Page 52 of The Madness Within

It opened slowly.

Dorian stepped inside like a thunderstorm walking on two legs. Shirt rolled to the elbows. Eyes pitch black. Power bleeding off of him in waves.

“That episode,” he said, voice low, “wasn’t part of our arrangement.”

I smiled. Sweet. Sharp. “But it wasn’t the truth either. I didn’t say your name.”

“You painted it in blood.”

I stood. Slowly. Deliberately.

Let the silk of my robe fall open just enough to show skin, nothing obscene, but enough to make his gaze twitch.

“You said I could speak. I spoke.”

He crossed the room in a blink. One hand grabbed the arm of my chair. The other landed beside my throat, not touching, but close enough that the airflared.

“Do you like this, Ember?” he whispered. “Poking the monster and pretending you don’t want it to bite?”

My pulse fluttered, but I didn’t flinch.

“I think you want me to poke,” I breathed. “I think youlikeit.”

His eyes burned into mine. The air thickened. Warped. His power, which could be mistaken for magic, was clawing at the walls, pushing at the edges of his restraint.

“You don’t know what you’re inviting.”

“Then show me.”

A beat.

Then two.

His hand closed around my throat, not tight, justenough.

I didn’t flinch. I leaned into it.

His lips were inches from mine. Heat radiated between us. His breath smelled like blood, bourbon, and control that’s about to shatter.

“You want to know what I am?” he growled.

“Yes.”

His grip tightened.

“Then beg.”

“No.”

He let go, violently. Spun away, fingers buried in his hair like he’s trying not to tear himself apart.

“You’re going to destroy me,” he muttered.

I crossed the room, slowly. Bare feet. Bare skin. Bare honesty. “Maybe,” I said. “But you’ll burn me first.”

He turned back.

And this time, he didn’t step away.

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