Page 95 of Bound to the Dreadlord

I dig my nails into his shoulders, dragging him closer, tilting my chin up to meet the force of his need.

And for a moment, there is nothing else.

No past. No future. Just this.

Just us.

Heat coils low in my stomach. My pulse pounds.

His fingers slide into my hair, tilting my head back, deepening the kiss.

My knees buckle.

He holds me up, and he stops.

Just like that.

Gone.

He rips away from me like he’s been burned, his breath ragged, his hands still clenched into my clothes like he doesn’t want to let go.

But he does.

Slowly. Painfully.

His expression is unreadable, his silver eyes wild, flickering with something dangerous.

Something he doesn’t understand.

Something he hates.

"Veylan—"

He turns. Leaves.

He’s gone.

My lips still tingle. My breath is still uneven.

I press my fingers to my mouth.

The monster kissed me.

And I kissed him back. All over again.

I’m falling for this fire that keeps burning between us again and again.

What is happening to us?

35

VEYLAN

The war room is colder than usual.

Not from the chill of stone or the ever-burning braziers casting a dull glow against obsidian walls.

No, this cold is a presence.

---