Page 85 of In Between Darkness
“Doyou know? If I had been there just a minute later, you probably wouldn’t be here right now.”
He looks away, and I swear I see a watery sparkle in his eyes.
“Thank fuck Oriah can speak to me too.”
“Oriah told you to come for me?”
That’s how he knew I was in trouble. He nods, but I can still see through his frustration.
“I’m grateful that you saved my life.” I pause as the image of Alex’s disfigured face remains clear in my mind. “But you took it too far, just like you did with River. You would have killed them both if I hadn’t been there.”
I bow my head, thinking about whether I should continue. “It’s you; you’re dangerous.”
He takes to his feet. “ALEX FUCKING DESERVED IT!” His anger erupts as he paces around his room. “He would’ve killed you, Asha.”
I am taken aback by his sudden outburst of emotion. I stay quiet, and his anger simmers a little as he sits back down. “You’re right, I am dangerous… I’m a goddamn Moon, Asha, we all are.” His voice cuts through me like a knife. “It’s about time you got that into your fucking head.”
I have tried to ignore the horror stories and rumours about the violent predisposition of Moons since I met him, but it’s getting harder to ignore.
“Would you have killed him if I wasn’t there?” I ignore his outburst and remain levelheaded.
“I-I don’t know,” he stutters and breaks his gaze.
“What do you mean you don’t know?”
“I mean, I don’t know, Asha… I don’t know when it comes to you.”
Silence fills the room, and I stare at him in all his beauty.
“When I saw him hurting you, all I could think about was how many ways I could make him suffer.” He buries his head in his hands. “Maybe I am dangerous, but I would never hurt you.”
He looks up at me with those eyes, those eyes that can romanticise anything, those eyes that render my knees weak and soften my composure into putty. Those stories never mention a Moon risking their life to save someone else, not to mention another race. Then it hit me. He did it for me. Maybe all the things I feel for him, those dirty thoughts that swirl around my mind. Is it possible he feels them too? It might be the concussion talking, but all I can think about is grabbing him and kissing him.
I sit up and rest on my knees, fighting through the winces. My arms wrap around Ryder’s slick neck; he is still damp from his shower, and he smells like dark vanilla. I brush my lips gently up his neck until I feel him quiver. I can tell he likes it, but he is putting up a fight.
“What are you doing?I’m toodangerous for you?” He uses my own words against me, but I ignore him and kiss his neck harder. He tries to resist but lets out a small groan. My soft lips then caress him all the way up to his ear.
“And yet somehow I can’t seem to stay away,” I breathe gently into his ear.
He turns his head to face me with lust in his eyes. We connect, and for a moment, I don’t feel any pain. He licks his lips, and I realise we are doing this. I feel his strong grip thread through my auburn curls.
“My little stalker.”
He grabs the small of my back in one hand and cups the back of my head in the other. I dip into the pillowy mattress as he gently lays me down onto my back. He is so close to me I can feel his breath on mine. I breathe him in. A moan escapes my mouth, and the butterflies swarm frantically in my stomach. He tenderlypresses his weight onto me, being careful not to trigger any of my pain points. But in this moment, I don’t care; I just pull him in closer. I look up and down at his lips. They look juicy and shine under the dim light, compelling me to taste them. He’s in control, as he leans in and our lips meet. With each kiss, a spark ignites between us, sending a rush of heat through my body. Every nerve within me reacts. His kiss is passionate and urgent, filled with an intensity that takes my breath away. I tangle my fingers in his hair, pulling him closer as his hands roam around my neck, pressing me against him. The world around me seems to fade, leaving only the warmth of his body on mine. The taste of him is intoxicating, a mix of sweetness and danger that makes my heart race. His tongue pleads for entry, and I welcome it, my taste buds tingling with the heavenly taste of him. We pause for breath, then he pulls me in even harder to resume our kissing match. He releases and trails down my neck, pressing his lips against me with gentle kisses. I moan and run my fingers through his dampened locks as I feel his hand slide up my top to rest on my breasts, giving them a light massage with every peck. I’m so out of control, my hands roam around his body, itching for something to grab onto. They make their way up his strong arms and follow his shoulder blades down to his back. His smooth skin becomes littered with ridges, and my fingers trace each one before Ryder stiffens momentarily and backs away. He tenses and retreats to the bottom of the bed. I lie there perplexed and frustrated at his hot and cold actions, still hungry for the rest of the main course.
“Is something wrong?”
“You’re concussed… You’re not thinking straight.” His response is quick and to the point.
“Ryder. I’ve thought about kissing you every day since we met.”
I sit up and shuffle closer to him, reaching out to rub his back as a form of comfort. I am stunned into silence, and my breath catches in my throat when I notice the ridges I felt are scars. I see pain etched into his features. It’s not entirely obvious because he is too damn proud to be vulnerable. I examine each silvery, raised mark, some bigger than others, scattered randomly around his back and ribcage.
“But that’s not why you stopped, is it?” I trace them again. “These scars, where are they from?”
He turns to face me, his eyes dark and stormy, fluctuating with a sense of vulnerability and defiance.
“It’s nothing,” he replies, but the slight tremor in his throat betrays him. He flinches from my touch and gets up, putting on his hoodie and stepping into some tracksuit bottoms.
