Page 36

35

She is mine.

She has always been mine.

And yet, they dare.

Rad—a filthy, impudent demon beast—dares to touch her. To fill her with his filth. To lay claim to what does not belong to him.

And that human. That fragile, insignificant thing who should have long since succumbed to forces he cannot possibly comprehend— lingers at her side. Polluting her with his warmth. His devotion.

It is insufferable.

I stand at the threshold between worlds, cloaked in the comfort of darkness. The fabric of the Evergloom hums around me like a living, hungry thing. The veil is thin here—in the places she does not see, where shadows slither in whispers and bleed into her world unseen.

I feel her. Even now. Trembling in that fool’s embrace. Panting from his touch.

A snarl curls my lips.

They have no right.

She is not theirs to cherish.

She is not theirs to protect.

She is not theirs to love.

She is mine.

Mine to torment.

Mine to break.

Mine to devour.

And I have been patient. I have waited, allowed her to play her foolish games, to deny what she knows to be true. Allowed her to run, to fight, to pretend that she has ever had a choice.

But patience is a luxury I no longer possess.

The time for games is over.

The time for games is over.

A low, bitter chuckle rumbles in my chest as I peer through the threads of darkness surrounding her—into the quiet corners of her existence where I have always watched. And now, I see him. Rad. The interloper. Whispering soft, meaningless words against her skin, trying to soothe her. Promises meant to anchor her, to keep her tethered to him.

He thinks he can protect her.

How quaint.

How utterly, laughably wrong.

But I have learned something.

A delicious secret, buried in the way she quivers under their hands… The way her body sings when it is claimed, worshipped, ruined.

I once believed her fear—her dying breath—would be the sweetest thing she could offer me. That her death would be the ultimate feast. The most intoxicating nectar.

But I was wrong.

Her lust.

Her desire.

The heat of her pleasure?—

It sustains me in ways I never imagined, strengthens me beyond the way her terror never could.

And lately, I have tasted it, savored it.

Not just from her. From him. The human. That stupid, trembling boy. His tether feeds me like a vein pressed against my lips. Every time he touches her—every time he dreams of her, moans for her—I drink from him. Slowly. Quietly.

And it’s been enough…

Almost.

But not quite.

Because to truly break through, to shatter the light that keeps me at bay—I need more. A spark. A burst of grief, lust, and terror combined. A kill.

Two should do.

A slow smile curls my lips.

R?dslakorcu and the human may believe they have claimed her—but they do not understand what they hold. Only I understand the depths of what she can give. Only I can take her as she is meant to be taken.

No more waiting.

No more restraint.

The Evergloom is waiting.

She will scream for me.

She will beg.

She will break—and be rebuilt in my name.

And when she has been stripped of all she clings to, when she lies raw and broken, there will be no more denial.

Only submission.

Only surrender.

Only mine .