12

F or the longest moment, I stare at the Prince of Darkness, contemplating, thinking, and debating what could possibly go wrong. A part of me is gravitating to him, to the man sitting on the chair, legs parted, elbows resting on them as he watches me. The other part is screaming for me to throw the door open and launch myself out of this room and far away from him.

He doesn’t actually want to do this.

But as the thought comes over me, I stop fiddling my fingers behind my back and push a step forward. “I have a few things to cover first.”

Dane hums so deep I feel it between my legs. “Go on.”

“Do you still want to kill me?”

He thinks for a second, pushing his tongue against his inner cheek. “Yes. If anything, I want to kill you more.”

I huff. “I’m being serious, Dane. I won’t kiss someone who plans to put a stake through my heart.”

He tilts his head. “You are a mortal, not a vampire. Or did that somehow slip your mind? I could kill you without lifting a finger.”

Glaring at him does absolutely nothing. He doesn’t falter. I’m about as scary as a puppy.

“You’re all talk,” I say boldly. Stupidly. Just to add to the growing frustration in his deep eyes, I keep going. “If you were going to end my life, you would have done it already.” I tip my chin. “You’re bluffing.”

His eyes darken a fraction. “What makes you think I’m bluffing?”

“Actions speak louder than words,” I respond, crossing my arms. He’s still on the chair, looking handsome and laid-back and annoying. “You aren’t going to kill me.”

“We shall see, mortal.” His brows raise as he says mortal , and I want to slap his face. “What else?”

I gulp, unsure if the feeling washing over me is the intensity of his hooded gaze or the image of him being the last person I see before meeting my end. Maybe both. “This is for an assignment.”

“Obviously.”

“We do this once, for the assignment.”

“Five times,” he replies, a slight smirk touching his lips. “You said we need to do it five times, a minute each time. For the assignment of course, as you keep mentioning.”

Instead of humoring him, I tense my jaw, flip my hair behind me, and look out the window above his head. “I don’t know how it works in your realm, but in mine, consent is important. I won’t kiss you without you being okay with it. For this entire assignment, consent will be discussed. If you don’t want to do something, I’ll refuse to go ahead with each task. If I’m not comfortable, you will stop. Failure or not.”

I zone my gaze to him as Dane leans back in the chair, the wood creaking. “Do actions not speak louder than words?”

Is he talking about the time we shared a bed and he dry-fucked me? Held me until we fell asleep? The image of him sliding his cock against my panties has me flushing bright red.

He clears his throat, and the internal clip of him grabbing my thigh, lifting it to get a better angle, vanishes.

“No. Words, Dane. Verbal consent or nothing. A person’s body can betray them in the worst of ways, so we’ll use words.”

I can’t believe I’m even talking about this with him. The first time he ever looked at me, I thought I’d die on the spot. Now, here I am talking to him about consenting to a kiss.

If I’m dreaming, or stuck in a nightmare, I’d like to wake up now. I nip my hand, and I don’t wake up in my bedroom. I’m still here.

Dane looks at me like I’m a lunatic. “Very well. If it makes it easier for you to sleep at night, I consent to you walking over here and leaning down to kiss me for this assignment. Good enough?”

“Is there a reason why you’re sitting?”

“I’m considerably taller,” he replies. “You would struggle to reach me if I was standing.”

I roll my eyes, dropping my hands to my sides. “Fine.”

But neither of us moves, and after a few seconds, Dane braces his hands on his knees, as if he’s getting ready for a fight. The ink mocks me—the symbols I’ve been studying, the writing I have no idea how to translate.

“I have another question.”

He sighs. “Of course you do.”

“How did you get your tattoos? I highly doubt there was an artist in your realm, considering you have no idea what anything normal is.”

“I do know normal things. I don’t know what half of human inventions are. That’s all. And as for the tattoos, when one comes into great power, they are branded by that power.”

I look at him, confused. “So, no one actually tattooed you? They just… appeared?”

“Technically, no. I was born with mine. I have always been branded. Any other questions?” His tone is snappy, as if he’s getting fed up with being asked about himself.

I try to imagine a baby version of Dane with tattoos and fail. “No.”

“Very well.” He gestures to the floor in front of him. “Any day now. I may not be growing old, but you definitely are.”

How dare he? “You know, being rude isn’t helping.”

He inhales, holds it, and lets it out through his nose. “Will you please hurry the fuck up and come here? You’re overcomplicating it.”

For a beat, I debate in my mind if this is even happening. Since day one, this idiot has repeatedly called me names, messed with me, and threatened to kill me. Yet here I am, taking one step after the other, the distance between us eliminated with each step. “I still don’t like you.”

“The feeling is mutual, little mortal.”

“I loathe you,” I counter. “Detest. I wouldn’t hesitate to step on your foot with my sharpest stiletto. In fact, we need to dance together at the ball—I’ll do it then.”

“Cute. I look forward to watching you embarrass yourself. Can you even dance?”

No .

Dane chuckles.

He’s sitting as calm as a cucumber, his sleepy gaze following my slow footsteps towards him. Gravitating. A pull so strong, I can barely breathe. With my shoes nearly touching his, I watch his Adam’s apple move in his throat as he looks up at me. Cocky, yet under the voided shell he’s trying so hard to hold up, I can tell he has some nerves.

His eyes shift at my proximity—once green, now the brightest silver, almost as if he has the full moon in them. With him not bothering to stand, I forcibly kick his legs open wider, making sure it hurts.

Well, it might have hurt a human, but all he does is smirk at me as I lean down and rest my hands on his knees. He’s making no effort at all, and for that, I dig my nails into his legs. But all he does is raise a brow. “This is all a little over the top for one kiss, do you not think?”

No, I’m nervous as hell, and you’re acting far too calm.

The corner of his mouth curls into a half-smile, and I shake my head. “Shut up. Can you make your eyes green again? So it feels like I’m kissing an ordinary person.”

I lower to my knees between his legs, but annoyingly, he still towers over me. With lazy eyes on my face, he eliminates some of the distance by leaning his elbows on his knees. “I can’t control them.”

I sigh. But deep inside, butterflies are going wild as his scent reaches me. No, not butterflies. Dragons are having a battle, with flames and wings and roars. “What does?”

He drops his silver eyes to my mouth and then back to my eyes. A flicker, but I see it. “My mood.”

“Why am I not surprised? I swear you are the most depressing person I’ve ever had the displeasure of spending time with.”

He fights a grin, and his eyes shift back to green, and he at least looks human now. “I don’t usually know when it happens.”

“They’re silver a lot around me, so I guess being pissed off brings them out.”

“Something like that.” He huffs. “Are you done? We have wasted nearly twenty minutes on you being a drama queen over nothing.”

“This isn’t nothing. We need to kiss, Dane.”

Hands grip my hips and pull me closer, but Dane’s haven’t moved. I look down, my pulse instantly spiking. With his shadow hands holding me in place, Dane slants his head, so I lift my gaze to clash with his. “It’s nothing. Stop talking and close your eyes.”

I go to speak again but shut my mouth. My eyelids fall, and everything around me turns to darkness. He’s looking at me, and I can feel his breath against my face, as if he’s leaning down.

“Do you consent to me doing this?” he asks in a whisper, shadow fingers digging into my hips. Not painfully but enough to make my body hum in response. “Do I have your permission to do…” He dips his head fully, and my heart hammers in my chest. His lips are a breath away, and when his nose nudges mine, he takes my bottom lip between his teeth, pulling back until it snaps into place. “This?”

I swallow, nodding slowly, both in sync with each inhale and exhale.

“Words, mortal,” he hisses. “Follow your own rules and give me fucking words.”

“Yes,” I breathe. “Do you?” I tilt my head back, and our lips touch softly for a split second before I ease back to look at him. A low vibration floats between us.

“I do,” he replies, and without hesitation, he snatches my nape and smashes his lips to mine.

It’s like a bomb goes off around us. A halogenic reaction as our combined forces desperately grab for anything to be completed, intensifying with the low groan Dane lets out.

Something tugs inside me as I break the connection, a rope to my chest, yanking me closer to Dane as I press my mouth to his to feel the detonation once more.

It’s a rush between us, and it’s addictive. He must feel it too because his heart is racing as I lift my hand to his chest, pushing him against the back of the chair.

Fuck .

The word echoes between us, and it’s his low voice, his muttered four letters. It repeats as I pull back ever so slightly, looking into his silver eyes, at his dark lashes, smooth skin, and razor-sharp jawline, before kissing him again. Harder. Crushing my mouth to his.

He tastes exactly as I expected.

“Is this okay?” I ask him because I can feel his discomfort building. It’s like a sixth sense between us now. “We can stop.”

“Quit cutting us off before one minute,” he says against my mouth. “It’s fine.”

Liar , I think. He is hating this.

Dane’s lips are softly caressing mine as his ghost hands trail up my sides, settling at my ribs. I gasp into his mouth as, with one swift move, he tugs me to my feet and into his lap, my legs to each side. “When I say it’s fine, I mean it’s fucking fine.”

With his grip on my nape still, he snakes his arm around the small of my back, drawing my mouth to his once again. Our lips part as I settle in his lap, Dane running the tip of his tongue against mine.

I never thought I’d say this, but I’m kissing my worst enemy. The guy who wants me dead. I’m sitting on him, kissing him, with his tongue moving against mine like a starved animal.

His fingers slide into my hair, the other hand coming to replace the shadow on my hip. I try not to gyrate my lower half, even though bolts of electricity are ricocheting through my body, screaming for me to feel him between my legs.

Dane’s grip tightens, pushing me back on his legs to keep me from feeling his obvious erection.

I’m not sure, but I think the minute necessary for this first kiss of the task is up.

Reluctantly, I say, “That’s probably enough for the assignment.”

“Yeah,” he replies, our noses nudging, both breathless, swollen lips magnetized together once more.

We aren’t stopping. If anything, it gets deeper as his tongue slips into my mouth with more hunger before he traps my bottom lip between his teeth and then kisses it.

I reciprocate by sucking on his tongue, tasting him, devouring him.

A deep groan pulls between us, and Dane caresses his mouth to mine again. I’m warm, as if the room is heating up. I want to remove our clothes and feel skin on skin, bare, naked, sweating and writhing in pleasure.

His hands explore everywhere they can in my uniform.

Still straddling him, I squeeze my thighs to his sides to cause some sort of friction, and he hisses but doesn’t stop me. If anything, he’s encouraging me by pulling away from my mouth and kissing along my jawline.

My head tilts to the side to give him better access, and a moan slips from me as he nips the sensitive skin beneath my ear and sucks on the flesh.

I bury both hands into his hair and draw his mouth back to mine, and when he growls into my mouth, my pussy clenches, and heat builds at the base of my spine.

Our souls beg to intertwine—a desire, a need so strong I think I might pass out. Each time we connect, more shadows appear in the room—the ground, the ceiling, the walls full of them. I can hear some of them, repeatedly saying words I can’t decipher. They aren’t the same as the ones that keep me company in my room. These ones seem… hungry and desperate, with an insatiable thirst for something.

We keep pulling away before the one minute mark. I don’t think either of us is focusing too much on the time.

All I can focus on is the way his body fits so well with mine, the way his lips feel against my own, and the darkness surrounding us.

“Ignore them,” he orders in a low tone, noticing me slowing down and staring at the masses of black. He grabs my shirt and tugs at it to bring me back to his face. “They can’t see us, mortal. They can only feel us.”

His mouth is like a dark sin. Each lick and slide and bite bounces off every nerve ending. Twisted thoughts rush through me of how his mouth would feel between my legs, and how his hair would feel between my fingers as I rode his face in only my skirt.

I want to hear his language fall from his lips while he’s screwing me. To feel all of him as we complete each task, each assignment, each dance at the ball, each time our eyes clash and the atmosphere changes. The shattering energy alone could destroy the entire universe.

God, I want to fuck this man. I hate him. I truly do, but sitting in his lap and tasting him, it’s like something is overriding that hatred. Nothing makes sense about how I’m feeling about this – I should hate it. I should be grimacing at the thought of Dane Dalton touching me, kissing me, whispering against my skin in a language I don’t recognize.

I gasp loudly as a flash of images slam into me, but they’re all too fast, too much to concentrate on. The moment lasts merely a second, but as I freeze in his hold, he watches me, searching my face.

“What is it?” he asks breathlessly. “What did you see?”

I can hear a hint of hopefulness in his tone, but when I shake my head and try to close the distance between us once more, he stops me.

He rips himself away to stand, setting me on my feet.

I instantly feel cold.

His jaw is tensing, his pants tented with his own arousal as he backs away from me, like he’s afraid of me. “That’s enough.” His voice is shaky, and he runs both hands through his hair and down his face. “We’re done here.”

I nod. Trying to catch my breath, I suck my bottom lip into my mouth, still tasting him. “That was weird.”

He drops his hands to his sides, eyes narrowing. The tall, muscular man who swallows all the air in the room couldn’t look more offended as he shakes his head.

Flustered, Dane asks with a clenched jaw, “Weird? Explain.”

How do I explain the past few minutes? “Just… weird.”

“Great.” He grimaces. “Fucking weird,” he mutters to himself, and I frown as he glances up at me. “I can read your thoughts, or did you forget the other ten times I’ve had to remind you? You didn’t find it weird. And I wasn’t going to fuck you. This is an assignment, and that’s all it is.”

I raise a brow, flicking my eyes down to the tenting of his pants. I walk behind the chair he sat in, gripping the wood, ignoring the ache between my legs. “The assignment is done. You can leave now.”

“You think you can dismiss me? This isn’t even your room. It’s a classroom.”

“Yes.” I walk to the door and throw it open because I don’t have powers like him to blow it off its hinges or teleport into different parts of the castle. “Leave, before I make you.”

“And how do you suppose you’d make me?”

I cross my arms. “I have a loud scream.”

Blankly, he stares at me and studies me. “I see.” He glances up to the ceiling, frowns, and glares back down at me. “Four more. Don’t make it as awkward next time.”

I scoff and look up, my eyes widening at the lick of flames spreading across the ceiling. Like they’re dancing, shrinking back until they’re nothing but black tendrils burned into the paint. There’s no heat, no smoke, no smell of something burning.

“What was that?”

He doesn’t give me an answer.

Sunlight floods the room then, blinding me as the air shifts, and his entire form warps in front of me until he’s gone. The classroom grows ice-cold, so cold I can see my breath in puffs. I rub my arms, look around, and swear to myself.

Task three has started, but I still need to kiss him four more times before the timer runs out.

Something awakens in me when I’m around him, and I’m not sure how it makes me feel.

Alive, yet dead.

Free, yet trapped.

It’s the biggest confusion, like there are so many questions I need to ask, but I don’t know the words.