The air in the room thickened, heavy with a tension that was no longer just desire, but a collision of abysses. The dark spiral in Victor's eyes was no illusion; it was the manifestation of a hunger that equaled and then surpassed her own, a vortex of absolute possession that didn't ask, it took.
Serafall took a deep breath, but the air didn't reach her lungs. It was sucked in, consumed by the gravity of that gaze. Her most primal instinct screamed to attack, to dominate, to tear and consume before being consumed. But another instinct, deeper and newly discovered, trembled—a dizzying and sweet surrender.
"All mine…" she repeated, her voice a hoarse whisper, the words coming out as a promise and a question at the same time.
She didn't wait any longer.
Her lips collided with his not with a kiss, but with a bite. It was tooth, tongue, and pure hunger.
