Chapter 9 · The Forbidden Painkiller

"Get your hands off me," Kane snarled.

He didn't move. He couldn't. He was pinned against the heavy oak table, chest heaving, eyes clouded with a hunger that had nothing to do with food.

I didn't flinch. My fingers stayed pressed against the jagged curse on his shoulder. The second I touched him, I felt it—a violent roar in his blood slamming into a wall. He shuddered, a broken sound escaping his throat.

"You're shaking," I whispered. "Is it hurting again?"

"Shut up," he breathed, voice ragged. "Just... shut up and don't move."

He didn't push me away. Instead, he leaned in, forehead dropping against my collarbone. He was burning. Liquid fire. I could feel the heat radiating through my thin dress, the scent of ozone and old blood clinging to him. It was terrifying. But there was a pull in my chest, like a string tightening between us.

"Why aren't you scared?" he muttered, breath ghosting over my skin. "Most people are screaming by now. You're just... standing there."

"I'm terrified," I admitted. My heart hammered against my ribs. "But you look like you're dying.