CRUZ:
My Reina.
Destroyed.
Devoured.
Devastated.
She had no idea what she’d done.
What she’d awakened.
I had taken what was mine, and she would never—never—get it back. I wasn’t the kind of man you walked away from once you gave yourself over. Once I marked you. Once I owned you.
And Avery? She was mine.
Her body trembled beneath me. Still twitching from the aftershocks. Her legs were damp, her chest heaving, and her throat—God, her throat was red from my grip, flushed and tender and perfect.
I should have felt guilt.
I didn’t.
I felt satisfaction.
She was lying there, wrecked in the sheets I’d tangled around her in my haste to devour her. Hair a golden halo of disarray, lips parted, skin sheened with sweat.
She looked like sin. And salvation.
A goddess desecrated. Claimed.
