Page 206 of Nine-Tenths

It's so fast that his hand is gripping my chin viciously, the claws pressing into my cheeks, my back pressed to his front, before I realize what's happened.

Two: I get very,veryscared.

Once, a long time ago it feels now, Dav had scared me. Dav's fangs, and claws, the way they slid so easily into my arm. It was just one moment, and never repeated. I never feared him again. Was shocked by it, yes. Swooned once, yes. Terrifiedforhim when he'd frenzied, sure. But scared of Dav himself? Never.

I'm scared now.

Three: Simcoe hauls me into the sunken pit. My jacket tears off in Dav's fist. I freeze up as he drags me around, not daring to struggle with his claws so close to my jugular. His other hand slides across my chest, disgustingly intimate, before coming to rest at the base of my throat.

Now is not the time for a panic attack,I scold myself, even as my lungs burn and my whole body starts to shake.Keep your shit together!

Four: Silence falls so quickly it's as if the whole population of Whitehall has been sucked into a blackhole. And then, filling the void left by the horrified shock of watching a dragon lay hands on another's Favorite—lay hands with the intent toharm—a collective sound of disgust and alarm crashes across the rafters like a tidal wave.

Five: Dav screams. And I meanscreams.

There is nothing remotely human-sounding in the noise. It's a shriek like tearing metal, filled with fury and fire. Literally. Sparks leap off his tongue. His eyes blaze golden, glowing with the fire he's stoking in his throat. His fingers curl into black-tipped, wickedly sharp talons.

I swallow hard, fighting against the impulse to surge forward, wrap him in my arms, calm and soothe his unimaginable agony at seeing his treasure so violated. But I'll be slashed open if I try.

Simcoe grips my face harder—why the face, it's such a weird and personal place to grab, soshowy,but so awkward—and I suck in a stuttering breath that makes Dav pause. He shifts from foot to foot, like a jungle cat aligning his balance before pouncing, eyes wide, watching for his opening.

"He iswrong," Simcoe snarls, his voice right in my ear, his elongated tongue lashing hard enough that I feel it flick against the shell of my ear. I wince, and Dav's attention roots to that spot, lips curling back to reveal fangs. "Yet you insist on having him! I sought to release you from that, sought tosave youfrom your terrible choices, and yourefusemy guidance!"

The handshake,I realize.

"That's not for you to decide," Dav counters. "He asks only to be treated as my equal in an inescapable bond he unknowingly consented to."

"He wears your token! And yet you let him commandyou!Disgraceful!"

Dav's temper.

"I love Colin! I will not allowanyoneto define the terms of our relationship," Dav hisses. "Least of all a poaching, heartless—"

"Poaching!" Simcoe laughs. "Poaching, boy?" He gives me a hard shake. A small prick under my jaw, and blood trickles down my neck. I don't dare lift my hand to wipe it away.

"Get your hands off him."

He touched me on purpose.

"Not until you submit to me," Simcoe snarls. "Not until you admit that your place is subservient to me."

"If you hurt him further I'll—"

Simcoe laughs again, harsh and cruel.

He is touching me on purpose, right now.

"You'll what?" he sneers. "Rip through him to get to me? Murder another Favorite?"

Another collective gasp of shock, another shrieking scream from Dav.

And then a sixth thing happens: Iunderstand.

"You tried to make himkillme," I say. "Just like you made him kill Charlotte."

Chapter Fifty-Three

In literary terms, a 'climax' is the moment of highest point of tension in a storyline, often in a confrontation between the protagonist and antagonist. In this case, me, and the man who is one heartbeat away from literally slitting my throat. The climax resolves the main conflict of the story, in the moment the main character reaches their goal.

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