Chapter 6 · The Source

Dorian grabbed the back of my jacket and yanked me sideways.

A ceramic plate exploded beneath my boot.

Blue current snapped across the metal grate where my foot had been.

I slammed into him. His hand caught the back of my neck before my skull hit the railing. His thumb pressed beneath my ear, right over my racing pulse.

For one breath, neither of us moved.

His pupils had gone black.

"You're shaking," he said.

"I'm furious."

"Your pulse says otherwise."

"Your hand is on my throat. Maybe it's reacting to that."

His grip loosened, but he didn't step away.

We were barely a breath apart. Cedar and warm skin filled my lungs, tangled with the copper bite of blood from the bond-split across his palm.

My eyes dropped to his mouth.

Damn it.

He noticed. Of course he noticed.

"Mara." His voice sank low.

"Don't."

"Don't what?"

"Don't say my name like you still have a right to it."

His thumb dragged beneath my ear. Slow. Careful.