Page 22 of Claimed By Fangs and Darkness

“You know what’s better than being feared?” He paused, turning to lean over the island between us as he pinned me with his gaze. “Being respected. I want to worship you, Evie. I don’t fear you. I only fear losing you.”

Kylo and his stupid, perfect words. I suppressed the urge to growl in frustration. I knew what he had done to Jacob. I poisoned him and ran from him—the one thing he’d commanded me never to do. I’d challenged his control, his authority.

Yet there was no grand, sinister mask slip. He didn’t move to punish me. To gaslight me. To make me feel guilty or wrong or stupid.

Kylo was still Kylo, the man I’d fallen in love with.

The man who betrayed me and covered it up.

“Idris is safe?” I asked again, even though he’d already answered this question a few times in different ways as he’d cooked me breakfast.

Kylo didn’t show a hint of irritation. “Yes, baby. He’s just a little shocked and doesn’t remember what happened. He’s being expertly cared for.”

Kylo had told me that he’d checked on Idris multiple times while I’d been asleep. I knew it wasn’t safe to visit him yet, but the urge was as strong as ever.

“Did I hurt anyone? Besides the born and Servant of Lillian?”

Kylo’s eyes darkened. “No, not to my knowledge. The shadows scorched quite a bit of land, and the surrounding area experienced high winds, property damage, fear for their lives…” His lip curled. “Did the witch know who you were? Is that why they attacked you?”

I shook my head. “No.”

Anger rattled my bones. I felt my shadows yearning to break free, and for the first time in my life, I was easily able to soothe my dark magick back to rest.

Because I no longer feared it.Andbecause I promised to deliver my darkness its next desired meal.

“This was the fucking Whitfields.”

Kylo was perplexed for only a moment before he put two and two together. His face dropped from wrath to guilt in the next breath.

The sound of Idris’s skull splitting had me seeing red. “They killed my brother. I’m going to see to it that they get everything they deserve.”

Kylo sighed. “Reasonable. And also sexy,” he drawled. “But we can’t afford another magickal explosion. Not now. Not with all of Ravenia’s eyes on us.”

All of Ravenia? Oh gods. The old Evie reared her fearful head for only a brief moment.

“Then I won’t explode,” I said simply. I took another gulp of coffee and bite of eggs as visions of righteous violence flashed across my mind’s eye.

I hadn’t realized I’d been smirking until Kylo’s eyes were glued to my lips. His arm muscles flexed, something potent sparking the air between us.

He seemed to shake himself out of it with monumental effort. “We are still glamoured. We’re on the precipice of war. And when the born strike, I need the clan to be prepared. Not taken off guard and forced to adapt, especially with our new chaos witch only just learning to wield her power. I have been building these forces and forging our path carefully for eighty years.”

My eyes widened. He really was grandpa-aged. Maybe even great-grandpa. I comforted myself with his beautiful, masculine features and bulky tattooed muscles until my stomach settled. Vampires wereold.

Kylo’s brow lifted. “Angel?”

“You aren’t allowed to be the only one to deliverjustice,and I use that term lightly when it comes to you,” I spat. “If I’m truly not a prisoner or a means to an end, then you will stay out of my way.” I straightened, making my once people-pleasing demeanor unyielding instead. “I am going to pay the Whitfields a visit. Today.”

Kylo’s jaw ticked. “No longer scared of war, are we?” he asked, his voice low and slightly condescending.

I bristled.

“Your brother isn’t ready for battle either, Evie. He’s going to want to protect you and Mena. And to do so, he needs training andtime.”

I opened my mouth to state the obvious—that even without another magickal explosion, the born could move in at any moment. Kylo already knew this.

“I can’t have you revealing your identity,” he said. “You are already the most coveted kill in the city.”

We stood in a silent, calculated stare-off. So much was said, and so much more remained unsaid and painfully obvious.