Chapter Twelve #2
“You’re strong,” he said, voice low, grave. “But I’m not trying to push you off. I’m pulling you in.”
My breath caught. My body stiffened in recognition of a different danger.
Before I could process, his hands clamped on my hips and rolled them forward. Heat surged from the contact—not pain, not sensation exactly, but pressure. Position. Power.
My limbs went cold.
“There it is again,” he muttered, voice dark with curiosity. His claws traced up my side—slow, deliberate. When they reached my neck, his fingers curled loosely around it. No squeeze. Just a reminder.
“You show your fear so easily. I know exactly what unravels you.”
His other hand lifted, and a single claw grazed my cheek, careful, almost tender. “Look at you. Such a painful thing to behold.”
Always the compliments.
“Then stop looking,” I snapped, yanking his hand away.
He didn’t let me rise.
His grip on my hips returned, firm but not cruel. Anchoring.
“Why are you scared?” he asked, his tail curling slowly around my midsection. A visual whisper of dominance.
But that wasn’t the only thing I feared—not even close.
“I’m not,” I said too fast. “I just get tired of looking at your face.”
He leaned in slightly. “You’re afraid of what I might do. Not because of pain. Because you’d rather we fight. You understand fighting.” His voice dipped low, like a blade sliding into a sheath. “This? You can’t control this.”
His tail shifted, coiling with intention but not movement.
“You’d rather I hurl fire at you,” he continued, “than leave you wondering who’s really in control.”
“I’m not afraid,” I lied again, heart slamming in my chest. “You said it yourself—you can’t feel anything. So what’s the point of this?”
The moment I said it, I regretted it. I didn’t need to give him more to dissect.
He didn’t move. Didn’t laugh.
Instead, he tilted his head, studying me with sharp, burning eyes.
“Exactly,” he whispered.
“My blood still flows. The fire just gets trapped within,” he murmured. “The insides all function…as if the outside still could. As it is, you’re lucky I’m broken.”
His voice coiled around me like smoke. And then, without warning, he rolled my hips against his abdomen again.
“Do you know how easy it would be,” he said lowly, “to rip the fabric you’re wearing? To hold you in place, stretch you apart like your insolence begs for?”
Every muscle in my body locked.
A wave of heat rippled through me, even as shame rose to meet it. To feel anything from his touch or his words was wrong—completely and undeniably wrong. And yet, the spark was there. I clenched my jaw and held myself still, trying to suffocate the treacherous thrill spreading through my limbs.
He couldn’t feel touch, couldn’t taste or smell…and yet the weight of his attention made me feel more seen than I’d like.
His eyes narrowed. “You try so hard to hide your fear.” he said. “But I already see it.”
His tail pressed firmly against my back, guiding me forward until my face hovered just above his. The closeness rubbed us together—just enough to ignite a deeper panic.
I remained frozen. One wrong move, and this entire moment could shift into something I wasn’t ready to handle.
“What’s wrong, Kitten?” His voice turned mocking. “You usually have so much to say.”
I managed a smirk, though it cost me. “I’m starting to think you’re frustrated you can’t touch me like you want to.”
His jaw clenched, hard. “You think I want you?” he sneered. “The sight of you is repulsive.”
Yet his tail was still wrapped around me, keeping me pinned across his body.
“Good,” I spat. “The feeling’s mutual.”
And I meant it. But I couldn’t resist leaning forward just enough to spit—landing it square on his cheek. It trailed down slowly.
A deep, inhuman sound rumbled from his chest.
“You exist to test me,” he said, his voice distorted with something darker. “Keep showing me your fear…and I will show you what I’m capable of.”
Before I could react, he tossed me upright, seating me on his stomach like a trophy won.
His tail loosened…only to slip under the hem of my shirt. I tensed instantly, breath catching, body refusing to move. He saw it.
Gone was the flirtation. In its place? Dread.
“There it is,” he said with a gleam in his eyes. “Your fear. Not from my strength, not from pain—but from possibility.”
His tail froze at the edge of my skin.
“Terrified I might touch you,” he said, his grin sharp. “I can build that fear into something more…memorable.”
My face burned with embarrassment, but I didn’t speak. My body trembled against my will.
He watched me in disgust. Then, as if repulsed by the reaction, he withdrew the tail.
“I won’t touch what disgusts me,” he said coldly. “Not even with the part of me you loathe the most.”
With a flick of his tail, he lifted me effortlessly into the air and set me on my feet. His back stayed to me as he walked away, saying nothing else.
I could only stare after him, unable to stop my gaze from tracing the vast stretch of his back. For all his cruelty, all the darkness wrapped around him like a second skin—he still looked like a man. Or had been one.
That was the most dangerous thing about him.
Without turning, his voice echoed through the dim chamber. “Food’s in the next room. Don’t waste time trying to escape. Hell bends to me—and I won’t hesitate to restrain you if I must.”
My thoughts scattered—to my father, to my siblings, to the slow unraveling of the worlds we’d fought so hard to protect. A tide of shame rose in my chest. I was a prisoner. And yet…
Yet, something about him unsettled more than just my mind.
I clenched my jaw and pulled the shame from my shoulders like an old coat. I was more than a Reaper’s daughter. I was more than someone’s sister or soldier.
I was also a woman. And that meant I could see him for what he was—both beast and man—and still fight against him. Still resist him.
Still win.
This wasn’t the end for me. It couldn’t be.
If I stayed here, if I let him cage me with fear, or confusion, or twisted chemistry—I’d never be free. Not truly.
I turned toward the room where he said food waited, but I made a silent promise to myself: I would escape. I would return to my family. And together, we’d fight to save the human world and stop the fading.
Because no matter how deep into Hell he dragged me, I refused to belong to it. Or to him.