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“Okay.” She nods, her eyes holding mine.

“I would do anything for you, darling.” And I mean it because in this fucked-up world of blood and shadows, she’s the one thing that makes me feel human. A feeling I’m not used to.

“Can I see it?” Aurora’s voice cuts through the quiet of the house, a tremble lacing her words.

“See what?” I ask though I know damn well what she means.

“Your… basement. The murder dungeon.”

I study her for a moment, the curiosity in her eyes warring with something darker, something scared. “Alright,” I say finally, my voice flat. It’s a bad idea, but denying her feels worse. “But don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

We walk down the stairs together, her hand light in mine. But the second that door swings wide open, the scenthits us—a cocktail of blood, death, and lemon bleach—her whole body stiffens.

“Jesus, Felix…” Her whisper is almost lost beneath the clang of metal tools I’ve hung meticulously on the walls. The place looks like a goddamn shrine to horror movies.

“Take a good look, darling. This is me too.”

She steps forward, her gaze darting from one instrument to another until it lands on the metal coroner’s gurney with its sinister drain. That’s when she loses it. A strangled gasp escapes her lips, and she crumples like a marionette with severed strings.

“Fuck.” I scoop her up before she hits the floor, all elbows, knees, and panic. Her heart hammers against my chest as I carry her out of there, out of the stench and the sight of my demons laid bare.

I set her on the sofa upstairs, holding her face between my hands. “Talk to me, baby. What happened? What set you off down there?” My questions are bullets. I need answers, not to hurt her, but to understand and fix whatever I broke by taking her down there.

“Kidnapped,” she chokes out between jagged breaths, tears making clean tracks down her face. “For three weeks. Masked men… they did shit to me,” she manages to stammer out, none of it making sense.

“The gurney. They tied me to one, cut up my back.” She shivers, and I run my hand under her shirt to her back. I can feel the scars under my fingertips, hidden under the works of art masking her pain.

“Darling, I’m not one hundred per cent sure about what you are telling me. You will need to tell me in detail one day,but I have a small understanding,” I grind out the words, tasting rage and the promise of vengeance for past sins not even mine. “I’ll get rid of the gurney today. Gone. You’ll never see it again.”

Her eyes are still wild, haunted. “I’ll never be okay with torture, Felix.”

“Listen,” I say, my voice softening with an edge of something like regret. “Something bad happened to me once too. This is how I cope. I don’t touch innocents, only those who’ve got it coming.”

“Like vigilante justice?” Her eyes have a flicker of understanding, but it doesn’t quite dispel the fear.

“Something like that.” It’s a raw truth, a glimpse into the abyss that is me. “It’s fucked up, but it’s the way things are.”

“Okay,” she whispers, her fingers tracing the scar at the base of my throat—a permanent reminder of my brush with death.

The air is charged with her fear, but I’m here to chase the shadows away. “Aurora…” I murmur, my voice a low growl of earnest promise, “… I swear on my fucking life, I won’t ever hurt you.”

She looks up at me, her eyes brimming with those salty tears, and something feral in me wants to hunt down every last one of her demons. She leans in, hesitant at first, until our lips meet, and I taste her pain. It mingles with the heat between us, raw and unfiltered.

“Come here,” I command softly, more of a plea than an order. I lift her into my lap, and she wraps her legs around me, straddling me like she’s claiming her throne. My hands are on her, pulling at her top, exposing skin that begs to beworshipped. Her nipples harden under my touch, and there’s a certain kind of power in knowing I can give her this, this escape from the darkness.

“Need you, Felix,” she breathes out, and fuck if that doesn’t hit me straight in the gut.

“Got you, darling.” I’m all tender touches and soft kisses now. There is no room for the harshness she fears. I worship every inch of her, my lips trailing fire across her flesh.

I stand, her body still melded to mine, and carry her to the bedroom. There, it’s just her and me, no past horrors, just the promise of pleasure. Clothes fall away, barriers stripped until it’s only skin on skin.

I trail my lips down her body, savouring the softness of her skin until I reach the apex of her thighs. Slowly, I glide my tongue up the middle of her pussy, eliciting soft moans and writhing movements from her on the bed. Without hesitation, I plunge my tongue deep into her wetness and begin to thrust in and out, lapping up her delicious juices. She tastes like sweet honey, and I can’t resist pushing two fingers inside her. I curve them just right to press against the roof of her pussy and slowly pump them in and out while I continue to suck on her sensitive clit. It doesn’t take long before she succumbs to pleasure and releases all over my face, her tight pussy clenching around my fingers with each wave of ecstasy.

I pull my fingers out, climb up her body, and place the head of my dick at her entrance.

“Fuck, I’m not on birth control,” she pants out, a tinge of panic lacing her words.

“Doesn’t matter,” I growl out, locking eyes with her. “Ifyou bear my child, I’ll cherish it as much as I do you.” The truth of it rings through me, fierce and possessive. Her eyes widen, and I can see the emotions swirling—a mix of surprise and something deeper, like belonging.