Anathema (The Eating Woods, #1)

by Keri Lake

never answer to your own name.

“Goodnight.” “Goodnight, Lunamiszka.” “Do I still annoy you?” she asked. “Endlessly.”

“You so much as breathe across her neck, and I will take pleasure in skewering your skull before I set it aflame.”

“For wearing this dress. For looking so painfully exquisite, you’ve managed to draw everyone’s attention. Including mine.” Still clutching one hand at my waist, we held the other above our heads, staring at each other as we turned.

“You fucking look at her, and I’ll carve your eyes from their sockets then cram them down your gullet.”

She was chaos wrapped in fine silk. The embodiment of trouble that’d nearly brought him to his fucking knees when he’d first laid eyes on her across the ballroom. So achingly beautiful, his chest hurt.

“Because I’m a jealous cunt who refuses to entertain thoughts of you lying next to another man. Is that explanation enough?”

“Do you enjoy making me uncomfortable?” “If I’m being honest, yes. Blush looks good on you.”

“Fucking hell, you are a vicious little rosebud. One minute, you’re soft and inviting, the next, you’re thorns and blood.”

“Cursed gods, you are a ferociously breathtaking creature when you’re ravenous.”

face. “A thousand times I’ve fantasized this moment, and still, I failed to imagine you’d be this perfect.”

Here, in this little hovel, with our bodies entwined and our hearts beating in sync, we transcended death, existing on our own plane. Our own uncharted terrain.

“I want you. I want you so desperately that I’d kill anything with a pulse just to have you for one night. This insatiable craving I feel …”

“I can’t fucking breathe. I ache for you, Maevyth. Believe me when I say this.”

Zevander’s withering heart had been caged for far too long to so selflessly let her go. As much as he loathed his greedy, self-indulgence, the mere thought of setting her free was a kindness he refused to entertain.

She was his. Lunamiszka. My little moon witch.

“And I am yours to touch, Maevyth. I crave your touch more than my next breath.”

“I’ll never know what in seven hells inspired the universe to send you to me, Maevyth.” “Some might call it a punishment,” I said, smiling. “If this is punishment, then I welcome an eternity of suffering.”

The kiss that followed was gentle and teasing in the way he merely brushed his lips across mine. “You consume me entirely, little moon witch.”

“They’re thoughts. Not will.” He dragged my finger over the sharp edge of his teeth. “I can imagine biting into your flesh, can practically taste the blood on my tongue, but I’d sooner rip my own heart out than hurt you that way. Do you understand the difference?”

“I don’t want to hurt you,” he said, and curled his fist into my hair. “I don’t ever want to hurt you, Maevyth.”

“These curiosities will be the death of me.” Again, he kissed my forehead. “My body belongs to you, Maevyth. It is yours.”