POV: Clara

Metal. That was the first taste of the night.

I didn’t leave the kitchen floor until long after the cramps had stopped, hands pressed to the cold tile and forehead against my arms. The queasiness had passed, but the trembling had not. My stomach felt hot and full, the steady pulse of his body under my skin no longer my own. Every time I murmured no it burned, a low, electric shock that ran from my ribs down between my legs as if the word itself were a lie.

The ...