Adrenaline sets my limbs in motion. I kick and scream, pounding his steel chest with my fists, shaking as much as I can to break his grip.
But that’s so fucking useless, isn’t it? This Rodin is powerful, and he’s fucking stacked with muscle. I can’t even imagine what kind of strength he’s holding back.
Because surely, hemustbe holding back.
Otherwise, I’d already be dead.
My eyes widen as the corner of his mouth sharpens. Like the prick is about to reveal a sinister smirk.
Fuckingasshole.
“Go on,” he taunts. “Keep trying to get away. I have eternity to wait.”
I swallow. “Let go. Please.” I can’t help the weakness in my voice.
But I can’t take any more pressure.
This is too much. Can’t Tessa do something? I mean, how thefuckam I going to contact my sister when I’m in the basement with her brother-in-law squeezing the life out of me like some gigantic boa constrictor?
My lips dry up. My tongue shrivels up in my mouth. Despite the desert sprouting in my throat, I manage to croak, “Please, Darius. It hurts.”
“I can make the pain stop if you tell me why you’re down here.”
“I alreadytold you.”
His grip relaxes slightly—but I don’t mistake that for him letting up. He’s just preparing to do something else. “You’re sure this is the route you wish to take?”
“It’s the only route, fuckface.” My heartbeat quickens. I know he can hear it. I’m a fly caught in a trap and he’s a spider who’s about to eat me. All systems are set topanic.“Put me down.” I raise my fists weakly. It’s no use. Hitting him is like punching a goddamn brick wall. But I have to try.
If I don’t try…
“I said let go!”
He shakes me. It makes my head smack the wall. Stars dance in my vision as I stare numbly at him.
Jesus Christ, he’s about to kill me, isn’t he?
His pupils grow large. “I’m not letting you go until I make sure.”
Make sure?Of what?
And just how is he going to make sure?
I don’t have time to ask, to evendemandhe tells me. He tilts my chin, nuzzles my neck, and pierces my flesh with his fangs.
About a dozen training sessions surface. It’s Jasper speaking. Then, it’s Tessa. Then, it’s my mother.It’s like a training video playing through my head. Once again, my body betrays me—I respond to Darius like it’s any normal feeding.
But it’sfarfrom normal.
Then, all those voices fade away. Only a face remains. It’s a face I’ve seen plenty of times before, one with rugged features and rich chestnut eyes. Onyx hair curls around his forehead. Swollen muscles pull taut the striped shirt he wears, the blazer over it, the thighs of his slacks.
It’s Darius. He looks gorgeous.
Fury forces me to shove his shoulders. It’s a bad move during a feeding even a brief one. I could make him tear out my throat.
But if he really wanted to do that...
His grip tightens.