Naked, Graysen stood before me, scarred, tattooed—resplendent.

His sheer physical size enhanced by the shadows.

Breathtaking in his beauty.

I still hadn't looked down, instead, I kept my unwavering gaze on his face while wondering what the hells I'd done.

The shock of what I'd invited, the utter recklessness of it, was a slap in the face, and it snapped me out of the wild desperation that had ensnared me. I hadn't been thinking. I'd been feeling, caught up in the wretchedness of death and grief and the hopelessness of being bound to the Horned Gods. How they held us, insignificant, in the palm of their hands. At the whim of their will.

All I wanted was to feel alive. I'd survived that bloodshed in the temple, when what had happened to Elyse could so easily have happened to me. What had happened to her parents could have happened to my family. I'd wanted a moment of respite from the soul-devouring guilt that I'd survived when they had not.

And I'd blatantly incinerated Graysen's clothes, silently asking for something for which I was no longer sure I was ready.

I stood, frozen, the broken, rotten alder tree behind me. The atmosphere had changed. Now it crackled with intense uncertainty from me and, from him, pure hunger that scraped against my skin with sharp teeth.

Graysen flicked messy locks from his forehead with his hand. Only the cowlick didn't settle into place. The hank of hair slipped back down, dipping just above thick eyelashes. The shine in his black eyes was almost otherworldly—the shine of a beast that hunted at night. The glint in their midnight depth was the edge of a sharpened blade—fixed on me.

What had I been thinking?

I closed my eyes, gathering my courage.

Don't think, don't think, don't think—just give in.

And Graysen could do that for me. He could let me feel something other than overwhelming desperation and grief—a heavy weight tied to my ankle pulling me down, down, down beneath the surface of an algae-choked pond.

His voice was low and seductive and rich with challenge. "Look, little bird."

He taunted me to open my eyes, and I did.

Graysen's essence was the cold snap of dawn, but there was lightness too. His soul lingered in the shadows, and I thought that was fitting since the gloom of the night had settled around him like a cloak. His hand snaked down, but I kept my gaze on his eyes, staring back at me heavy-lidded. "Take a good, long look."

I swallowed, hard, my hands clenching and unclenching at my sides.

Inhaling a deep breath, I let my gaze slowly drift down the tattooed throat, broad shoulders, muscular chest branded with a wyrm and inked with fire, the ripple of abs, and lean hips with the V...

Holy Skalki!

Graysen began to lazily stroke himself, that thick, heavy cock, stiff in his fist. My mouth went dry as I took in his size. The length and thickness, the glistening crown.

Oh my gods...

"What do you want, little bird?"

What did I want?

But that was a ridiculous question since he was standing before me utterly naked and I couldn't take my eyes off his fist, moving up and down that exceptional length.

Except—

Except, I was going to use him and the knowledge just added to the miasma of wretchedness and guilt fouling the gaping hole in my chest.

That thing that existed between us shimmered against my skin, a melodic whisper, urging me to take what I needed.

Just give in, don't think...let go of the grief...

His cedar scent wrapped itself around me, scrambling my senses, and despite myself, I watched him. That fist, moving languidly up and down, sent arousal spiraling through me, dampening my panties and making a heavy, throbbing ache beat between my thighs.

His low rumble of laughter had my eyes widening and darting back to his. He purposely flared his nostrils and tilted his head. He knew it, scented what my body craved, even if there was still a small part of me unsure.

"What. Do. You. Want?" he said darkly on the verge of a bark.

My mouth was an arid desert, my tongue sluggish. I barely pushed the word out—

"You."

But there was more, and didn't he deserve my honesty? Like our kiss in the well of water, I wanted his truth. I'd wanted him to kiss me the way he wanted to, and now, with this, I wanted the same. I looked at him beneath my lowered lashes."Your truth. It's not your darkness, nor your light." It had always been in the shadows where he resided. "It's your shadows I want most."

I wanted his heart as well, but I didn't say that out loud.

His question twined around me like mist, cool and damp and unexpected. "You want my shadows?"

Was I ready for this?

I nodded because the air had tightened in my throat and my heart thundered against my ribs.

One thick eyebrow rose and the pleasure that gleamed in his eyes was both carnal and sensuous as if I'd caressed him. I'd pleased him, and stupidly, stupidly, I realized far too late, I'd freed him.

While I'd never feared him, there was a small sliver that always knew I should have. This was a man not given to mercy, who dominated ruthless crime lords and crushed anyone who dared cross his authority. His hands, broad and roughened from his skill with the blade, had ended lives and stolen souls.

The change that came over him was swift and menacing and this time I gave into that sliver of fear. It erupted, swirling through my veins, stuttering my heart.

I took a hurried step back.

Dominance and hunger vibrated from him. Desire, too. He was a starved wolf wrapped up in beauty. While it was true he was made of shadows, they only existed between the play of light and darkness...and right now his darkness was barely leashed.

Muscles flexed and rolled with his predatory gait as he stalked closer, naked, his cock pointing at me. With the murkiness of the stormy night, he was smoke and shadows, a glint of white teeth.

I held up my hands, suddenly terrified. "Wait."

The gold in his eyes glittered—pleased. He liked me this way, off-kilter and afraid.

I took another step back and sideways, keeping him in my sight. That's what one did with an untamed animal—slow, careful movements. My heart was a wild, erratic beat in my chest. One side of his mouth curved up in male satisfaction, as if he felt it vibrating in the air, inside his own chest too.

"Wait," I needed to...what...what did I need? Time to think this through? Plan for it? Change my mind?

"Too late, little bird. I've waited long enough."

I closed my eyes. What do I want?

Distraction? To be able to pull in a breath against the guilt crushing my lungs? To feel alive?

I couldn't hear his footsteps, no crunch of leaves and dead matter to give him away, but I felt him moving closer, hunting me, animal bright eyes burning my skin.

It was only a brief moment of consideration, so when I opened my eyes, fear speared through me to find he'd disappeared from sight. He'd circled behind. I whirled to face him, but he kept pace, moving behind me, nothing more than a beast with claws and fangs. "Stop!"

"Stop. Wait. Yes. No," rumbled from him, almost angrily.

This time when I turned, he had stilled, waiting for me to catch up. He was so close, too close. I stumbled back a few steps, and something rough and solid jarred into my lower back. It was one brief motion of glancing away to see the fallen alder tree blocking my retreat and when I twisted back he was flush with me, barely an inch between us. He towered over me, his stance humming with threat, intimidating me with his size and the fierceness of the dark promise glowing in his eyes. "I know what you want, little bird—the desperation and need to feel alive after so much death, even if it is my cock pushing into your wet heat."

His words should have offended me. His stance should have terrified me enough to spin around and swift. But something hot and molten twisted inside of me, flaring through my core. Arousal, I realized, shocked at the idea that fear and arousal could mix so effortlessly.

The heat of his body scorched my own when he chewed through the scant distance separating us. He braced his hands on either side of me on the rotten trunk of the alder, bending slightly so his face hovered close but above so I had to arch my neck to align my eyes with his, the air held in my lungs.

"If you want me. If you want to use me as a distraction..." My spine locked and heat scorched my cheeks as I chewed the corner of my bottom lip, ashamed that I could be so easily seen through. But he didn't seem offended. His gaze sharpened on my lips. "Say 'cock.' I want to hear the word spilling from your pretty mouth."

The word rolled off my tongue before I could think further, more breath than voice.

Pride and satisfaction burned in his eyes making those flecks of gold shimmer just before his next curt demand. "I want your cock."

I knew what he was asking me to say, to give permission for him to do. So I closed my eyes and said it. The words were bittersweet and tainted with more than a small amount of fear because this was Graysen Crowther. I wasn't asking a fumbling frat boy to take my virginity, I was asking him.

My eyes were still squeezed shut when I heard him say, "Good girl." I gasped, then shivered when I felt something rough—fingertips—trailing up and down my throat, warm breath against my cheek, a brush of lips along my hot skin. "I'll go easy on you, little bird."

He'd been playful when we'd been together in my bedroom after the Uzrek. Now...now...I didn't know this side of him. My mind couldn't anticipate what he'd like...what he'd like to do with me, to me. Brutal possibilities spun in the chaos of my mind.

The shock of cool air swirling between us had my eyes flaring open to see that he'd straightened.

He traced a square-tipped finger slowly along my hairline, down to where my hair was tied into a ponytail with a thin lock of hair wrapped around fine elastic. Untying it, he gently tugged my hair loose. His fingers deftly unwove the braid crowning my forehead and he spread my pale hair across my shoulders. "Better," he murmured. Pinching a wavy lock between his thumb and finger, he ran down its long length as if measuring its quality. The back of his hand brushed gently against the swell of my breast and I sucked in a breath as a zing of electricity crackled through my nerves.

The scrape of his calloused fingers against my skin was exquisite when he slipped his hand inside the bodice of my dress to cup a breast. Arousal pinched my nipples taut and my breathing came faster, my whole body flushing and burning with desire. His thumb rolled the peaked tip of my nipple, back and forth, drawing a strangled moan from me. I fell deeper into that primal side, ravenous to alleviate the strumming need between my thighs that had me clenching around nothing.

In a slow sensual move, his other hand pulled up my skirts, the fabric tickling my thighs, before his fingers slid under the hem of my panties. Thick, roughened fingertips teased as he stroked back and forth, lower and lower, but never quite going as far as I wanted him to. Never quite touching the place that throbbed and pulsed with every glancing pass.

Warmth met my temple when he pressed his lips there in a tender kiss. "This is mine." His other hand cupping my breast squeezed. "And this too." And I knew he would have been talking about my body, but I wondered if he knew that his large palm was splayed across my thundering heart. His hand slid down further beneath my panty line to cup my sex, squeezing possessively. His voice rumbled deeply into my ear, "This pretty pussy is mine. I want it coming all over my cock."

The words, the laced threat, spread through me like a fever, spiking an intense desire for it too.

Nudging a finger against my entrance, he pushed it inside, the heel of his palm pressing on my clit. My inner sex clenched around his finger, trying to draw him deeper, and my ass bucked into him as I cried out, making him hiss out a breath through his teeth. "Gods, Nelle, fuck."

Wet. I was so wet down there. A flush stole across my cheeks.

But gods, that felt good, as he slowly, deliciously, pumped, once, twice more.

His teeth gently nipped the shell of my ear. "So greedy for me, little bird."

Pulling his finger free, he adjusted my position slightly so I was cradled sideways against his chest, looking up at him a little dazed. He raised the glistening forefinger to brush it along my bottom lip, painting my arousal on the plump flesh, before smiling lazily. "Taste yourself."

My mouth parted, darting my tongue out with the intention to lick the tip of his finger but he pushed all the way inside. The rough skin against the softness of my mouth...I imagined that was what he was thinking of, wondering if it would feel like this when he pushed his body inside mine. When I twined my tongue sensually around his finger, he groaned and lust seared his eyes midnight-black.

My brows knitted together. I could taste myself—feminine and something indiscernible.

A low growl. "That's how I make you feel. I do that to you."

His blazing eyes dipped to my lips as he pulled his finger free, a moment before he claimed my mouth, his tongue licking between my lips, confident and sure, jolting my body into full arousal. And I came to life. Every sensation felt harsh and severe, my breath in my throat felt like razor blades, my blood heated to an inferno, and the silky fabric of my dress was now a thornberry bush scratching against my skin.

More. I needed more. I needed him.

I twisted around within Graysen's embrace to slide my hands on his chest, his pecs flexing beneath my palms, the hard ripple of abs pressed against my lower chest, and the ridgeline of his erection throbbing against my stomach. With his kiss, all my churning thoughts evaporated.

My powers slipped outward to stir the air in swirling currents, rustling leaves and teasing our hair. The air hummed with static electricity. The creature had been burned out and was curled and sated inside, but it was curious too, pricking with anticipation, purring with the pulsing ache of my core.

Graysen's hands slipped underneath my dress to stroke my outer thighs, and it felt so godsdamn good that I shivered at the contact. Feeling my response beneath his palms made his hands flex in reply. He tugged at my bottom lip with his teeth, slowly releasing, with a groan that danced along my mouth and sank into my bones before he scorched a sinuous path of open-mouthed kisses down my neck, to my shoulder, pushing the dress aside to nip and suck on my breast. I wove my hands through his hair, holding him to me, gasping with every swipe of his tongue along my nipple, echoed by his tortured groan.

Straightening, he took my elbows and turned me back around. The fallen tree trunk pressed across my hips and for a moment confusion jarred my mind.

What is he doing?