When he spots me, he pauses just briefly before sighing. “You’re still up.”
“And you’re hiding from me,” I retort.
He chuckles humorlessly. “I’m a stalker, baby. I’ve always hidden from you.”
“Stop it,” I snap.
“What do you want, Adeline?” he asks sharply, his frustration mounting.
“Dammit, Zade, I want you. I’m sorry that Rio gets to live, okay? Jesus, it’s one of the very few things you’ve let me have power over, and you’re making me feel guilty…” My voice trails off when he storms over to me, fear clogging my throat.
In seconds, he’s standing before me, gripping my jaw in his hand, and pulling me up until my knees barely touch the bed. I squeal, clawing at his arm, but he doesn’t relent.
“You love to pretend you’re so fucking helpless, just like a little mouse caught in a trap. If that’s what you want to be, I can show you what it truly means to be powerless. I can show you what it means to be me.”
My eyes widen with bafflement, my nails digging deeper. “You?!” I echo, aghast from his implication.
“Yes, me!” he shouts. “I have no goddamn control when it comes to you. I lost it when I saw you in that bookstore and never got it back. You think me stalking you was control? Drinking from your body despite your cries? Do you think I have it right fucking now?” he growls, shaking my head to emphasize his point.
His eyes are blazing, dilated with both fury and something so potent, it burns me alive.
“You’ve said it yourself, I could use your body for my own pleasure, but what’s one thing I could never take from you? What’s the one thing I wanted the most from you, Adeline?”
“My love,” I cry, tears welling and spilling over.
“That’s right. Your love. The only thing I’ve ever needed from you. You are the one with the power, you’ve just never known what the fuck to do with it.”
It takes several moments, but slowly, it dawns on me. His words finally fucking process through the thick skull God cursed me with.
Zade gave in to every one of his darkest instincts because he never possessed the control to stop himself. He took, and took, and took because it was the only thing he could take. But that never made him powerful—it made him helpless.
Until now, I could never make sense of that when he’s always done what he wanted. Stalked me, touched me, fucked me whenever he wanted. No matter how many protests fell from my lips, or how many times I fought him.
He chased me when I ran, pulled me back when I pushed him away, yet would worship me at my feet if I asked him to.
And I finally understand why. One cannot wield power if one does not have control over it.
“Glad to see you finally take over the throne,” he murmurs, frustration radiating from his mismatched eyes.
I shake my head, retracting my nails from his arm and gently prying his fingers away from my jaw. He releases me, brimming with energy.
&nbs
p; “I’m not taking over the throne, Zade. You are the throne. You’ve always been my pillar of strength, and I’m sorry it took so long to see it.”
His gaze searches mine desperately, hunting for any hint of a lie. It would be like finding an active bomb. The second he discovered it, it’d tear him to pieces.
Slowly, I stand from the bed, backing him away from me until I’m on both of my feet. He doesn’t give me much room, but I don’t want it.
My heart pounds, and I drop my eyes, watching my hand rise to meet his heated flesh. He nearly burns to the touch, and I’ve never wanted to be consumed by fire more.
The pads of my fingertips brush across his defined muscles, beautiful tattoos, and the white scars slashing across several parts of his torso. My knees weaken while I focus primarily on the dragon running up his chest.
God, if that creature doesn’t embody the man standing before me, I don’t know what does. A fire breathing dragon capable of sending me fucking soaring.
Flattening my palm on his stomach, I push him away, almost fascinated by the way he relents without resistance.
“Take that off,” I order, glancing at his towel, my voice trembling with desire. He stares at me, his silence loud and chaotic as he heeds my command.