Page 56

"Gentlemen," I say.

Erik leans in close. "We're ready when you are."

I take a breath before dropping the bomb. "Change of plans. You two scout below while I stay topside."

Erik looks astonished. Lucian gapes. "What the hell? Why bail suddenly?"

I turn away, steadying myself. Danica must be here. Leaving her alone with prowling wolves and vampires isn't an option. Before I can explain, Lucian cuts in snidely.

"Let me guess—it's about that hot piece you're panting after, right?"

I spin sharply, grabbing a fistful of his shirt. "Watch yourself," I warn through clenched teeth. Lucian puts his hands up in mock surrender.

"Touchy!" He smirks infuriatingly. "We get it, loverboy."

I release him roughly, still seething—Erik's voice reassures me in my mind. "We understand, brother. The girl complicates things, but we'll adapt. Just be vigilant."

Gratitude swells within me. "Thank you. I'll join you soon." They know what's at stake for us both now.

I'm chewing over the clusterfuck of stuff that's gone down. Just last week, I tracked down the vampire scum who laid hands on Danica. I ran on pure rage—beat him into the ground until his teeth rattled, and he coughed up the truth about her scent being some kind of heavenly drug. Then it clicks—that sweet fragrance of hers that damn near envelops me, clouding my senses. No wonder Marcus is practically a dog with a bone over her.

The burn to keep her close stake my claim—it's hammering at me like a goddamn jackhammer. It's like a warzone in my chest—I can't keep shoving down the beast much longer. And there she is, gliding into the ballroom, knocking the wind out of the whole damn place—she's celestial. That dress is like a second skin, molded to her unreal curves, and that cut—that fucking leg cut—shows just enough to drive the imagination wild.

Her mask? A dazzling azure, sequined, with feathers that scream ‘touch me if you dare.’ She's shining under the lights so bright it's like a mirage. I blink hard because my eyes are playing tricks, but no—when I lock onto those honey eyes, there's zero doubt. It's her, all right. Costumes and bullshit can't hide the woman I'd spot in a blackout.

Some insignificant mortal approaches to ask her to dance. Fangs are out before I know it. Every asshole with eyes is mentally undressing what's mine. The beast in me bares its teeth, snarling to stand down—she's spoken for. She's meant for me! But I force restraint, just this once. She'll be back in my arms where she belongs soon enough.

I let out this deep, guttural growl—feels like it shakes the room. These other fools might be stealing glances, but that's as far as they're ever gonna get. She's my flame, and these moths better back the fuck off.

Her gaze sweeps the room. As soon as her eyes meet mine, the crowd fades away. Time seems to slow. Even from afar, I discern her quickened pulse and excited breaths. Proof our connection is physical and otherwise. We're bound, two flames fated to unite.

I cannot look away, transfixed by her fiery eyes and her fluttering heartbeat. At this moment, our bond transcends words—ancient and powerful, undeniable. We are binary stars destined to collide in a blaze of blinding light.

Only my Angel can tame the monster and make me feel human. Before the night ends, I vow she will be mine.

Seeing her radiant beauty across the room stirs something deep within me—she alone can unravel my icy exterior and touch the fragments of humanity buried underneath, dormant for so long.

A part of me recoils from that tenderness—I am the beast, the demon, meant to instill fear, not love. But under her gentle gaze, my walls begin to crack, light seeping into the dark recesses where my battered soul hides.

No one else could evoke such conflict in me, this simultaneous yearning for her affection and disgust at my own weakness. She is my strength and my undoing. My angel of mercy.

But tonight, I will make her mine. No more resisting our twisted bond. She will give herself to the shadows willingly, irrevocably. I will show her the bleak poetry we can create together from my darkness and her light.

Our fates are bound as one. I am the beast; she is my beauty—two halves of a whole.

Danica

29

Glittering chandeliers illuminate the opulent ballroom, filled with elegantly dressed guests swaying to the swell of music. Their curious eyes turn my way, a hundred probing gazes making my stomach drop uneasily. I clasp and unclasp clammy hands, fiddling with my gown under their scrutiny.

Emily leans in nervously. "Why's everyone staring? Is my tit hangin' out?" I just shake my head mutely, hoping our charade will hold.

My roving eyes freeze as they meet his—I'd recognize that arrogant stance anywhere. We're locked in a charged gaze, electricity arcing invisibly between us. My mind reels even as my pounding heart whispers it's really him.

Squaring my shoulders, I stride forward, grabbing a champagne flute to calm my sudden nerves. I knock it back desperately like it's water.

Needing space, I head to a less crowded area. I snag another bubbly and throw it back. Emily sidles up with a raised eyebrow.