Beast of the Damned #2

*Chapter Twenty-Seven*

"The only one who is going to burn is me." ~ Kenzie Dyer, famous last words. (So true these words turned out to be)

~ KINLEY ~

Voracious. Wild in untamable pursuit. Unfathomable Hunger. It bleeds into my mouth, filling me with the icy frost of Tristan's starvation. His mouth is relentless, like the guard who attempted to drive his nails to the bone to punish me for sneaking off castle grounds. I'm drowning in Tristan's punishments—breathless, lips bruising, and inundated with emotions that can't seem to grasp onto any part of me so they tumble around inside me, tangling with Tristan's tongue as it dips into my mouth, unearthing more chaos. Chaos Tristan thrives in, leaving no room for anything else.

The fingers I have dug into Tristan's casual armor relax, slipping from his chest as I reach up to find myself in the lips of the vampire capturing mine. My mouth is full of him and the taste of his desires. It's frightening to be so wholly wanted by a vampire, but it's more terrifying to feel myself surrendering, melting, and bending to his whims as if he is the storm inside me. The swell rising on the brink of crashing and hurling me into oblivion where only he exists: his mouth, his coldness, and his body pressing me into the stone steps.

I asked Tristan to kiss me, but I can feel the ghost lingering in the shallows. This other me. The one who he fell for. She's present—the eye of his storm. I attempt to find her, ride the surge of lust and hunger he's coaxing to the surface with his sinfully skilled mouth. But, I can't. She's a lost part of me I'll never get back. My shoulders pull away from the steps as I press my mouth more fervently to Tristan's.

I used to think life would be more fulfilling if I could capture the memories of my former life cycles. Yet whatever Kinaley and Tristan were, it was torturous. For him? For her? For both? I'm not sure.

What if this other me is all he craves? This Kinaley he's fought so hard to make his way back too. The one who managed to tempt this beast. What if he finds her again, and just like when Roarra takes over, this me will perish like the orphan I am?

Tristan's chest rumbles. His feral growl vibrates down my throat and into my tightened stomach. Debris tumbles down from his shattering grip on the stone step above. His tongue dives deeper, claiming more of my mouth as if there is any more he can claim.

I want Tristan to burn with me, this me. I want him to feel my breaths and beating heart as if it were the first time because it is the first time. I'm trying not to focus on the past, but I know the past is where Tristan fell for Kinaley.

Is Kinaley not me, and I not her? We share the same soul. We are the same soul, yet I can't reconcile with her. I can't grasp onto her as if she were me. She's a stranger. A passenger who no longer controls the ship. She might as well be her own person, her own soul.

My back lifts off the stone steps, Tristan picking me up as he shifts me so that my rear is resting on the edge of the step instead of my spine. His mouth is frenzied and demanding, urging me to give more of myself over. The way his mouth moves against me and that deep "v" I know lies underneath his causal armor makes a compelling case that I should give in, but the pesky thoughts won't leave me.

Does the other me, this Kinaley, even exist anymore? Or am I scared of the way the Beast on top of me makes me feel? He's magnetic, his energy palpable and suffocating. There is no denying it. I'm drawn to Tristan Darkos. But is he manipulating my emotions? It wouldn't be the first or last time a vampire has lied. Or maybe Tristan really is tapping into a side of me I can no longer access, one that has the power to consume me like Roarra.

I don't want to be consumed. I want to burn.

A gurgled, gut-clenching sound ruptures from my throat. Tristan's movements quick, I hadn't the time to object or even formulate the thought to object. His hand is back where it was in the tearoom, invading me like his mouth.