Page 21 of The Contract

And a black mask.

A masquerade designed to form to his face, hiding everything but the line of his mouth and the flicker of darkness in his eyes.

“Do you know who I am?” he asks, using a damp cloth to wipe the blood from my wrists.

Genuine curiosity threads through that otherwise intimidating tone—like this moment matters to him.

Like he’s tucking it away to chew on later, deciding whether a straight blade or a hacksaw fits the mood.

I swallow the tremble before it hits my voice.

Do not show fear.

I blink once. “Zorro?”

A pause.

Then, he chuckles.

A low, rough sound that catches me off guard. Too normal. Too human.

And for whatever reason, that’s somehow worse.

His mouth tips into a smirk, and a dimple flashes.

Of course he has a goddamn dimple.

Because why wouldn’t the brooding beast have something beautiful to ruin me with?

“Zver,” he says, voice like gravel. Two strong syllables. Za. Vare.

His gaze drops, trailing down my body. Not hungry. Not crude. But like he’s taking a break to notice a work of art.

Like something precious carved in marble, and he’s admiring every curve, every flaw…his gaze is a tangible feeling against my skin. I lean into it.

“Zver?” I repeat, tasting the unfamiliar word.

A slow nod.

“It’s what you can call me,” he murmurs, voice thick and unhurried. “Feel free to use it when you curse…” Dark eyes find mine again. “Or scream.”

Heat prickles across my skin, and not just from those two, devastating words. I nibble my lip, suddenly unsure.

Is he expecting a name in return?

Because I’m not giving it to him. Nope.

Mostly because, with the heat of him pouring off in waves and my nipples tight against the flimsiest bra I own…

Right now? I genuinely don’t remember my name.

Without a word, he assesses me.

Not fast. Not threatening.

Just…breathing me in.

My heart slams once, hard, like it’s trying to escape through my ribs.

---