Feathers That Bleed

by Sana Khatri

“You’re unbelievable,” I say with a shake of my head. “And you’re fucking priceless, Little Swan,” he muses. Six simple words, and yet, they warm me from the inside out. Only because he’s the one who said them. I take my hand away from my nose and try not to focus on the stench, then enter the room and stand directly in front of Dorran. He arches a brow at me, and I rise on my tiptoes to bring my face close to his. “Say that again.” He smirks. “You’re fucking priceless, my Little Swan.” I glance at his lips, and watch as they spread into a deviant smile. “Yours, huh?” I meet his gaze. His pupils are flared, and the glint in them is unmistakable. “Did I stutter?” I chuckle. “Kiss me, then,” I say, and erase the space between us before fisting his soiled vest. He lets go of a slight hiss, drops the kitchen axe, and pulls me to him. He then wraps the fingers of his right hand around my throat and squeezes, cutting off my air supply. My lungs burn as I struggle to breathe, and when I let go of a strangled groan, Dorran laughs and presses his lips to mine.