Page 70 of Wicked Beasts
My mind drifts, distracted by the thought of him, the man who haunts my every waking moment, a figure both terrifying and magnetic, pulling me in with a force that tugs at something deep within me. A part of me trembles with fear while another part, darker and more secret, longs to be consumed by him.
I shouldn’t be, not after what he’s done, and I want to scold myself for it.
But I can’t help it. I am helplessly intoxicated—willingly addicted.
I know what this dinner means now—perhaps what it has always meant. It’s a meeting between predator and prey, though the lines between the two blur in my mind. I can already feel the weight of his gaze, the way it will land on me, cold yet primal, filled with desire.
The thought makes my pulse quicken, and yet, I don’t resist. Instead, I finish lacing my boots and bind myself to the unraveling before me.
Maybe Tristan never intended to show up. Perhaps he invited me here not to come, but to lure me to this moment. The thought of him fading into the shadows brings a twist of unease, a flutter of panic, to my chest—but I push it down. This isn’t his fault. I refuse to blame him for it.
My stomach turns to knots as I force myself to stand. At first, my ankles feel weak, but slowly, I find my rhythm again as I allow the thread to lead me further down the unknowing path. At first, the familiarity of my surroundings offer an odd sense of comfort, like an outstretched hand from a thoughtful friend, ready to guide me and console me. The dimly lit halls, the silent murmur of the air vents, the sound of my steps against the hard floor.
I open the door to the dining room, though the hand that touches it doesn’t feel like mine. My fingers brush the golden rose charm hanging around my neck—something to ground me—but it seems more like an anchor dropped in too-shallow waters, and it tugs at me, threatening to drag me deeper into the abyss.
Then, I see him.
Dr. Shadow.
He stands as soon as our eyes meet, and the unspoken tension between us thickens the air so quickly, I almost choke. His primal gaze pins me, unyielding, igniting a fire that flickers with dark promise. He is always handsome, impossibly so, but tonight, there is something more about him. His hair tousled perfectly. His shirt—a deep navy—clings to his broad shoulders, chest, and arms, the sleeves pushed up to reveal the thick veins beneath his skin. The top buttons of his shirt are undone, and my eyes can’t help but trace the sharp curve of his collarbones, chiseled and defined, as if carved from stone. His body is a sculpted masterpiece, the fabric of his shirt straining over muscles as much a part of him as his dark, enigmatic presence.
A tremor coils deep in my chest, but it’s notonlyof fear. It’s something far more dangerous, far more intoxicating. The fear that blooms inside me also fuels the fire of my desires, and I know, without a doubt, that I am lost.
Perhaps I have been lost for a while now. I’ve always had a hard time saying no to men who know what they want.
And I know he wants me.
My gaze settles on the cut slashed across his cheek as I move to close the space between us. Instantly, I am reminded of his fight with Tristan.Tristan… Why does his name suddenly feel so foreign to me? The weight of his name is heavy on my tongue.
Dr. Shadow’s large hands rest on the back of the chair he has pulled out for me, but I can’t bring myself to sit. Instead, a frown creases between my brows as I look up at him.
“What’s wrong?” he asks. His voice is deep and seductive, as though trying to lull the problems away. Dim the fear and drag me down.
I can’t bring myself to speak. It’s as if I have forgotten how to form a sentence. My body, my mind—everything is distracted, spinning under his touch as his hand glides to my waist. Mybreath catches, stolen by the proximity of him as he steps behind me.
“You look…beautiful,” he whispers as he pulls me toward him and nudges the scruff of his cheek against my neck. His breath stirs, warm and intoxicating. “And you smell divine.” A shiver races down my spine as he sweeps my hair aside, his lips finding the delicate curve of my neck. The contact sends a tremor of lust surging through me, the heat coursing through my veins as my face grows hot.
“I’d take you right here,” he murmurs into the shell of my ear, his voice thick with dark promise. The words sink into me like fire, his hot breath making my skin burn even more. “On this table.”
A shudder ripples through me at his words, at the raw hunger in his tone. My heart pounds wildly, blood roaring in my ears as his hands slide possessively around my waist, pulling me flush against his hard body. The evidence of his arousal presses insistently against my lower back, sending liquid heat pooling between my thighs.
“D-Dr. Shadow,” I breathe out, my voice trembling. But even as I say his name, I'm already arching into his touch, craving more. “We shouldn't... Not here…” Even as the weak protest leaves my lips, my body betrays me, melting into his embrace.
“Why not?” His fingers dig into my hips almost painfully as he grinds against me, a low growl rumbling in his chest. “I want you.” His voice is a dark purr, dripping with lust and barely-restrained hunger. One large hand slides up my side to cup my breast, kneading roughly.
He spins me around to face him in one, swift movement, pinning me against the table. His other hand tangles in my hair, tugging my head back to expose the column of my throat. “I don’t care who sees,” he growls, lifting my chin as he drags histhumb down my lip before crashing his mouth against mine in a brutal, dominating kiss.
A gasp escapes me as he claims my mouth, the sharp sting of his teeth sending jolts of pleasure-pain straight to my core. I find myself kissing him back fiercely, pent-up longing and forbidden desire pouring out. My fingers clutch at his shoulders, nails digging into the firm muscle as I lose myself in the relentless assault of his lips and tongue.
When he finally releases me, we're both breathing heavily. My lips feel swollen, aching for more of his bruising kisses. “Tristan…” I whimper, still caught in the haze of lust, the name slipping out unbidden, my memories of passion mingling and flexing.
The name hangs in the air between us like the knell of a forbidden bell. Realization dawns, and panic flashes through me.
Dr. Shadow tightens his fist in my hair and yanks me back as though I had struck him.
“Tristan?”
Sixty-Two
