He dips his head and sucks hard at the bite to draw fresh blood, and the abused skin flares with a satisfying throb. He’s frantically devouring me, teeth raking over my skin before he bites into the soft flesh of my breast. As his teeth sink deep, the pain locks my muscles and I contract around him.

His growl forces my hands beneath his shirt, nails seeking greedy purchase in his skin as I claw into his back. My sleeve snags one of the stitches in my forearm, and the resulting pain scratches an itch so deep, I arch off the wall, my hips rolling in time to meet his merciless thrusts.

Only vile creatures could love so violently.

Lost in our relentless desire as we rend each other apart, we are these wild, wicked things.

The web of his hand becomes a vise, depriving me of air. Fear is tactile and smothering, encasing us in the darkness—yet it’s not the dark we fear; it’s what’s in the dark, the things too fragile to voice, the terror of what could be lost.

The fear of what we could do to each other.

Once a monster tastes blood, they crave it all the more.

Violent and depraved, Kallum didn’t just kill a man—he flayed his skin from his skull, stripping him of his identity for daring to cause me pain. I took a life, snuffed that living spark out of existence with my own hands.

Kallum chokes me in deviant craving, yet he also seeks to take control of his fear, edging closer to that dark act which promises a release from his obsession.

Knowing the hurt and damage we’re capable of, and wanting it—every sick, painful part of us—we’re not given a choice.

There is no escape for either of us.

Fire thrashes my overused muscles until I’m languid and dissolving under his ruthless thrusts. I feel his muscles spasm beneath my palms, his body racked with shivers against mine.

“Ah, goddammit…fuck.” Mindless obscenities spill from his mouth in fervent assertions like a helpless plea, and my body answers each one, responding to the needy pain, the consuming, aching demand.

I cup his face and kiss him, my lips hard on his, biting into his lower lip as I fall over the edge, my back arched against the rough wall, my hips rocking into his furious thrusts, lewd, uninhibited.

He frees my throat, and air tunnels into my deprived lungs, the intense sensation alone orgasmic.

“Kallum…oh, god. Fuck me harder.” Every broken word is torn from me as he obeys, hips slamming against my thighs. Every time I cry his name, he drives harder, deeper, like his name falling from my lips further strips him of control.

He knows what I’m begging for, what I need, and he delivers that pain.

“You were made for me, sweetness. And I was made to destroy this perfect pussy.”

The fire rises until we come together in a violent crash.

I shiver at the erotic feel of his ejaculate coating my thighs as he continues to rock into me, teasing out every last bit of pleasure before he stills. His breaths labored and falling over my neck, I cling to him as the wave recedes, leaving me shaken.

Slowly finding my gaze, Kallum first tracks my features with his eyes, then his thumb gently swipes over my lips, his ring cool against my fevered skin, before he kisses me until I’m again struggling for air, the taste of metallic blood heady on his tongue.

Kallum meant every word of his promise to me. He would expend every energy source to never stop touching me, to never stop fucking me—he would let us wither in his desire to satiate.

And I’m not sure if I’m strong enough to stop the destruction.

When finally he releases me from the kiss, his forehead touches mine. “You have to leave,” he says, issuing his heated request against my tender lips. He pulls away, and there’s just enough faint light for me to see the broken expression creasing his face. “Leave this town, Halen.”

The appeal is reminiscent of the moment in his townhouse where he asked me to stay with him. Had I not left, had I stayed…then how different would our lives have been these past six months?

“Okay,” I say, nodding my answer.

His relief is a smoldering smile breaking across his beautiful face before his mouth descends on mine, kissing me until I’m spent.

I owe this to him, to choose him—to choose us this time.

I suddenly dread this monstrous fear that he’s plagued with, worried it will destroy him. I don’t know how else to save Kallum from his own destructive path.

When he’s unable to keep me held aloft any longer, he lowers me to the floor, forcing me to unlock my legs from his hips. My muscles are weak and burn as I find sure footing in the dark.

Seeking my panties to clean up, I hold the hem of my skirt and search the floor. Kallum seals his hand around my wrist.

“I want my cum dripping down your legs,” he says, his voice thick with lingering lust. He then yanks my skirt down before he retrieves my torn panties and shoves them in his pocket.

“You’re a troglodyte,” I say as I fasten my bra into place. I grab my tote from the terrace, unable to deny the thrill buzzing my veins. He makes me just as savage. It’s not healthy, I know this—yet I’ve also seen the devastation a supposed healthy relationship leaves behind.

The arresting smile that stretches his abused lips steals what’s left of my breath as he shamelessly tucks himself away. “But this troglodyte did leave you with a whole skirt.”

I curb my smile. With trembling arms from my exerted muscles, I dig through my bag and unearth my phone. Two notifications display when I light the screen. The missed call from Dr. Torres and a text from Agent Hernandez inquiring where we are.

As Kallum slips into his long overcoat, my gaze lands on the steady red light of the GPS monitor secured to his ankle, recalling the last time we were inside a dark room within the Lipton house. I shiver at the memory, feeling untethered.

He drives a hand through his disheveled hair, then motions for me to walk ahead toward the terrace.

“You didn’t fuck my fear of heights out of me.”

“Yet,” he says, challenge darkening his tone as he sends me a wink. “All right. We’ll take the easy way.”

Sometimes, the descent down is harder and scarier than the climb up.

As he takes my hand in his and leads me into the depths of the house, we abandon all the torn open fear in the maddening echo of that dark room.

The hallways are lit by the dim glow of sconces as we navigate our way to the other side of the house. I’m thankful for the near dark that conceals my bruised skin and tousled appearance, even as I try to comb my fingers through my tangled hair.

A sense of something unfinished pulls at the back of my mind, leaving a hollow pang in my chest. So I tighten my hold on Kallum’s hand, shoving all thoughts of Devyn and the case aside as we arrive in the large kitchen area.

There’s a spread of serving platters with appetizers on the marble counters. Kallum grabs a bottle of red wine and uncorks the pourer before he takes a swig.

He offers me the bottle. “I stay my claim that the Liptons have decent taste in wine.”

I point toward a serving tray of bottled waters. “I’ll hydrate, thanks,” I say, my words trailing off as I look back at the bottle in his hand.

I didn’t notice it the first time we were here, but the wine looks homemade. Accepting the bottle, I turn it around and read the handmade label. “What type of wine was found at Landry’s mansion?”

Kallum braces the heels of his palms on the edge of the counter and leans back. “I’m not sure,” he says, but I know he’s following the logic.

I set the bottle aside and send a reply text to Hernandez to meet us inside. “I wonder where the Liptons keep their wine collection.” At his heavy silence, I look up. “It’s at least a lead for Hernandez to follow.”

Kallum pushes off the counter. “No, you’re right. You didn’t say you were leaving tonight.”