Page 36 of Donovan

I lifted a hand but stopped just short of touching him, waiting. He didn’t pull away.

"You're still you," I reminded him.

Declan shook his head, stepping back.

"I can’t do this," he muttered.

"Yes, you can," I countered.

His gaze snapped to mine, sharp and frustrated.

"Why are you doing this?" he bit out. "Why won't you just let me go?"

"Because I know you," I said, stepping closer. "And because I?—"

I stopped. I swallowed. I had almost said it.

He must have seen the hesitation on my face because his own expression shifted. Something flickered in his eyes, something deep and unspoken.

"Because you what?" he challenged, voice quieter now.

The space between us felt too small again. The air too charged. This was dangerous, but maybe I didn’t care anymore.

I reached out before I could think better of it, cupping the side of his face, my thumb brushing along the sharp line of his jaw.

He inhaled sharply, but didn’t pull away. His eyes searched mine, and for a split second, I saw it again. The need. The want. The fear.

“You’re important to me. You’ve always been,” I whispered.

CHAPTER NINE

DECLAN

"You’re important to me."

Donovan’s words wouldn’t leave my head. They looped, over and over, burrowing into the parts of me that still remembered what it felt like to be human.

I didn’t know what to do with them. Didn’t know how to hold them, how to believe in them when all I could feel was the steady, gnawing ache inside me.

My blood thirst spiked. Hard.

I clenched my jaw, trying to swallow it down, but it was relentless, an unyielding drumbeat inside my skull.

My throat burned. My muscles coiled, strung so tight they felt close to snapping. And Donovan’s scent, his heat, his pulse, was everywhere.

I caught myself staring at his neck again, at the way his pulse fluttered just beneath the surface, warm and alive. My fangs ached.

I forced my gaze away, my fingers curling into the sheets beside me. I had fed. A rat.

It had been disgusting, the fur and flesh unbearable, but the blood had been wonderful. Hot and thick, sliding down my throat like fire, igniting something deep in my bones.

But it had been hours ago. Maybe even a full day ago.

The relief had been fleeting, barely a flicker before the hunger returned, clawing its way back up my spine, making me feel desperate again.

I clenched my hands into fists.Don’t look at him. Don’t think about it.

"You’re hungry." Donovan’s voice cut through my thoughts.