With Varg's presence, the air grew heavy, and the thousand-year-old army of whispers in my mind fell silent in an instant. He was the only real voice amidst all that noise. The scent of sandalwood, blood, and wolf radiating from him sliced through that foul, rusty smell in my mind like a blade.
I could hear the thick blood rushing violently through his veins and the rapid pounding of his heart. Biting into the chocolate from his hands felt insufficient. I craved those hands—hands that could snap my slender neck with just their fingertips. When he extended his finger for me to suck on, both of our visions clouded.
I slowly trailed my tongue over his thumb, offering him my wet, warm breath. He watched me, his eyes slightly narrowed. I greedily accepted the fingers he fed me, and he drew a deep breath as I sucked on them.
