It takes everything, every ounce of concentration, every strained breath, to keep her on her knees. She’s bowed before Sebastian’s feet, as if praying to his altar. And with one hand still aimed at her, I do the same to the man with a buzzcut. He’s harder to contain, especially one-handed.
He is a rabid dog, ripping against my magic like it’s his chain.
Blood splatters.
Another man’s head hits the floor, and seconds later, it’s joined by yet another. They must be the two from behind us. I don’t recognize their faces, but their eyes are as haunted, as empty as the two still alive.
“Fuck,” Sebastian growls. “Good job, Grace.”
“What are you going to do with them?”
The man is dead before I finish the question.
“Master—”
The woman is dead before she finishes hers.
We’re surrounded by mangled, decapitated corpses. Five of them. Six if you count the one from minutes ago.
Six lives, vampire or not, are gone because ofme.
“I’m sorry,” I say again. Back to trembling, cowering, even though I know it wasn’t my fault, not really.
“Come, little witch,” he says.
I’m back in his arms, eyes closed, only opening them when I hear Oskar’s voice.
“Hells!” he shouts. “What happened?”
“Get Cora!” is Sebastian’s only response.
He hauls us into my cell. Slams the door. Falls back against it. I’m still in his arms, but I don’t try to get down at first, and he doesn’t loosen his hold.
“Sebastian,” I whisper finally.
My feet hit the floor, but his hand lingers around my side, fingers brushing the sliver of skin between my shirt and shorts.
Maybe it’s the adrenaline.
Maybe it’s the near-death experience.
Maybe it’s the stricken look on Sebastian’s face, like he was terrified forme.
It’s stupid, to believe it had anything to do with me. I know what I am to him: a device. A weapon. A curse breaker.
None of that keeps me from grabbing his collar. From pressing my bloodied hand to his hair, pulling his mouth against mine.
There’s a momentary pause, when Sebastian’s lips are motionless, hard. Just as I’m about to pull away, he breaks.
He surges forward, slamming me against the wall. It is only his hand that keeps my head from hitting stone. He shifts, cupping my face with both hands, tipping my chin the way he wants. He kisses me like he’s been waiting his whole life for this one moment.
I may have started this kiss, but there’s no doubt who’s in control now.
Sebastian growls—literally, freaking growls—into my mouth. His tongue dominates mine. Exploring. Tasting.Claiming. All the while, he’s pressing closer, one hand wandering down my side, skimming over my breast, until it reaches my hip. His hand lingers there, tracing the exposed skin.
A pathetic moan vibrates my lips, and I’m too desperate to feel embarrassed. Sebastian grunts in response and shoves his thigh roughly between my legs. It’s instinctual, unavoidable, the way my hips seek his. I’m shamelessly grinding against his leg, moaning and trembling, like I’ve never been touched before.
I let out another breathy moan, and Sebastian’s mouth trails from mine to my cheek, to my jaw.
