She meets my gaze, and I feel powerless myself. Because I am defenseless against these feelings.
I’m not sure I’m breathing. She has taken my breath away, my soul, my heart, my focus, myeverything—and she doesn’t even know it.
She’s my enemy, but she could be my savior too.
She could ruin me.
And I just might thank her for it.
Her eyes are fixed on mine. Her red lips part, and I want to feel that gasp on my skin. Her arms twirl above her head, she shifts her hips, she arches her back.
For a few moments the world doesn’t exist, my duty doesn’t exist, and I have the urge to use my powers to portal her away—sword be damned—to take her somewhere where I can worship her entirely.
Then, all at once, our gaze breaks. The man with the snake has tugged on her skirt.
I have never wanted to kill someone more in my life.
Before I can even take a single step forward, she’s gone.
I pace around, trying to give her time. Trying to give her space. Reminding myself that even though all my thoughts belong to her, she does not belong to me.
Why does that make me want to level a mountain?
Finally, I can’t take it any longer. She’s been in there long enough. What if she’s hurt? What if she needs me?
I stride through the tents and building, shredding fabric with my sword, ignoring the shouts that I’m not allowed back here. I pull apart curtain after curtain, until I find her, atop the thief, straddling his lap.
My blood runs cold.
“Don’t kill him,” she says, just as I realize I’m about to.
I glare.
“You look like you want to kill him.”
Of course I do. Even if she has already incapacitated the fool. “I want to kill a lot of people,” I tell her, trying to make her understand, trying to warn her away from me even as I simultaneously long to pull her closer. “Ikilla lot of people.”
It’s true. I’ve killed thousands.
I’m a monster. And pain has only made me more powerful.
She deserves better than me. I wish I was strong enough to let her go. But even I have limits.
She swallows, and my eyes go right to her throat. Right to her pulse. It’s racing, just like mine.
My self-control snaps. I stalk toward her, toward the wall she’s now leaning against. She has no idea the danger I pose. She has no idea, because she wouldn’t look so amused right now if she did. Her tone wouldn’t be so mocking as she says, “I got the information. I knowexactly where the sword is. Seems like I’m a perfectly good temptress. Tell me, nonpowerful Nightshade. Was I able to tempt you?”
I frown down at her. Does she have any idea who she’s trying to get a rise out of? Does she have any idea how much danger she’s in?
“Did I make you fall hopelessly in love with me?”
That’s it.
That cursedword.
She gasps as I pin her against the wall. The sword isn’t here, I know that now, so I release the vise I’ve been keeping on my powers.
Her emotions hit me like a battering ram. I’m suddenly tasting her want, her pleasure. It nearly brings me to my knees.
