Claimed by Fangs and Darkness (Everlasting Possession, #2)

by Maggie Sunseri

“You know what’s better than being feared?” He paused, turning to lean over the island between us as he pinned me with his gaze. “Being respected. I want to worship you, Evie. I don’t fear you. I only fear losing you.”

I was terrified, conditioned to believe that

“That’s okay, angel. I’ll believe enough for both of us.”

How many couples can share this intense, intimate bonding activity?”

“Is murder the bonding activity?”

you deserve that kind of consistent, reliable love, as intense as mine may be. I know

Who knew such ruthlessness lived beneath such a sweet, innocent exterior?

“Remember your why, angel,” I whispered. “You’re here for a reason. All

“It’s so sexy you know how to read.”

Kylo lifted a single brow. “What? Most men can’t.” His face shifted with displeasure. “Can’t or won’t?” “Uncertain.”

“Men need a higher power, or they will become their own. Whether that higher power is group consciousness, the spirit of the revolution, or devotion to one or more gods—there has to be a system of meaning that exists beyond their own egos. Greatness is derived from connection. A man’s unchecked ego breeds alienation, profound spiritual loneliness, and insecurity. And instead of self-betterment, those lost souls will falsely believe that conquering, dominating, and stealing others’ light is the only way to fill the bottomless voids they themselves created.”

Kylo’s smile was nothing short of heart-melting. It was a hazard to society.

“Is this fucked-up of us?” I panted. “We’re self-aware, so it’s fine.”

“You don’t have to earn my love, Evie,” I reminded her. “You are all I’ve ever needed.”

I remembered the thought I’d had when I’d fought my way back to the realm of the living. I’d been in that deep dark pit, reaching for the sliver of sunlight above. Death had been comforting. It taught me I hadn’t experienced nearly enough love, not yet. I want to live, I’d begged. I promise not to waste it.

“My undying devotion isn’t meant to be subtle.”

“I love your sweet, vulnerable, feral little heart,”

sheathed his weapon and did as he asked. “Because you used your manners.”

“You grow more feral every day,” he said, yanking me up by the hair. “I will delight in taming you and keeping your dark little urges in check.” I batted my eyelashes. “Good luck.”