Page 2 of Betrayed In Crimson
“My sister?—”
He leans in, his lips barely grazing mine. “Very occupied.”
My breath stutters. “We’re friends.”
His eyes darken, something fierce flickering behind them. “I’d rather be more.”
I’ve always known he was dangerous. Not in the loud, reckless way the town whispers about him, but in the quiet way; the kind that waits and watches, the kind that chooses.
My heart pounds as I close the distance and kiss him, and the world tilts.
His arms wrap around me, pulling me flush against him as if I weigh nothing at all. His mouth moves over mine with a hunger that steals the air from my lungs. I fist his shirt, clinging to him as the kiss deepens; slow at first, then urgent, breathless.
He lifts me effortlessly, and I wrap my legs around his waist, startled by the strength in his grip. The bar door slams shut behind us, the sound echoing in the empty room. He sets me on one of the tables and steps between my knees.
For a moment, he pulls back. His gaze drags over me, intense, almost reverent, but there’s something else there too; something darker, something restrained.
I hook my fingers into the hem of my shirt and pull it over my head.
His breath catches. “Lilith.” My name leaves his mouth like a warning. But I don’t stop. I reach for him instead, sliding my hands up his chest, feeling the solid strength of him beneath his clothes. He shudders.
His forehead presses to mine. His breathing is uneven now. “You don’t know what you’re doing,” he murmurs.
“Then show me.”
For a split second, something flashes across his face—conflict, maybe even fear—before it vanishes. His hands trace slowly down my sides, leaving fire in their wake. Every touch is deliberate, restrained, as though he’s holding back more than Iunderstand. My skin feels too sensitive, my body too aware of every place his fingers graze.
He kisses me again, deeper this time, his hand tangling in my hair as though he’s afraid I’ll disappear. I feel the tension in him—a battle between hunger and restraint—and it makes my pulse thunder louder.
His lips drift from my mouth to my jaw, to the curve of my throat. When they pause there, he freezes. His body goes rigid. For a heartbeat, I feel it; the shift. The air turns colder.
“Morbius?” I whisper.
He pulls back abruptly, eyes blazing not just with desire now but with something raw and predatory that makes my stomach flip.
“Careful,” he says hoarsely.
But instead of stepping away, he gathers me closer, burying his face in my hair as if grounding himself. His grip tightens; possessive, protective.
“I don’t want to hurt you,” he murmurs against my skin.
I laugh softly, brushing my fingers along his jaw. “You won’t.”
He looks at me like I’ve just handed him something fragile and sacred. “You have no idea what I am,” he whispers. And for the first time since I’ve known him, I think he might mean that literally.
Outside, the town remains silent. Inside the bar, wrapped in shadows and neon reflections, he kisses me again; slower now, more controlled, like he’s savoring something he’s waited lifetimes to taste. And this time, when he pulls me closer, there’s no hesitation.
Only heat. Only hunger. Only us.
CHAPTER TWO
LILITH
CHRISTMAS 27 YEARS AGO
“I’m going for a walk;I’ll be back in a bit!” I call over my shoulder as I slip out of the bar, the small, wrapped gifts tucked tight beneath my arm. The door swings shut behind me, sealing in the laughter and Christmas music.
Outside, the town lies hushed under a spill of moonlight. Frost glitters along the pavement, and my breath ghosts in the air as if the night itself is trying to steal it from my lungs. Windows glow gold as families celebrate inside, but the streets are empty; just me and the long shadows stretching toward the woods where Morbius is waiting.
