Page 109 of She Haunts Me Still

“You shouldn’t have done that, pretty thing,” that rattling voice whispers from inside his mouth. “Have you forgotten how much I love the taste of blood?”

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Drop the knife and run, drop the knife and run, drop the knife and run.

Drop the knife.

And fucking run.

It’s a simple communication from her brain to her muscles. She should be able to do it.

But instead, Mallory can only stare in paralyzed horror as Ezra wraps a hand around hers, forcing her to press the knife even tighter to his throat. Blood runs down his neck in tiny rivulets, trailing over her knuckles, her wrist.

“Stop,” she whimpers to the dark thing inside him, burying the sudden, electric flash of hunger at the sight of the open, dripping wound. “Don’t hurt him.”

The creature that’s taken hold of Ezra only barks a harsh laugh. He swipes at the slashed skin with his free hand before smearing wet, red fingers over Mallory’s lips. Coating them with Ezra’s blood.

Sudden thirst explodes in her stomach. She clenches her jaw, burying it down, down, down—

“Look at you,” that voice growls. “Trying so hard to pretend you’re not hungry. That you’re not craving this.” He traces the seam of her mouth, vacant stare combing her face. “I toldyou I’d make you beg for death. How does it feel, living with my eternal need?”

Mallory can’t even process what he’s saying, overcome with the sudden feral instinct to lick her lips. She won’t. Shewon’t.

But then the demon forces Ezra’s fingers into her mouth, stroking her tongue. A whine escapes her as a warm, cinnamon-spiced flavor seeps onto her taste buds, hazardous and lush, and Mallory fights every muscle in her body not to take more, takeeverything.

That cruel smile widens as Ezra withdraws. He threads a large hand in her hair, guiding her toward his bloodstained throat. Mallory’s traitorous hunger multiplies, flimsy resolve cracking, and he notices with a purr. “There’s no dignity in starvation,” that creature muses. “Drink.”

Mallory frantically clutches what’s left of her willpower. But he smells so good. Like cloves and autumn. And she’s suddenly so hungry, sothirsty,so—

Ezra’s hand tightens on the back of her neck, closing the space between them until her lips are flush with his throat. She cries out at his taste, at the way he has her pinned. Something shatters inside her, messy and primal, and she has no choice but to surrender and feed.

There’s nothing demure about the way she does it. She drains him the same way he’s taken from her. Scraping his flesh with her teeth. Sucking at the flowing cuts without remorse. The demon’s laugh darkens as Ezra’s blood fills her mouth, spilling out the sides, a mockery of her restraint until she finally finishes with a desperate, greedy swallow.

“There she is,” the demon purrs, stroking her hair. “Taking it so well.”

Mallory rips her mouth away, shamed at how she still wants more.

“Why am I like this?” Mallory chokes out. “Is it because you bit me? Fed from methroughhim?” She shakes her head. “Why didn’t you do this to the other women?”

Ezra scoops a droplet of blood from her chin, pressing it back between her lips. “You’re special—your heart is the key to my salvation, Lily Flower.My seventh perfect heart.” He whispers his knuckles over her cheek like she’s a cat with a collar. “You almost slipped away from me, but I won’t lose you again. We’re nearly finished.”

“Salvation?” she echoes, delirious. “Finished? I don’t underst—”

“No more questions,” he interrupts with a hiss. “It’s time for a trade.”

Ezra pries the knife from her hand, twirling it before pressing her into the thorns. He wedges the blade under her chin, harshly tilting her face to his.

“Please,” she begs, “don’t, Ezra. It’s me, it’sme.”

“I play fair,” the beast growls. “An eye for an eye. A tooth for a tooth.” Ezra presses his nose into her neck and takes a long inhale. Like he’s lingering in her scent. “Blood for blood.”

“I’m sorry,” she tries. “I don’t know the rules.”

She can feel the curve of his smile against her. He traces the cords of her throat with the knife’s tip, hooking it beneath her choker necklace.

“Why do you hide what’s under here?” that terrible voice snarls. “You should show the world who you belong to.”

And then he cuts the fabric in two, baring the marks to the night air.