Total pages in book: 40
Estimated words: 36965 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 185(@200wpm)___ 148(@250wpm)___ 123(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 36965 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 185(@200wpm)___ 148(@250wpm)___ 123(@300wpm)
“Fawn!”
Ezra’s voice in the distance takes me back to a sweeter time when we were children. A time when I didn’t have large breasts, when my hips weren’t so pronounced, and when he could stand to be with me. It’s not so much that I want him to be with me romantically—I simply miss my best friend. Ezra doesn’t want me in a sexual way—he doesn’t even want to be my friend. My mom said that as people grow, things change, but my world exploded when I lost him.
“Leave me alone, Ezra, like you usually do,” I yell back.
Pain shoots up my arm as he grabs me, and we tumble to the forest floor. “I’ll never leave you alone.”
I slap his face with my open palm. He doesn’t even flinch as my nails dig into his flesh.
“Look at me, Briar.”
I turn my head away, unwilling to follow another command from a man in my life, especially this one. “I’ve looked at you my whole life, and all it’s brought me is sorrow.”
Ezra grips my chin and forces my face toward his gaze. The hard lines of his body press against me. “Fawn, you don’t know the first thing about sorrow. You’re Briar-Rose, the pretty girl with men lining up to worship at your feet. You’re just pissed off that I refuse to be one of them.”
I want to cry, but I’ll be damned if I give him the satisfaction. Swallowing air to suffocate the lump forming in my throat, I gaze directly into Ezra’s eyes and smile. “I’d rather eat glass than let you anywhere near me.”
The corners of his full lips turn up, forming the arrogant smile I love so much. “Is that so?”
We lie immobile, transfixed in the silence of the forest and the ragged sound of our breathing.
“Get off me, Ezra.”
His scent assaults me. His breath is too hot, and his eyes are too blue, like an ocean about to engulf me. I’m trapped under him. If I stay here a moment longer, I won’t be able to deny the rapid beating of my heart and the arousal pooling between my legs. The arrogant prick.
I move my hands between our bodies and push with all my might as I wriggle beneath him. I freeze, like a snapshot in time. My eyes round at the realization that Ezra Walker is as hard as steel and huge. Turns out I’m not powerless after all.
His laugh, joyful and sinister, echoes through the forest. Transcendent blue eyes lock with hazel as he bends until his lips barely touch mine. “You’re too soft for me, Fawn. I’ll destroy you. I’ll devour your light and drown you in my darkness. Even when I’ve brought you to your knees, I’ll still demand more. I’ll want you bleeding, crying, begging for mercy. Consider yourself lucky I’m not one of those idiots simping for you to smile at them.”
Turbulent emotions bubble inside me, a cluster of opposition that feuds within my heart and mind. This is Ezra. He’s no monster. He’s my favorite person, the little boy I ran with as we pretended we were wild wolves, free of the confines of the dangerous world we were born into.
“You’re not a monster, Ezra. You’re a coward. Too fucking scared to go after what you want.”
“You think what I want is you?”
“I’m not naïve. If you didn’t want me, your dick wouldn’t be granite pressed against me. You want me, Ezra. Your knees would be battered, bruised, and bloody for me like those other guys, and I wouldn’t even need to ask. But you’re too scared to do anything about it.”
His thumb rubs along my bottom lip right before he grabs my head, and his fingers squeeze without mercy. The humor present in his eyes a moment ago has vanished. His pupils are dilated, and the cobalt of his eyes is much darker, now a midnight blue. I’ve seen that look before when he turned eighteen and snuck into my room in the dead of night, covered in crimson.
Panic and dread rise within me, and I wonder if I’ve pushed him too far. Perhaps I’m wrong about the situation, or maybe my dream has made me lose my link to reality.
He looks wild, untamed, not like my Ezra. This is the part of him he unleashes on those who cross him, not on me. In the eighteen years I’ve known Ezra Walker, he’s never looked at me as if he’s about to devour me whole and then pick his teeth with my carcass—until now.
“Ezra,” I whisper, my fingers trailing the side of his face.
There’s no response from him, no soothing words to dissipate the dread that has made me a prisoner. Ezra Walker bends and kisses me. It’s not the sweet pressing of lips I pictured for my first kiss. There’s no tenderness in his touch. The kiss is full of anger, passion, and violence. It’s about dominance and control.