Twelve Days of Hawtness

Day 6 | BOUND Little Bird - One: NELLE | A. Larksen

For my readers, who enjoyed the Mature Chapter Book ;-D I thought this might be the perfect occasion to share the Original Uncut version of Chapter Sixty-Five in BOUND Little Bird. When it came to updating the mature version of Chapter Sixty-Five and sharing it all with you, I wasn't sure how the scene would be received, so I erred on the side of caution (read: chickened out, lol) and removed parts of it and toned Graysen Crowther down, somewhat.

Now, here is the full chapter as it was originally written, in all its glory, with all the abrasive dialogue (that you guys know I love so much) and some extra Larksen heat.

Ava x

PS Anyone new to the world of BOUND, this scene can be read on its own. 

NAKED, GRAYSEN STOOD before me, scarred, tattooed—resplendent.

His sheer physical size enhanced by the shadows.

Breathtaking in his beauty.

I still hadn't looked down. I kept my unwavering gaze on his face, wondering what the hells I had done.

The shock of what I'd invited, the utter recklessness of it, was a slap in the face, and it had snapped me out of the wild desperation that had ensnared me. I hadn't been thinking. I'd been feeling, caught up in the wretchedness of death and grief and the hopelessness of being bound to The Horned Gods. How they held us, insignificant, in the palm of their hands, at the whim of their will.

All I'd wanted was to feel alive. I'd survived that bloodshed in the temple, when what had happened to Elyse could so easily have happened to me. What had happened to her parents could have happened to my family. I'd wanted a moment of respite from the soul-devouring guilt that I'd survived when they had not.

And I'd blatantly incinerated Graysen's clothes, silently asking for something for which I was no longer sure I was ready.

I stood, frozen, the broken, rotten alder tree behind me. The atmosphere had changed between us, crackling with intense uncertainty from me and, from him, pure hunger that scraped against my skin with sharp teeth.

He flicked messy locks from his forehead with his hand. Only the cowlick didn't settle into place. The hank of hair slipped back down, dipping just above thick eyelashes. The shine in his black eyes was almost otherworldly—the shine of a beast that hunted at night. The glint in their midnight depth was the edge of a sharpened blade—fixed on me.

What had I been thinking?

You weren't thinking.

I closed my eyes, gathering my courage.

Don't think don't think don't think—just give in.

And Graysen could do that for me. He could let me feel something other than overwhelming desperation and grief—a heavy weight tied to my ankle pulling me down, down, down beneath the surface of an algae-choked pond.