Page 44 of Fanged Secrets
There was something off about her. Her eyes were dark, almost hungry. But it wasn’t the insatiable sensation of lust, she was poised like a predator waiting to strike. I froze, my heart hammering in my chest.
Dylan was deadly still, a stone statue with eyes that tracked my every movement, a terrifying hunter cloaked in shadows. Her gaze fixed on me with an intensity that made my blood run cold.
She was motionless until she wasn’t.
The transition happened in a heartbeat, and I could do nothing but shriek when her fangs came out and Dylan lunged for my throat.
Chapter 23
Dylan
The scent hit me like a sledgehammer as soon as I entered the apartment. My heightened senses zeroed in on it, and my mind went into overdrive. The fragrance was intoxicating, stirring something primal and ravenous within me. It was like nothing I had ever experienced before. My vision tunneled, and my throat burned with a fierce, unquenchable thirst.
I stuck to the shadows, padding silently through the dimly lit room. Stalking my unsuspecting prey. My fangs elongated in my mouth, and my claws extended from my fingertips, sharp and ready to tear. The hunger was all-consuming, overriding any semblance of rational thought.
Fractured, half-formed thoughts stirred somewhere in the back of my mind, but they were clouded by the fierce hunger. The desire to feed thrummed through my veins. The beast in my chest told me to relinquish my control, to give in to pure primal instinct as I had many years ago.
My meal was near the sofa, oblivious to my presence. Vulnerable. Delicious. I had stalked many like her before. I had trailed my prey through the streets of New York. Hungry. Always hungry. I had fed by the light of the moon, in dirty bathroom stalls, behind the movie theater. I had left drained corpses in my wake.
The beast pounced on these thoughts, coaxing me to let go. I crept closer, each step silent and deliberate. I was born to hunt, to feed. Nothing else mattered. I wanted to taste fresh blood on my tongue.
When I was close enough to ghost a hand over her shoulder, she turned.
My nameless prey smiled like she was happy to see me. Her expression coaxed a memory from somewhere in my head. I knew this woman, this was a familiar face. That couldn’t be right. A small voice was calling me to remember, to restrain myself. But the beast roared over it, drowning out any cautionary warnings.
She must have seen the switch, the monster taking hold, because her smile faded quickly, her eyes widening in shock. But it was too late to run. I lunged at her, my body crashing into hers with the force of my frenzied need. We tumbled to the ground, and I pinned her beneath me. Her mouth opened in a silent scream, and she struggled, helpless. And I was hungry.
My fangs were inches from her throat, and I could feel her pulse, a tantalizing rhythm that drove me further into a frenzy. The roar in my mind was deafening, drowning out everything but the primal need to feed. I inhaled her scent, the thirst consuming my very being, and prepared to bite down.
But the woman lifted her arms, not to push me away but to hold on. She clung to me, her fingers digging into my arms. She whimpered beneath me, but held my gaze, murmuring incoherently. I ignored her pleading eyes, my jaw itching to closeon the soft, pale flesh of her throat. But a word reached my ears, and a prickle of electricity shivered over my skin.
“Dylan…”
I froze, staring at the woman beneath me with fresh eyes. There was something about her. Something the shrill voice in the back of my mind was begging me to remember. The beast urged me onward, but I held back, rolling the name on my tongue, catching it between my teeth.
“Dylan.” She said it again, more firmly this time, though her voice was hoarse with fear.
Her touch, desperate but incomprehensibly gentle, was a lifeline pulling me back from the brink. Her eyes, wide with terror, bore into mine. She didn’t fight me; she reached out to me, touching tense, quivering fingers to my cheek.
The spark on contact was a shock to the system and the memories came flooding back, drowning out the wailing beast that clawed and thrashed in defeat.
The mating bond pulsed between us, a connection that couldn’t be severed by mere instinct. Her touch was soft, her fingers brushing against my skin, and something in me began to crack. The haze began to lift, and I could see the real Amara in front of me, not just a vessel for my insatiable hunger.
“Amara?” I whispered, my grip loosening. I could feel the bond between us, the fragile yet unbreakable link that anchored me to her. She was my mate, I remembered, and hurting her was the last thing I wanted. Recognition flooded in, replacing the primal hunger with sheer horror. Amara’s terrified eyes were fixed on mine, and I saw tears welling up, her breath coming in deep, shaky gasps.
“Amara!” I said it louder, my stomach churning with regret as I wrenched myself off her. “Shit – I’m so sorry!”
I ran my hands through my hair, crushed under the weight of what I’d almost done. Amara looked shaken but unhurt, her eyes still wide with fear.
She signed her words with shaky hands, watching me warily as she sat upright. "I'm all right."
I dropped to my knees beside her, my hands trembling. “What happened? How did I – why –”
Amara winced and drew her knees up, cautious like she expected me to launch myself at her again. But despite her trembling body, she managed a small, dubious smile. Her hands moved again, shaking violently, but conveying her familiar grim humor. “Shouldn’t I be asking you? You’re the one who jumped me.”
“I – I don’t know why I did it.” I admitted, my voice barely above a whisper. Internally, I felt awful, sick with the realization that I had allowed my hunting instincts to take over. I had no idea what had come over me, what drove that primal hunger to such an insatiable degree, only that Amara’s touch had brought me back.
"Your scent was overwhelming," I signed tensely. "More so than usual. I can still feel its effects, even now."
