Betty POV
"Open your mouth, Betty," Mitchell says.
His voice is too low, too thick with the heat. He stands right by the edge of the mattress, his skin radiating a brutal, feverish warmth that makes the air in the bedroom feel heavy. He taps the tip of his length against my bottom lip.
I pull my chin back, my spine stiffening against the headboard. "No."
I am testing the limits. We all know it. The scent of the impending third wave is already drifting through the open window, sweet and heavy like rotting fruit, but I want to see how far I can push them before the fever completely takes over my mind.
Mitchell does not argue. He just steps closer, his fingers snapping up to pinch my nose shut.
My breath cuts off instantly. My lungs burn after five seconds, forcing me to gasp for air th
