Page 98 of Satanic Shadow
“Yes,” I breathe.
“Yes what?”
I have no idea. All I know is that my mind is going a million miles an hour, and if I’m not careful, Dane will pick up on the one thought that hasn’t stopped repeating since we were on the ballroom floor.
I block him out when he tries to infiltrate my mind, and I somehow manage to keep him trapped in the confines of a part of me filled with conversations between me and the twins while I dig deep into his.
But he’s doing the same as me.
We’re trapping each other, keeping each other from knowing what we’re thinking about, the images we’re seeing. He forces me to watch his hand slide up my thigh while in class, while I thrash against his mind from frustration.
As if I have a death wish, I want to tell him to fuck me. Death be damned.
I want to peel down my panties, dip my fingers deep inside myself, and let him taste me again. I want him to drive his cock so hard into me that I scream loud enough to shatter every window in the castle, to snuff out candles, to scare the monsters hiding in the walls.
I want this man far too much to be deemed normal. It isn’t a case of lusting or catching feelings for him. This feels like an obsession. A dangerous, terrifying obsession. Because when he isn’t around, I wait for him. I think of him. I imagine a different life with him that I haven’t lived. I even dream about him.
It must be the pairing. And with each task we do, something between us grows stronger. It’s like I’m adjusting to him, to his life and his personality. He’s still rude, but not in the way that he used to degrade me and actually bully me.
He pinned me down by the thighs with his shadow hands in class once, and thinking back, I want him to do it again.
I want Dane Dalton.
I’m not sure when it happens, but he slides out of my mind, freeing me, and tucks a lock of hair behind my ear, his brows knitting together. “What are you doing to me?”
“I think it’s the tasks,” I manage to say breathlessly. “We seem to want each other the more time we spend together, and the more… things we do.”
Dane pulls away from me completely, tsking. “Of course it’s the fucking tasks. Why would I ever want a human? Why wouldyouever want me?”
Fifty-seven fucking times, he says in his head.
The abrupt change in him is like a slap to the face. “Wait, what do you mean by fifty-seven times?”
“You wanted me to be cruel. An enemy. You wanted me to make you hate me. This big idea that falling in love with me again through these tasks is ridiculous. How can you when you despise me?” Dane shakes his head. “This was your idea. This was all your idea, Seraphine. It isn’t working. It never fucking works. And this…” His hand takes mine, lifting it between us to see the faint lines of darkness as the curse starts to reassert itself. “It’s strong. It’s never this strong and I don’t know how to slow it down without killing myself in the process. You’ve never been human, so we have no idea what happens when you die. I’m fucking stuck and I might lose you forever.”
I stare, confused, as I pull my hand free. “I don’t understand.”
He grips his hair and turns his back to me. “Fuck,” he blurts out. “I can’t fucking do this anymore.”
“I think you need to sleep. I’ve no idea what you’re talking about. What was my idea?”
“You were ninety years late, and then Orsen and I found you as a human. What changed, Seraphine?”
He’s delusional from siphoning the curse. “I am human, Dane. I don’t know what you’re talking about. I was born twenty yearsago. I have a full life of memories. I’m Seraphine Winters from Chic—”
“No,” he grits, his eyes glazing over. “Your name is Seraphine Dalton, Queen of the realms, and have been for nearly six hundred fucking years.”
I blink, holding my breath. None of what he’s saying makes sense, and the look in his eyes tells me that he’s losing his mind.
“You need to leave,” I say, my voice shaking. “You’re scaring me.”
He rubs both hands down his face. “I’m sorry. It’s not your fault. I’m just…” He walks to me, cups my cheeks, and strokes his thumbs under my eyes as if he’s done it a thousand times. “I’m tired. I’m so fucking tired, and I miss you and can’t stand talking to you this way. I’ll keep trying. You gave me orders and told me not to take shortcuts. I won’t. I’ll make you forget just now—and the power linking. It’s too much of a risk for you to remember.”
Frowning, I try to find words. “Make me forget what?”
He presses his forehead to mine, then presses his lips softly against it. “I won’t fuck up again, my love. I promise.”
A wave of guilt hits me. Unexplainable. It nearly suffocates me as the back of my eyes sting. “Dane…”
