Grigori grinned and the feel of his smile against her lips was the most exquisite pleasure she had ever experienced. It was a sweet intimacy in a moment built on the raging passions that would soon become an inferno and burn her to ash.
Suddenly, she could hear a murmur of a voice in the back of her head, a low rough chuckle that sounded like Grigori. But he couldn’t be talking, he was kissing her . . .
Love how she tastes, so sweet, so perfect, my little flower. I wish she would trust me, I would never hurt her . . . The voice faded but images began to flash in her eyes so brilliant that she felt she was inside him, feeling what he felt as a young man racing toward a cliff’s edge, throwing his arms wide and his body transforming, the pop and snap of bones, the stretch of muscles into wi
