Nyxara Azrael’s fingers were still slick from me when the scream ripped through the corridor—high, wet, abruptly cut short.I eased his hand away and stepped forward, silk whispering back into place between my thighs. The scent hit first: fresh blood, hot and coppery, thick enough to taste.No surprise who stood at the center of the mess.Vuk cradled his little moon against his chest like she was spun glass, her crimson gown stark against his black. Severed hands lay on the stone behind them, fingers still twitching, blood pooling in perfect crimson arcs across the obsidian floor.I scoffed, rolling my eyes so hard the torches flickered.Azrael pressed against my back instantly, lips brushing the curve of my throat in soft, lazy kisses that did nothing to hide the sudden steel in his voice.“What is it with you and her?” he murmured, breath warm against my skin. “The southern girl.”“Nothing,” I said, the lie sliding out smooth as infernal whiskey.He chuckled—low, dangerous—and cupp
Last Updated : 2025-12-20 Read more