“Landon,please.” My voice cracks. “You’re gonnakillhim.”
His eyes finally flick to mine—and for a second, I don’t recognize them. That ocean-blue is swallowed in darkness, and it feels like looking into the eye of a storm thatwantsto destroy something just to feel calm again.
But then…He blinks. Breathes. The pressure in his hand loosensslightly.
The man gasps, sucking in air like it’s the last thing he’ll ever taste.
Landon leans in, so close the guy flinches like a dog expecting a bullet. “You’re still breathing becauseshetold me to stop,” Landon whispers in a dramatic manner, that makes the hair on the back of my neck stand, and the man below him quivers, eyes darting to me as if I am his only salvation. “Now do the smart thing.”
He shoves the man to the ground. “Thank her.”
The guy scrambles up on all fours, wheezing. “T-thank you,” he croaks at me, face twisted with terror, before bolting like the ground behind him might explode.
Landon watches him disappear. Then turns to me.
His chest is rising hard. His hands still flexing like they’re reluctant to be empty.
I don’t move. Don’t speak. I just stare at him—this man who smells like salt and smoke and violence, who holds people like they’re weapons and yetlistenswhen I say stop. I stare at him like he holds the answers to life, because he holds more secrets to the universe than I do.
“Peach…” His voice lowers, rough with adrenaline and need. “You did good. You called me.”
“I didn’t know who else to call.”
He steps closer. His hand grazes my jaw. Just once. Just long enough for the heat to replace the panic.
“You were a good girl for me,” he murmurs, voice gone dark and gravel-thick—like whiskey poured over fire. “You listened. You trusted me.”
“You’re supposed to protect me.” I say just above a whisper, as his hand curls around the back of my neck, rough and steady, pulling me into the space where his breath hits mine. He smells like smoke and rain and danger barely held together with skin.
“Well, then Peach, I am going to need you to do something else.” He whispers against my lips, stealing every ounce of oxygen from me.
“What?”
“Kiss me,” he breathes, his grip tightening in my hair. My heart jumps out of my chest as I look at the ocean in his lidded eyes. “To keep the monster quiet. He’s…loud tonight.”
“Landon—” I gasp, instinctively pulling back, but his hand is already at my waist, anchoring me in place.
“I would never hurt you,” he growls, low and deadly-soft, voice scraping against my jaw like a blade dragged over silk. “But you made me release my prey, Peach. How am I supposed to feed him now?”
My breath catches as his mouth ghosts the edge of my skin. My body ignites, panic and want bleeding together into something molten.
“Just a kiss?” I whisper, catching his gaze—no longer oceanic, but nearly black.
His lips barely move. “Just a taste.”
I blink. Once. Twice. And then I nod.
I don’t mean to.
But it’s already too late.
His mouth crashes into mine with no warning, no hesitation—all need.It's not soft. It’s not sweet. It’sdevastation.
He crashes into me with a hunger that feels like war—like he’s fighting something inside himself and I’m the only weapon that works. His mouth moves over mine like it belongs there, like he’s claiming territory, tongue rough and deep, pulling breath after breath from me until I’m dizzy.
My fingers claw at the front of his shirt before I even realize I’ve moved, gripping him like I’ll fall without him. He groans low in his chest, something primal and broken, and deepens the kiss until I swear the ground tips sideways.
His teeth catch my bottom lip—sharp enough to sting—and I gasp. He swallows the sound, pulling me tighter, pressing me into the wall like he wants to bury himselfin me, and for one terrifying, electric second, Ilet him.
