Panic slams against my chest. I lie immobile.
A dim crack of light is all that is left.
“Good night, Six,” Cardence whispers like a snake slithering in just before all the light is shut out.
And then I’m left all alone.
The darkness feels pressing. My fingers slide back and forth, touching my thighs before slipping the few inches to feel the smooth grain of the side of the sarcophagus. I do it again. I trace the space once more. Three inches. It can’t be more than three inches of space on either side of my body.
The shaking exhale I release blows right back into my face. It’s hot and stifling and gives the illusion that there’s not enough air in here.
There’s not enough air.
There’s not!
My palm collides with the top and I push so hard it flings open with a resounding slam. I’m sitting up so fast I nearly leap right out of the damn thing.
But Prey is right there. His hands are against my shoulders in an instant, cool along my damp skin as he stares down at me hard.
“I—I can’t stay in here. I—I need to get out!” The look I give him is too fragile, too scared, and I fucking hate it. I was doing so good at concealing that human side of me.
Until now.
“You,” his voice drops to a whisper and I realize Acessa is now watching us from across the room with a sparkle in her big brown eyes, “you need to lie down, mistress.” He lifts his brows rather sternly.
He’s politely saying one thing while threatening me with a lift of his eyebrows.
My jaw clenches down hard and fast. I nearly bite my tongue all the way through.
She’s watching. But the man who poses a real danger here is gone.
I’m as safe as I can possibly be for the moment.
I can’t go back into that tomb, though.
“No.” His eyes widen as I say it, and I widen mine right back at him. “You lie in here and tell me how great it is,” I snap at him in a hushed tone that still carries all through the tomb.
“I’d fucking love to!” Prey hisses with impatience. And then his hands on me are against the edge of the coffin and he’s stepping right into the meager little marble box.
“Stop it!” I push at his legs, but his fucking insulting stability never wavers. He’s sitting at my side in less than a second. “Get out!” I say louder.
He simply sighs at me and with a heavy hand against my chest he shoves me down into the terrible dooming darkness that is my deathbed.
“Stop it!” I push and claw at him, but then it happens.
He pulls the lid closed over us once more.
And that pressing darkness falls over me once more.
“Prey! Get me the fuck out of here. Move! Get out! Now!”
His arm against my chest never budges. He’s curled up against my side, and I can feel him watching me as I squirm.
I’m the prey now.
I’m the living embodiment of the weakness I swore I’d never show these damn people.
“Shhh,” he whispers warmly against my neck.
“I—I can’t fucking breathe in here. I’m suffocating! I can’t do this.”
The weight of his bicep across my body shifts, his hand lifts and just when I think he’s about to slap his hand over my mouth and force me to shut up, his fingers gently graze my jaw. It’s the faintest caress of his cool touch along my flesh. And it drifts, his hand wanders lower as he strokes along my chin and then… he skims his fingertips along my parted lips.
“I can help you,” he says it so quietly and ominously that it sounds like the devil himself is making me an offer in the dead of night.
“Help?” I ask against his fingertips.
He lingers there before tracing the shape of my mouth ever so lightly. The warmth of his breath trickles along the curve of my neck and he suddenly feels impossibly closer.
“I can make you sleep. I could give you the most peaceful sleep of your entire life.”
“That—that sounds a little too much like death, and I don’t think I’m ready for that kind of foreplay in our relationship yet. Thanks, but no thanks.”
A breath of a laugh slips from his lips and dances along my neck in such a way that it shivers right through me.
“No. Not death, but the very next best thing. You’ll sleep, and then you’ll wake up fully rested. You’ll be the same. I promise, Pretty Pet.” His taunting tone makes me want to kick him in the balls.
If only we had the space.
I hate him, I really do. But… I need him in this moment. I need to keep my cover, and I can’t do that if I’m having the kind of mid life anxiety crises that even Kanye would be envious of.
I just don’t know how to separate the line of hate and need in my head.
I can’t.
“Just do it.” I close my eyes hard and try to find what little air that might be left in this fucking death trap.
His fingers slip lower. The feel of his cool touch drifting down the line of my neck is heightened by the blinding dark. He trails lower and lower and lower, until he’s skimming along my collarbone in a distracting little taste of what I know he’s capable of.
I believe him. I know he can provide me with what he offered.
I just hope I don’t lose myself in this deal I’m making with the devil.
“Open your eyes, Pretty Human,” he whispers so softly it sounds like a sweet, sadistic sentiment. “I want to see that moment where all that despising disgust in your gaze fades out and lustful euphoria replaces it. I want to see your sensuous hate for me.”
My lashes open fast and I try to find him in the darkness, but it’s totally impossible.
“What—” I try to ask what’s thick on my tongue, but the question dissolves
