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“I will always find you,” I told her, barely hearing my own voice over the frantic beating of my heart. I frowned at the hint of fear seeping through the bond and let go of her.

“Rythos,” she gasped in disbelief, eyes wide and filled with panic.

“What are you scared of, Little Drownling?” I murmured, the primal part of me enjoyed her fear, wanted to force more out of her. But the part that was me felt wounded by it. “Do you fear me?”

Hunt. Kill, the darkness inside me seethed.

I shoved it down, ignoring the cold sting of pain as it punished me.

Her face seemed to relax as she looked around the room, and she let out an unstable breath.

“I am dreaming,” she said to herself in an almost dazed state. An unsettling smile spread across her full lips. Tears glimmered in the candlelight as they slid down her flushed cheeks. “This isn’t real.”

Everything faded, becoming transparent like smoke and floating away in a breeze that did not exist.

“Wait.”

I reached for her desperately. But my hand passed straight through her. Panic gripped me.

The room warped, dissolving around me.

I blinked, and the familiar floral portrait in my bedchamber snapped into place.

I had painted it after becoming High Lord of Obsidian Court. It was one of the many places that still haunted my dreams, though I had never understood why. I had no memory of this place, yet the deep purple and blue hues of the petals felt like they were a part of me.

“Looking for me?”

I spun towards her taunting voice and instantly stilled. Lyra stood before me in a lacy, translucent slip that barely covered her.

The swell of her breasts jiggled as she walked towards me, and her rosy, pink nipples peaked through the shimmering fabric.

I tore my eyes from them to meet her sultry gaze.

“We need to talk, Little Drownling.” I hated the words even as I said them, but it was true.

She leant forwards, breasts pressing against my bare skin as she tiptoed. Her hands wove through the back of my hair, fisting it to pull me towards her. To press her lips against mine.

My hand closed around her throat—not enough to hurt, but enough to stop her. Her pulse fluttered beneath my fingers. It nearly undid me.

“Stop,” I rasped, though I did not know if I was warning her, or myself. “You are upset with me, remember?”

She didn’t listen. She never fucking did.

Her breath brushed my lips as she pushed against my hold. Warm. Defiant. Too close. Every instinct inside me snapped tight. My grip flexed, just slightly, grounding myself before I lost what little control I had left.

“This is real, love. It is the bond pulling us together,” I murmured, my voice rough, fraying at the edges as her scent wrapped around me.

So fucking sweet and intoxicating, and after knowing how good she tasted, it was impossible to ignore.

“No… it’s just a dream,” she whispered, as if my words had never reached her. “My mind is giving me what I need to survive.”

My jaw tightened as I held her there, stopping her from closing the distance between us, her pulse fluttering with need against my thumb.

“Survive what?” I asked, the words filled with something ugly that restricted around my heart. “Being bonded to Helion? Is he not treating you well, my love?”

Her eyes flared wide, tears welling in them before she blinked and cleared them. A mask slipped over her features so I could not see her feelings.

For any other man, it may have worked. But I was not a man. I was her monster. And I could scent her heartbreak in the air like a dampened breeze after heavy rain.