The horns, ridges, and scales of Aeson’s inky black armor begin to peel back, revealing his face. He kneels in front of me, strong hands grabbing my hips, and before I know what he’s doing, the commander leans forward and licks the thin line of blood from the scratch on my thigh. Heat blooms low in my stomach, and I try to jerk back from the searing touch of his hands and tongue. I don’t get far before he’s once again towering over me, grabbing my arms to keep me close. “I have your blood now, Syphon, so don’t even think of trying to run, because I will find you.” He
