“I know. I couldn’t drink from you, and I was starving. I no longer drink from Penelope, if that makes you feel better.”
“It does,” she admitted. “But we could try again.”
“I don’t know if that’s a good idea, Reyna.”
“I should be a match for you, though.”
“Youshould. But a true blood type match is preferred. At least, that was what I thought before I drank your blood.”
Reyna put down her sandwich. “What do you mean?”
“Your blood is preferable to any other,” he said, staring directly into her dark eyes. “Youare preferable to any other.”
She flushed. That sent heat straight between her legs, and suddenly she felt very, very toasty. She unwound the scarf from around her neck. Not on purpose. She wasn’t enticing him. Or…maybe she was.
“I think Harrington must feel the same way,” Beckham added. She could tell the thought infuriated him.
“Why?” she asked.
“The fact that there was a security breach is only known to top-level employees. And even then, we don’t know what was breached. Or more importantly, who. No one knew that he had found a match, but we guessed. Well, I knew, but I had to act as if I did not. He tried to pretend he wasn’t doing better, feeling stronger, but he was.” Beckham turned back to look at her. “And now he’s not again.”
“Good,” she spat. “I hope he shrivels up and dies.”
“I’m not sure which scenario makes him more dangerous, though,” he said, considering. “When he had you, he could take on the world. Without you, he’s much more desperate. Desperate men do desperate things.”
“You sound as if you are speaking from experience.”
“I am,” he said.
But when she waited, he didn’t elaborate, so she went back to her meal. When she finished, she snuggled into Beckham’s side. His hand wove through her hair absentmindedly. Her side was pressed against his strong body, and he laced their fingers together. They sat there in the stillness of the night as the fire crackled before them. She didn’t care about anything else going on outside of this moment. She had everything she wanted right here.
“Becks?”
He kissed the top of her head in response.
“I want to know all there is to know about you.” Snow kissed her eyelids as she faced him again. He didn’t say anything, and she could see his eyes go distant. “Will you tell me your story?”
“It’s not a pleasant tale.”
“Please?”
He faced the skyline again with a sigh. She could tell he didn’t want to give in to her. That he didn’t want to have to tell her about his gruesome past. But she wanted to know all of him. Everything there was to know.
“You do not want to know what I once was…what I am still on the inside.”
“I do,” she insisted.
He whirled around, his fangs visible. “I am not the hero you have constructed in your story, Little One. I am the villain.”
Reyna reached up and gently ran her thumb across the fangs. Not hard enough to break the skin but enough to feel the sharp point. “Someone made you this way.”
He took her wrist in his hand, removing the temptation. “And would you believe me if I said I chose this?”
Reyna froze. “Did you?”
“Yes.”
“And would you choose it again?” she whispered.
