Page 52 of Claimed In Darkness

52

NAIRA

T he relic wants me to fight, I should have. Surrendering to Zephiran should have been the last from my mind.

I should have let him kill me before it ever came to this.

But I didn’t.

Zephiran has always known what buttons to press to make me give up.

He wants the truth, the feelings in my heart.

And I’m going to give it to him.

His hands are still on me.

Holding me in place.

His body, a wall of heat against mine, keeping me from running.

Not that I would.

There’s nowhere left to go.

No matter how hard I try, he always catches up to me.

He’s had me since the beginning. And I have spent too long pretending otherwise.

I let my breath shudder out, my fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt, nails digging in, as if that will keep me steady.

It won’t. Nothing will.

Not when he’s looking at me like he has been waiting for me to utter the truth from my mouth.

The truth that I’m trying to hide from.

I’m still his, and I love him.

"Say it,” he demands.

His voice is low, dangerous, curling around my throat like a blade.

I squeeze my eyes shut.

I can’t.

"Naira."

My name, dragged from his lips like a promise. Or a curse.

I shake my head.

He tightens his grip. It’s not painful, just unyielding.

Enough to remind me he won’t let this go. Just enough to remind me he never does.

I swallow hard.

"Why do you have to ask when you already know the answer?"

His fingers slide along my jaw, tilting my chin up, forcing me to meet his gaze.

"Say it anyway,” he orders.

I exhale, hard and sharp as if breathing alone is like pulling teeth out of my mouth.

He needs to hear it.

"I never stopped being yours, I love you."

It’s barely a whisper.

His body stiffens, and his breath stills.

His fingers tighten, his pulse kicking hard against mine.

Then he makes a move.

Fast. Brutal. Hungry.

His mouth crashes against mine, his hands pulling me closer like he wants to consume me.

He wants to own me all over again. His hands feel like a brand on my skin, his heat searing whatever’s left of my soul.

He is making sure I can never take those words back.

I meant them, though. There’s no taking back those words.

This is the only thing that has ever been real between us.

And it is too late to run from it now.

I claw at him, nails raking down his back, desperate for something to anchor me.

For something to keep me from drowning in him.

His mouth is at my throat now, his breath hot, sharp, fucking wrecked.

"Say it again, repeat those words. Say you’re mine."

I shudder. I shouldn’t be fucking shaking in his arms like I need him to keep me upright.

His voice is like a command to my soul, clutching my heart. I can’t deny him.

So I do the worst thing I could ever do.

The thing I swore I never would.

"I never stopped being yours, always. I’m forever yours."

It feels like surrender, as if a lock inside me is breaking.

Like I have nothing left to fight for.

I have given in to the only thing I was ever destined to be.

His.

His forehead presses against mine, his breath uneven, his fingers still curled into my waist.

"Yes, you’re destined to be mine. Always will be."