Becoming the Dark Prince (Stalking Jack the Ripper, #3.5)

by Kerri Maniscalco

I really hated how hard he tried to charm the girl I adored. Right in front of me.

I fought a smile. It was one of the qualities I loved most about her.

It was more than lust. More than a physical need. I adored every part of her.

“I’m not sneaking, I’m prowling, Wadsworth.”

I longed to touch her. First her mind, then her heart, and, finally, her body. I wished to own every inch of space between us and fill it with each emotion I’d ever suppressed or pretended away. I wanted to strip my soul bare for only her to see and then do the same with my clothing, giving her everything I had of me. Scars and all.

I wanted to be caught more than I wished to run.

I hated the jealousy—it made me feel monstrous and out of control. She deserved better. I deserved it too.

I’d much rather she choose me.

I’d never wished for anyone’s blood to be on my hands before, but, as I clutched the girl I loved, her lifeblood emptying onto me and the floor, I prayed for the chance to return the favor on him tenfold.

I wanted to rip open my flesh and give her anything she needed to survive, even if it meant sacrificing my own blood.