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Old Zelda was scary as shit. And Vad avoided her every chance he could.
If her mother was a freak, then maybe so was she. After all, sometimes she heard the voices, too.
Books had become her refuge, especially books with men—humans, shapeshifters, or aliens—who fell in love hard and claimed their women, body and soul. Those were her favorite.
Silver-eyed devil, that’s what we called him.
She didn’t even look down. No hesitation. No flinch. Just walked off the roof like she could walk on air.”
“This castle has so many secrets,” Jade whispered, looking out the window. “I love this place, but it scares the fuck out of me.”
“The woods are dangerous, especially for someone who doesn’t know them.”
He smelled of dangerous adventures and coming home, of heartache and nostalgia.
“You’re very unusual, Miss Clemm. Almost enough to interest me.” He turned his eyes back to her. “And let’s just say that’s not a good thing.”
Because if it was truly in her head, Verenmore posed bigger problems than mysterious woods and mysterious men. It meant her descent into madness had begun.
There was something wrong with the castle. Something very, very wrong. Or maybe it was her. Maybe it was her mind slowly splintering.
He might not have been speaking to her verbally, but his eyes said a lot.
“Steer clear of me, little crow,” he muttered, his eyes piercing, flaying her open. “You might be a luring siren but I’m no ordinary sailor. I’m a mad pirate and I’m trying to resist your call. If I land on your shores, I will plunder and take away everything worth having. Be very careful giving me those eyes.”
It was entirely possible that she was imagining it. She didn’t know. Her own mind was unreliable.
haven’t come this far to risk it all for a random fling.”
“Your eyes have such hunger. Your soul is starved, and your flesh is famished. Tell me, Miss Clemm, do you want relief?”
“You’ve ruined me with that knowledge.”
Verenmore was her clean slate, and Vad Deverell was her writing on the wall.
The idea that there is universality in death, that regardless of who you are in your life or your station or how much you possess, you will have to dance with death in the end. Kind of beautiful, if macabre, isn’t it?”
She liked putting the words on paper. It made her make sense of everything that went on inside.
“You’re my student and I’m your teacher, but worse, I’m dangerous. Girls I interact with dance with death much sooner than they should. If you value your life, don’t look at me like that. Not with those eyes.”
“Things like fucking you in front of the boy who held your hand, just to tell him you’ll never be his. Things like bending you over my desk after class and telling you to wrap your lips around my cock like you do with your pencil.”
“This is lust,” she whispered, trying to validate it, excuse it. “No, Corvina.” The side of his lips twitched. “I’ve known lust. This is something worse. This is a barbaric need to possess, to eliminate, to own. This is madness.” Madness.
“If this is madness,” he told her, echoing her words against her lips, “I’ve already descended too far.”
She wanted this deviant mouth that kissed her like she was his feast after relentless gnawing hunger to kiss her in places no one had.
She loved and hated his attention in equal measure.
“You chose the wrong guy for your first time, little crow,”
“This is our madness.”
“Magic eyes, magic pussy,” he murmured again, looking all over her face. “Little witch.” “Devil. Devil of Verenmore,”
The dark that had always been her friend had become a stranger, and Corvina didn’t like that.
“You can’t handle my secrets, Mr. Deverell,” she told him with a toneless laugh. “You have no idea what I can handle, Miss Clemm. And I told you to call me Vad when we’re alone.” “You also said we wouldn’t be alone again,” she pointed out, settling back a bit more on the bed. Vad sighed and put a hand inside
She wanted to tell him, to trust him, and this seemed like the first step. She just hoped he didn’t disappoint her.
“This is happening, little crow,” he whispered softly against her lips, pinching her nipple between his fingers. “I’m done denying this. You’ve haunted me long enough. And I don’t care if you’re haunted by forces beyond your understanding or if it’s all in your head. You’re mine now. For as long as this madness ensues.”
“I” slam “am” slam “your” slam “madness.”
Lust was only their beginning. They were meant for more. She had to give it time.