Got my claws in you

Chapter 84- torn and taken

(Y/N) POV:

The rippled snarled "(Y/N) no." still lingers in my ears. Rings there. The desperation and hurt and panic—pooling into drowning misery and helplessness in his eyes. Anger and frustration too. And a gleam of pure feral wildness had been in Hobi's eyes, body hovering protectively in front of Ji Ah's and only restrained back by the threat hanging over us. Limbs locked up with the conflicting urge to rush forward, restrained by the threat of venomed fangs at my throat.

My head twists back futilely, the door stretching further and further away, every step leaden, hurried along by the impatient grip and tightening strangled hold of a hand clamped over my nape. Fingers shy of bruising and digging into scent glands that pulse, trying to break past the barriers of the scentblockers to broadcast wide and clear the threat that walks alongside me. A slowness that feigns at being utterly in control, in being normal.

no officers guarding Ji Ah's door.

But there is a distress button in the room.

Hoping and willing that Ji Ah uses it, to raise the alarm that the very person they were looking for was right here. Was a threat. A danger. A monster inside the centre's walls.

That the officers would return and find that Ji Ah and Hobi were in the room, that there was someone else actively at the centre helping the serpent hybrid. That all this time there had been someone who'd been helping him from the inside. That same someone was a threat to Hobi and Ji Ah.

But right now, that emptiness that stretches out behind and ahead is a mockery.

I couldn't be more alone.

But it's better. If the threat is here, he can't hurt anyone else.

He can't hurt your mate, the kids you care for. He can't get to them if he's right here.

The presence of his voice, the heat of venomous breath, and sharp bitten command making my spine stiffen.

"Walk quicker. We're going back to the ICU." lead further and further from Ji Ah's room, heart squeezing painfully. A vice-like grip that digs its hold deeper and harder into skin. Bruising.

Mind trying to put together what he'd gain from going back. From retracing his steps.

If anything... he'd be seen.

...

He wanted to be seen.

Confirmation in the sharp fanged smile and slitted eyes. Maliciously thrilled.

A mask of pure poison—no... the face he'd been wearing before, the person he'd pretended to be... the patient he'd been needing treatment... all of it was a farce.

Torn down to reveal the jagged, sharp edges of eyes that glitter with a wild ferality.

Unhinged.

Feet stumbling over one another, shoved forward and the fingers at my nape sinking in hard.

"Why? Why're we going back?" voice uneven. Hating that his eyes flash with primal delight at it, revelling in the fear that his tongue briefly darts out to taste, a hissed sound as he grins.

"Because you found me of course. And I realised you were helping me. You're not a scary threat, are you?"

Laughter laced into the quiet, repressed syllables. Each one of them close enough that his fangs hover close to my nape, limbs tightening; a winding coil of tension that tightens at the way my nape is entirely vulnerable and exposed to his grip and bite.