to face him. The fire in my eyes complemented the pride in his. He kissed both sides of my lips.
“Arm,” he said.
I lifted my arm, and Kylo took it into his strong hand. I didn’t look down. Sharp, icy pain met the tender flesh of my forearm. I let myself be marked for a third time as magick charged the air.
All my life, I’d apologized to everyone for everything. I’d strived endlessly to atone for sins that had never belonged to me.
I lifted a hand to the smile that had formed on my lips. It felt like a radical, revolutionary act to take up this much space, to tell the world I was done carrying excess weight.
My next exhale was long and easy.
“All done,” Kylo said, after a much shorter length of time. “This one needed to be more visible. It’s a clan sigil.”
