But I was.

And he knew it.

A chuckle vibrated against my lips, dark amusement curling at the edges of his kiss.

"You taste sweeter when you tremble," he murmured, dragging his lips along my jaw, his breath searing against my skin.

His mouth traced the shell of my ear, lingering as he whispered, "Say my name, little dove."

My lips parted, but no sound came.

Cassian clicked his tongue, his fingers trailing down my throat, pressing lightly over my pulse.

"Still pretending you don’t want this?"

His teeth scraped against the column of my neck, and I gasped.

God.

I didn’t know what was worse—the terror curling in my stomach or the wicked pull of something deeper, darker, coiling inside me.

My mind screamed that this wasn’t real, that I was alone in this room, that no one was touching me—but my body, my traitorous, trembling body, knew better.

"Don’t worry," Cassian purred, his lips brushing over mine once more, teasing, taunting. "You’ll give in soon enough."

And then—he was gone.

The weight vanished.

The air in the room stilled.

I sat up with a sharp gasp, my body shaking, my lips still tingling from a kiss that shouldn't have been possible.

But when I looked down, my fingers trembling over my thigh, I saw it—

A faint, bruising handprint.

Real.

17

LENA

My breath came in short, ragged gasps.

The imprint of his hand still lingered on my thigh—faint, darkening.

Real.

My fingers brushed over the bruised flesh, and a shudder rolled through me.

"Did you miss me already?"

The voice came from nowhere—everywhere.

A soft, teasing croon that sent a wave of cold fire down my spine.

Then—heat.

A hand at my waist, slow, possessive.

A whisper of lips at my temple, warm breath fanning across my skin.

The air thickened, my vision blurring as the shadows around me moved.

I turned my head, and he was there.

Cassian.

Dark-haired, sharp-jawed, eyes burning with something unholy.

He looked exactly like the phantom I had dreamed about since childhood—the man I had sketched with shaking hands in notebooks I didn’t remember filling.

And now, he was close.

Too close.

Before I could speak, before I could even breathe, his fingers slid along my jaw, tilting my face up.

"Still trembling," he murmured, his thumb dragging across my lower lip. "Are you afraid of me, little dove?"

I was.

And yet—

My body betrayed me, leaning into his touch, burning under the soft scrape of his nails as they traced my skin.

Cassian's mouth curled into something between amusement and hunger.

"Lena," he whispered, savoring my name like a secret. "Let me show you what it means to belong to me."

His lips brushed against mine, a ghost of a kiss—soft, teasing, barely there.

It was maddening.

My breath hitched, my body going taut as he hovered just out of reach.

Then, he took.

His mouth crushed against mine, a kiss that was nothing like the hesitant, innocent ones I had known before.

This was possession.

Dark, slow, all-consuming.

His lips parted over mine, his tongue slipping past in a languid, claiming stroke that left me gasping.

Heat coiled low in my stomach, a dangerous, dizzying pull that I didn’t understand.

I should fight.

I should push him away, scream, run—

But his hands tangled in my hair, tilting my head back as his tongue deepened the kiss, stroking against mine, drinking in every broken breath I gave him.

My fingers clutched at his shirt—solid.

Real.

He growled against my lips, the sound vibrating through me, setting every nerve alight.

"So eager," he murmured, his mouth trailing along my jaw, down the column of my throat.

His teeth grazed my skin, a warning, a promise.

I whimpered.

The sound made him laugh.

Cassian pulled back just enough to meet my gaze, his thumb tilting my chin up.

His pupils were blown wide, black swallowing the deep, endless gray of his irises.

His lips were red from kissing me.

My lips were red from him.

"You taste like fear," he murmured, dragging the pad of his thumb across my lower lip, smearing the wetness there. "And something sweeter."

I tried to speak, but my thoughts felt tangled, drowned in the lingering heat of his kiss.