EZRA
I can still feel the shape of her mouth against mine.
Still taste her.
And even as I walk away from her, following dumbass Creighton, I can feel her gaze on me, probably looking at me like I’m something she doesn’t recognize—and maybe for the first time, I’m seeing myself clearly too.
This isn’t just desire.
This is fixation.
And I know exactly what happens when people like me fixate.
Blood. Lots of it.
It always starts with a small slip. A lapse in control. A kiss that turns into a bite. A fantasy that becomes a need.
It's already started.
And now I want more.
I want to taste that fear in her breath and the heat in her skin. I want her lips bruised from my hunger, her name broken on my tongue. I want everything I shouldn’t. And I know it.
So that time, I lied.
I pretende
