Page 11 of Feral

I spun around.

Blaylock stood at the entrance, his arms crossed over his broad chest, his horns seeming to scrape the arched stone above him.

I swallowed hard, my face heating from his compliment.

“I watch you,” he admitted. “Lurking in the shadows like the beast I am. Just admiring how innocent and fragile you are.”

Blaylock watched with those ever-unreadable black eyes.

I felt this need to be honest move through me. “I watch you, too.” My heart raced. He hummed as if pleased with what I said.

He stepped inside the garden. The door closing behind him, like an invisible force wanted us sealed in. Then, to my surprise, he walked to the massive, stone bench nestled between two thorny trees and sat down, holding out his hand for me.

I hesitated, then crossed the garden and sat beside him, the heat from his body washing over me and warming me instantly.

For a moment, we said nothing, only letting the peaceful silence and stillness fill the grand space.

“You’re not like the other humans I’ve met,” he finally said, voice low. “You didn’t cry or beg.” He looked at me, the corner of his mouth lifting. “Even in the face of horror, you stayed strong.”

“I’ve wept plenty of times, believe me,” I said honestly. “I just don’t let anyone see.” I stared at him, my heart thudding.

“I can’t seem to stay away from you, little bird. I watch you because I can’t look away.”

My breath caught. He shifted his body to face me fully now, and I saw raw desire etched on his face.

And I was right there with him.

“I’ve ruled this realm with an iron fist. With blood and gore and violence. Keeping this land under my domain is the only way to make sure it doesn’t fall into the hands of those who would ultimately destroy it,” he said. “I’ve built these very walls and littered corpses over my lands to ward off anyone who thinks to take what’s mine. And yet…” He didn’t finish the thought. He didn’t have to.

I shifted closer before I realized I was doing it. “You don’t have to be gentle with me,” I whispered. “But you don’t have to hide, either.”

The silence between us crackled with electricity. I felt it—undeniable pull and desire. That tension between us of equal parts restraint and something darker. Something hungry.

And I was suddenly starving.

“I’ve never taken a queen,” he said, his voice a growl now. “Never wanted one. Until you, my little bird.”

My breath hitched.

And then he reached out, his clawed hand gentle as it cupped the side of my face.

I should have pulled back.

Instead, I leaned in.

The moment teetered on the edge—of fear, for the monstrous desire I felt… of something that was permanent.

And when his mouth descended to mine, hot and rough, it wasn’t uncertainty or fear I felt.

It was surrender and hardcore need.

8

KATRINA

“Katrina,” Blaylock growled, his deep voice vibrating through the night air like a rumble of distant thunder.

Despite us being seated, his massive frame loomed over me, the veins of blue-glowing crystal beneath our feet casting an iridescent sheen on his gray skin.

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