VIOLET
I couldn't tell where anger ended and desire began. Every inch of me screamed for vengeance—had to kill him, to end the nightmare of his possession, his claim over my very soul. And yet, even as that resolve burned in my veins, my body—betraying me—craved his touch.
I lay in the darkness of my small room, the silence broken only by the echo of my ragged breath. My thoughts collided in a violent storm. I pictured Zain's fierce, burning eyes, the way his hands had almost made me his, the way that cursed mark on my shoulder pulsed with life when he touched me.
How can I hate him when every fiber of my being aches for him? I wondered, clenching my fists until my nails bit into my skin.
