He leans close again. “I can smell how much you wish to destroy me. It is intoxicating. Exhilarating.” He caresses my cheek with his lips. The shudder wracking my body turns epileptic. “I will look forward to encouraging you to give into that side of yourself.”
I try to speak, to tell him to fuck off, but he squeezes even harder. Blurry lights invade the darkness in my vision. “Did you know that pain can help? You just have not learned this lesson yet.” His nose traces my neck as he pulls in a long, deep breath. “You are trying so hard right now to overcome me. You are vibrating with power, so much so, and yet . . . it is still contained by such a fragile vessel. I wish I could be inside you right now, feel what you are feeling. It would be almost humbling. Exciting.” He pauses, licks my neck, as if he is tasting something new.
My knees nearly give out. Bile resurges in the back of my throat.
“Can you feel my excitement?” he wheezes softly.
I fight. As hard as I can. I kick and will everything in me to crash against him, but it’s no use. The pain is blocking me from doing anything with my powers.
I’m nothing but a rag doll in his hands.
“Soon enough,” he murmurs, licking once more from the base of my neck all the way to my forehead. “Soon enough, little one.”
He releases my hands so suddenly I nearly crash to the floor. In desperation, I attempt to yank the stall doors off their hinges to use as weapons against him, but he wraps a hand around my throat and presses the other against my forehead. A loud squealing sound roars through my mind and then my entire being. I’ve never heard anything like it before.
It’s deafening.
The doors before me suspend in mid-air. Jens yanks me off my feet so my toes dangle limply against the ground. Just as I begin to lose consciousness, I watch the doors slide back into position, as if they’d never been yanked off in the first place.
How . . . how is this possible?
“Tonight is not our night. Until it’s time, sweet dreams,” he murmurs.
The sound in my mind ratchets up a thousand decibels until I am pain personified. I shatter over and over again until, thankfully, everything fades to blessed black.
While writing is a very solitary process, a book cannot be successful without a team. To my editor, Natasha Tomic, my agent, Pam van Hylckama Vlieg, and my publicist, KP Simmon, I’m lucky to have such a strong team behind me. Thanks for believing in me and for everything you do for me and my stories. It makes all the difference. While I’m at it . . . Carly Stevens, this cover? I’m still sighing and swooning over it. And Julie Titus? Your formatting skills make me so happy. Grazie to you all, ladies—you’re simply the best around.
Fact: I have some of the best critique partners and beta readers around. Tracy Cooper, Andrea Johnston, Vilma Gonzalez, Megan O’Connell, and Cherisse Nadal, I cannot thank you guys enough for all the time, love, suggestions, feedback, and encouragements you’ve given this book and these characters. All the love to you guys.
I also have an amazing street team—guys, I pinch myself every day because I am so very lucky to have such dedicated, wonderful fans. Thank you for everything you all do for me. Please know that I’m eternally grateful for each and every one of you. I also feel incredibly lucky to have so many book bloggers championing the Fate series—thank you all so much. There are a few I’d like to send specific shout-outs to, who have really made this journey special: Natasha at Natasha is a Book Junkie, Vilma at Vilma’s Book Blog, Cristina at Cristina’s Book Reviews, Ana at The Book Hookup, Megan at Paperbook Princess, Jessica at Lovin’ Los Libros, Caitlin at The Road is You, Chelsea at Starbucks & Books Obsession, Meredith at Pandora’s Books, and Kathryn and Shelley at TSK TSK What to Read. Ladies, your tireless support and pimping of my books means so very, very much to me.
To my three boys and husband, I love you guys more than all the cupcakes in the world. Thanks for putting up with all my crazy writing hours. Mom and Dad? Thanks for always believing in me as a writer. To my friends and family who reach out and support me as I chase my dreams, I adore you all.
Last, but certainly not least, to you, dear readers . . . all the thanks to you from the bottom of my heart.
Heather Lyons has always had a thing for words–She's been writing stories since she was a kid. In addition to writing, she's also been an archaeologist and a teacher. Heather is a rabid music fan, as evidenced by her (mostly) music-centric blog, and she's married to an even larger music snob. They're happily raising three kids who are mini music fiends who love to read and be read to.