The shadows didn't vanish when the door slammed shut. They clung to the walls — oily, shifting things that looked almost like hands reaching for Ann's bare feet where they dangled off the bed.
Damian's lips were still on hers, stealing her breath, pushing the taste of thunder and cold iron into her mouth until her heartbeat stopped feeling like her own.
She knew he was trying to calm her — or maybe claim her fear so she'd have none left to give to whatever waited outside that door.
When he pulled back, his eyes stayed locked on hers. His thumb brushed her cheekbone, wiping away a tear she hadn't felt slip free.
"You should have stayed in the bed," he murmured, voice calm — too calm. The calm of a predator right before it sinks its teeth into soft flesh.
"I did…" she whispered, her throat raw. "You left."
Damian's smile was faint, almost fond — if fond could taste like poison.
"I never leave you, Ann. Not really." His hand slipped to the back of her neck, the chill of his skin sinking into her spine as he forced her to hold his gaze.
"They're only brave when they think you're alone. When they think I'm not watching."
A soft knock echoed from the other side of the door — slow, almost polite this time, as if mocking the storm that had just tried to break through.
Ann flinched. Damian's grip tightened. His other hand slid down her side, tracing her ribs, his cold fingers a leash that reminded her whose bed she was in.
"They want you," he said softly, almost sweetly, as if confessing a lover's secret. "They taste your warmth through the walls. They taste me in you — and it drives them mad."
His lips brushed her ear, voice a ghost wrapping around her mind. "Do you want them, Ann? Do you want to see what they'd do if you let them in again?"
She shook her head, but her breath betrayed her — shallow, shaky, turning her answer into something that didn't sound like no.
Damian's laugh was a low rumble against her neck. "Liar."
She gasped when he pushed her back on the bed, pinning her wrists above her head with one cold hand. The other traced the line of her throat, lingering at her pulse — that soft, frantic proof she was still warm, still human.
His knee nudged between hers, forcing her thighs apart just enough for the cold to slide in where the shadows couldn't reach.
"You opened the door once," he whispered, his mouth brushing her jaw, her cheek, the corner of her parted lips. "What if you opened it again? What if you let them touch you?"
Ann shuddered. "Damian—"
His teeth grazed her earlobe, sharp enough to make her flinch. "Say you're mine again."
Her heart stuttered. The knocks came again — harder now, fists pounding, matching the wild pulse under his thumb.
"I'm yours," she gasped, the words ripping free before she could stop them.
"Again."
"I'm yours, Damian. Only yours."
The pounding stopped. Silence fell so heavy it pressed her into the mattress, made her bones feel hollow — like if he let go, she'd blow away with the cold.
His lips curved against her throat, a kiss soft as sin.
"Good girl," he murmured. His free hand slipped lower, trailing heat and frost down her stomach.
Outside the window, lightning flared — and in its reflection, she saw the shadows clinging to the glass, shapes with too many eyes, too many mouths whispering her name.
She looked away — but Damian grabbed her chin, forcing her eyes back to the window.
"Look at them," he commanded, his voice a promise carved in ice. "Let them watch while I remind you who owns this body. This fear. This warmth they'll never have."
Ann trembled — but she didn't look away. Not when his mouth found hers again, not when his teeth scraped her lower lip until she tasted copper and thunder all at once.
His grip on her wrists tightened as his other hand explored her ribs, her hips — claiming, punishing, worshipping.
Every breath turned to mist where his cold met her heat. Every knock that came after felt weaker — fading into the storm until there was nothing left but the echo of her gasps and his low, dangerous praise.
"You're mine," Damian growled against her throat, kissing the place where her pulse betrayed her fear and craving in the same frantic beat.
"My wife. My secret. My cage for every monster that wants you. Do you understand?"
"Yes…" she choked out. Her voice was a prayer and a curse all at once.
He pulled back just enough for her to see the storm in his eyes — a silver flash that promised the night wasn't done with them yet.
Outside, the knocks faded into the thunder. Inside, Damian dragged her deeper into his darkness — until the only thing left to fear was how much she wanted to stay.