Pestilence (The Four Horsemen, #1)

by Laura Thalassa

“You’re human,” he says. “I don’t like your kind. I’m not supposed to like you.” I don’t breathe for a second. Don’t ask the question, Burns. Don’t— “But you do?” I say. His eyes drop to my mouth. He touches my lower lip with his thumb, rubbing it gently. “God forgive me, I do.”

Just as I’m on the very edge of sleep I think I hear Pestilence murmur against my hair, “This is not lust I feel, dear Sara. And I hope you are half as frightened of it as I am.”

“You have managed what no one else has: you have awoken my heart. So, no, Sara, of all the words I’d use to describe you, fascinating would definitely be one of them.”