Page 40 of Bound By Crimson
The slit in the skirt promised danger, the garter clips gleaming against her thighs like whispered threats.
Her hair tumbled wild and dark around her shoulders, lips painted in deep wine, mouth lush and reckless.
And her eyes—
—her large brown eyes—
Burned with something feral.
Not fear.
Not shame.
Hunger.
She straightened her spine, rolled her shoulders back, and let herself feel it.
The weight of her body.
The weight of her want.
For once, she didn’t shrink away from it.
She didn’t try to bury it or tame it.
She owned it.
This was who she had always been—
The girl who wanted more.
The girl who was done waiting for permission to take it.
By the time the clock struck eleven-thirty, her heart was already pounding.
There was no fear left in her blood now—only heat, only need.
She pulled on a long black trench coat, buttoned it up to her throat, and slipped her feet into low heels.
Thomas was waiting outside.
She stepped out into the night—
Dressed in velvet and shadows,
Walking straight toward whatever waited for her beyond the dark.
Chapter Twelve
Gravemoor
Thomas slowed the car at the gates of Gravemoor Castle. The tires crunched to a stop on the gravel.
“I’ll wait here,” he said quietly.
Lyric nodded, already reaching for the door. She paused only long enough to unfasten the coat. She couldn’t let him see her for the first time in a trench coat—not tonight. She slipped it off, folded it onto the seat, and stepped into the night.
The night was thick with fog. It curled around her ankles as she stepped outside, whispering across the pavement like it knew her name. The air was cool and damp, with a scent of earth, stone, and something older, something forgotten.
