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Tempted to do things I’ve never thought about doing before. Such as touching his dark hair to see if it’s as soft as it looks. Or wiping away some of the blood that still dares to mar his lips.

Lips that are my lips.

And… where did that thought come from? He’s notmyanything. He doesn’t belong to me, and I don’t belong to him.

I don’t want to belong to him.

Shaking my head at myself, I finally find the strength to rip my gaze away.

“What tricks do you think I’m playing on you?” he asks softly and turns my face back to him.

Forced to look at him again, to be struck nearly dumb by his beauty, the urge to bite him comes out of nowhere.

I want to punish him for everything he’s doing to me. For messing with my heart and my head.

His eyes widen in surprise, as if he knows exactly what I’m feeling.

Then his mouth slowly spreads into a devilish grin.

Until I hiss, “Don’t play stupid. You pushed me away. You rejected me. You called metainted.”

Just saying the word out loud is almost too much. I have to stop and take a deep breath to calm the hurt before I can go on.

“And now you want to force me on your lap? Force me to endure your attempt at seduction? To what end? For your own personal amusement?”

His expression falls, bordering on devastation. “I did not reject you. I would never reject you.”

I open my mouth to argue against that, to remind him I was right there when he did it, but he has the audacity to press his finger to my lips.

“I have waited what feels like eons for you, Alena. You are my every dream, my every hope, and my every desire manifested.”

His eyes fill with an emotion I can’t even begin to fathom. “You are the light that brightens the endless night. The stars showing me the path out of the void.”

Moving his hand, he slides his fingers into my hair and tightens them. “Without you, there is only cold oblivion.”

Pulling my face closer to his face, he looks at me like I’m everything he’s ever wanted. “Without you, eternity is simply one lonely night bleeding into the next.”

A strange pressure begins to build behind my ribs, like someone is pushing and prodding at them. It’s extremely uncomfortable, but not nearly as uncomfortable as everything he just said.

First, he literally shoves me away and now…this?

I want to believe he’s lying. It would be easier to believe he’s simply feeding me pretty words to make me more agreeable to his wishes, but the sheer intensity on his face tells me he’s being completely honest.

He means every word.

And it terrifies me.

If he didn’t reject me, why did he call me tainted and burst out of the room like a bat out of hell?

“Do not be afraid of me,” he growls low and deep, his eyes flickering red.

But how could I not be? Not only does he look the very picture of the Devil, with his sharp features and dark hair, he’s making me feel too many weird things I know I shouldn’t be feeling.

Like the pressure behind my ribs growing and expanding, making me fear my heart is about to burst out of my chest at any second.

The compulsion I let Chloe put me under gives me no relief.

It might have worn off.