He took a heavy step forward. His erection throbbed inside her tight, unconscious grip, but the burning hunger was gone. The thrill of the hunt had vanished.
All he wanted now was to carry this fragile, ruined girl out of the burning cage he had built to trap her.
Looking at her pale profile, he saw the same hollowed-out look Darithi used to wear.
"She is a reflection of your past self," he added, his voice low. "Fix her mind. Anchor her. I want her to love me—but temper that toxic obsession into unwavering devotion."
"...But Master," Darithi began, her usual stoic facade slipping into genuine hesitation.
She didn't bat an eye at the explicit way Seleyena's plump ass bounced wetly against his groin with every step, making it look as though they were still engaged in a crude act. Her concern lay in the terrifying reality of a shattered psyche. Pulling someone back from the ledge of a love-induced psychotic break was a monumental task.
