Oh, gods.“I was afraid of that.”
“Mm. Sooner or later, you’ll have to feed it again. It’s stronger than you are. It won’t give you a choice.”
My breath hitches at the abrupt, silken lilt of his tone. “What can I do?” I ask, equal parts miserable and strangely enthralled.
“There are mental and emotional wards you can put in place during,” he says. “With practice, they’ll temporarily keep the worst of the hunger in check. Keep you more in control. It’s not a perfect method. Unfortunately, there’s no such thing when dealing with forces we can’t completely comprehend. But with patience and practice, they can make a difference.” A hint of dark desire flashes in his eyes. “If you’d like, I can teach you how to put the wards up. Help you practice keeping them strong.”
Seeing as he knowsexactlyhow my monster “feeds,” there’s very little mystery as to what he’s insinuating. “It sounds like you’re rethinking your promise never tofuckme, priestess,” I blurt, unable to suppress the slight bratty edge to my words.
“Well. I might have been a bit hasty that day, but I made no such ‘promise.’ Believe me, the omission was deliberate.” His magnetic gaze travels over me, brimming with a familiar hunger that turns the tightness in my chest to flutters. “Goddess, Tiss. I’m not trying to be rude, but the truth is, I wish with every fiber in me that I could fuck you every damn day. All day long.” His voice is a velvet rasp, the space between us choked with desire. “Is it all right to say so?”
My skin flushing, I whisper, “Blue.”
“It’s not exactly a secret I’ve had any success in keeping.” His hand lifts as if to touch me, only to stop short of my hot and throbbing cheek. I hold my breath, my heart pounding, before it drops. “I’d never get tired of it. I’dalwayswant more.”
A shiver skips down my spine. “I’d like that very much.”
“If we go down this path together, we’ll need to be careful, Tiss.”
“Oh, I fully comprehend the risk involved.”
“Good,” he says, and it’s nearly a purr. “We’ll start at the beginning. Keep things simple.” He moves close enough that our knees brush.
“What,” I sputter. “Now?”
“Is there another time you’d like to reschedule for?”
“No,” I snort.
“All right, then.” He motions for me to place my hands in his. “We’re going to close our eyes and relax our minds together. Try to feel each other.”
Unsure what to think, I lay my hands on his upturned palms. The thread between us shivers the moment we touch. With heat flooding my bloodstream, I let my eyes drift shut. I focus on his warm fingers around mine, his grip steady and sure.
“That’s it. Can you feel me?”
“Yes?” Of course I can feel him.
“Not physically.” His soft laugh ghosts across my cheek. “I mean, can you feel me here?” He releases one hand to rest his palm directly over my heart.
My thoughts are buzzing with Sadrie ignoring me, the heat of his hand on my sternum, and the fear and doubt and endless wondering if I’ll ever be able to tame the restless beast I can’t begin to understand.
When will it come back? What will I do when it does?
“You’re struggling.” El’s voice pierces the mental racket, but his tone is neither judgmental nor displeased. Merely observant. “Clear your mind.”
“I don’t know how,” I whisper, adrift and unmoored within myself.
“Match my breathing. Think about how you feel when you’re doing something that brings you joy, like reading a good book. Enjoying a favorite food. Passing a test.”
I huff a soft laugh.
“Laughing with friends.”
“I have no friends.”
“You have me,” he says, and my heart leaps.
“Focus on that feeling and relax into the rhythm of our heartbeats. Be mindful of your body and mine.”
