Clare POV
I could feel the vibration of his low, dark chuckle through his chest, through the couch, through me. Every nerve in my body was on high alert, screaming at me to move, to run, to fight — but I stayed frozen, tucked against him like a goddamn sacrificial lamb.
His fingers threaded lazily through my hair again, deceptively gentle, like I wasn't one wrong breath away from being slaughtered.
This is it, I thought, heart thundering against my ribs. This is how it ends. Not with a bang. Not even with a proper fight. Just... quietly. Stupidly. Lying on a vampire's lap with a half-dead heating pad.
Pathetic.
I shifted just a little, instinctively trying to put some space between us, but his hand tightened in my hair — not enough to hurt, just enough to remind me who had the power here.
"Where do you think you're going, little pet?" he murmured, voice like black silk wrapping around my throat. "You're right where you belong."
