8.

Lash

The dark has always been associated with danger. I can understand that. I'm dangerous too at times. I watch as Mega runs into her house, her terror palpable even from this distance. She discovered the truth tonight, saw the abandoned shell that was once my home. The fear in her eyes, the way she screamed my name and pounded on the door—it's all etched into my memory.

Poor girl.

I need to see her, to explain. I can't let her think I'm the monster she's imagining. When the moon is high and the night is at its deepest, I move towards her house and break in.

The door opens silently, and I step inside. The familiar scent of her home wraps around me, a stark contrast to the emptiness I live in. I navigate through the darkened house, my steps silent on the wooden floors.

Her bedroom door is slightly ajar, the rough sound of her breathing reaching my ears. She's having a nightmare. I push the door open, my heart pounding in my chest. She's lying on her side, facing the door.

The moonlight kisses her face and I've never been jealous of the moon before but now I am. Only I am allowed to caress her and I silently move across the floor, stopping in front of her bed and look down at the wondrous creature. She's so strange, so beautiful. A dark and lovely animal that knows how to love a man the way he needs to be loved.

I zero in on her mouth, so perfect it could belong on a sculpture and the smell of her fills the room. Orchids. They have a habit of mimicking the scent of other flowers I've been told, flowers like roses and hyacinths but she mimics no flower. She is unique and exotic and I stroke the side of her throat. The touch makes her shiver, but she remains still…and then she must sense that somebody is in the room with her. Her hauntingly beautiful eyes open and she parts her mouth as if to scream.

But she stops when I put my fingertip against my lip, letting her know that I want her quiet.

She understands, and then her lips pull in a smile before her arms reach out for me. I'm welcomed. She always welcomes me. Even when she doesn't, even when she tries to hold me at bay.

"What are you doing to me?" she whispers, swallowing.

"Nothing you don't want me to," I rasp, getting on top of her and our bodies were created for this. We fit so fucking good together. We're the same.

"What do you want?" she asks hoarsely, her fingers finding their way into my hair.

"I just want to be loved, Meggie," I whisper, my voice soft but urgent and her eyes flare, recognition colouring them.

"It's you…," she breathes and I nuzzle her throat, before taking the opportunity to remove my clothes and then I drink in the sight of her naked body. She's so perfect that I die a little.

"Don't be scared. I'm not going to hurt you. It was just a little game."

She says nothing, her eyes searching mine, trying to figure me out.

"I need you to understand," I continue. "That I'm not like other guys. Just like you aren't like other girls. We're different."

"Bad?" she whispers and she has been so brainwashed her whole life that I feel a flare of pity. Her eyebrows knit together in confusion, but she still doesn't push me away.

I put more of my weight on her, sinking into her. "Different," I just say.

She swallows hard, her voice barely above a whisper. "Do you really just want to be loved?"

"Yes."

She bites her lip, a tear slipping down her cheek. I reach out, my fingers gently brushing it away. "I want to be loved too, Lash," she whispers.

Relief floods through me, and I lean in, my forehead resting against hers. "You will be," I whisper. "I'm going to love you so good, you won't remember your life before me."

Her lids flutter and when she looks at me, her eyes shine with gratitude. All she ever wanted was for someone to suppress her pain.

"I won't let anything happen to you," I vow, my voice firm. "Nobody but me will ever touch you."

"N…no men in uniforms will ever take me away?" she whispers, and I close my eyes knowing that this angel never did anything that warranted that type of mistreatment. She was born into the wrong family that's all. They couldn't handle the feistiness in her but I can.

"If they do, I'll kill them before they such a single hair on your head."

My lips come down on Mega's. An electric charge surges through my veins, igniting a fire that threatens to consume me. The softness of her mouth, the warmth of her breath, the way her body melts against mine—it all fuels the dark, obsessive hunger that has taken root deep within me. My hands squeeze her breasts, her buttocks, my tongue flicking over every place where she's naked.

I crave her with a desperation that borders on madness. Every kiss, every touch, every sigh from her lips only deepens my need. It"s not enough to just hold her, to feel her against me; I want to possess her, to make her mine in every way possible. The thought of another man touching her, seeing her, loving her—it drives me to the brink of insanity.

My hands roam over her, claiming every inch of her skin. I can feel her heart pounding beneath my touch, echoing the frantic beat of my own. I trace the line of her jaw, the curve of her neck, the delicate rise and fall of her chest. Each touch imprints her deeper into my soul, binding us together in a way that feels both exhilarating and terrifying.

The scar on her collarbone catches my eye, a reminder of the pain she"s endured, the battles she"s fought. It fuels my rage, a burning desire to protect her from anyone who would dare harm her again. I would kill for her, without hesitation, without remorse. I would end anyone who tried to take her from me. This primal, protective instinct pulses through me, making my grip on her tighten, my kisses more urgent.

I pull her closer, our bodies merging when I enter her, and the intensity of my desire threatens to overwhelm me. Her scent, her taste, the tightness of her—it"s all I can think about, all I want. My world narrows down to the sensation of her, the way she moves against me, the way her fingers tangle in my hair, the soft sounds she makes as we lose ourselves in each other.

Jealousy coils around my heart like a serpent, tightening with every passing second. The mere thought of her with someone else, of another man eliciting the responses that only I should provoke, fills me with a dark, possessive fury. I am the only one who can touch her, the only one who can make her feel this way. She is mine, and mine alone.

The intensity of my obsession is terrifying, even to me. It"s a dangerous, consuming force that threatens to engulf us both. But in this moment, with her lips on mine and her body pressed close, I embrace it. I let it guide me, let it deepen my connection to her.

Picking up the pace, I kiss her harder, pouring every ounce of my desire, my need, my obsession into it and she eagerly meets my thrusts. I want her to feel how much I crave her, how desperately I need her. I want her to understand that she is the center of my universe, the only light in my dark, chaotic world. And when we erupt, she bites her lip not to scream, her thighs shuddering around me.

As I pull away, my breath ragged, I look into her eyes. The intensity of my feelings for her is reflected back at me, and it fills me with a sense of possessive satisfaction. She is mine. Body, heart, and soul. And I will do whatever it takes to keep her safe, to keep her with me.

Forever. And nothing, no one, will ever change that.