“I am in love with you, too.” I hold out a hand to fend off his oncoming protest. “I have never said anything more sincere in all my years. Since I first saw you, since I first turned you… It is all for you, Grant. Every part of me is yours.”
His mouth drops open, breaths coming faster. “Y-you can’t… I mean. You—” Grant shakes his head. “You serve the Hunt. The Huntsman.”
“And you. You, Grant. I do not know how to make this plain to you.”
His smile trembles, but it lights me up from the inside all the same. I tug on the hand I am holding, drawing him a little closer. He stands between my parted thighs, and the faintest tremble goes through him.
“I will tell you every day, if you wish it,” I say, even as it heats my face to utter the words aloud. I have never pretended to be a demonstrative man. But should that be what he needs…
“Yes,” Grant says and leans in closer, breath ghosting over my lips. “Here. Between us.”
“Will you have the others know?”
“That you’re mine?”
Something dangerous and possessive curls in my stomach. “Yes.”
“Of course.” Grant presses his lips to the corner of my mouth, then leans back. “They’ll know as soon as they look at us, won’t they?”
“Yes.”
“And I’m yours? Likethat. Like, more than just your turn?”
I cannot blame him for his doubt. Not when I have my own. Instead, I reel him in and cup the back of his neck and when our mouths meet, he lets out a muffled groan and surrenders. I pull him as close as he can be, soaking up all that heat, and when that is not close enough, I twist and tip him on his back on the bed, climbing swiftly over him.
Grant arches his back, pressing down against the knee I have planted between his thighs. I find I want to kiss the hollow of his throat, so I do, and when my tongue flicks out to taste his skin, I fancy I taste the sun on him despite his recent shower.
“Vlad…” Grant pulls my hair, draws me up so he can take my mouth and lick inside. I am surprised that I do not mind, though perhaps I should not be. I will allow him any liberty he should ask for, and this does not even feel like one. His hands trip over my shoulders and chest, another groan escaping from deepwithin him. I have never felt so light as this, the worries of the Hunt a distant concern, for later, for someone else, for—
A phone buzzes on the side table and we both freeze, though Grant recovers first, nose bumping against mine as he faintly laughs. “We should’ve started earlier.”
I growl in response. I do not wish to be interrupted. I do not want to stop, to be parted from him by even an inch. Grant’s eyes darken and his gaze falls to my lips, but when the phone buzzes again, he shakes his head and gives me a rueful grin.
“We’ve got to—Don’t makemebe the sensible one.”
I lower my head and nip at the skin of his throat. There is only one mark here.Mymark. The scar I left when I turned him. I did my best, despite everything, to make it as unobtrusive as possible, but now I am glad for it, and when I dig my teeth into the spot, Grant pants in my arms, pushing against me.
“Fuck, Vlad,” he whines, desire dripping from every syllable. “We have to—There’s so much to do, but I want—”
He turns and we kiss again, still clumsy as we learn each other, hands wandering, lingering, and maybe we have enough time, maybe…
Someone knocks on the door. The wards reach for me. Asher. Grant drops his head back onto the mattress and groans, then takes me in with one sweep of his eyes. They linger at the bulge in my pyjama bottoms, which throbs under the heaviness of his gaze.
He groans again. “I’ll get the door,” he says, and there is a spark in his eyes even as he does not sound amused at all. “You get dressed.”
v
plink, plinkas it cools. Wind rushes over the fields, through the trees.
How do I hear any of that? I hear my heartbeat too, going far too fast, and the rush of blood in my ears.
And the pain. The pain is suddenly all-consuming, for seconds or minutes or hours, I can’t tell. It doesn’t subside. But I need to do something, need to focus. Need to drag my mind back together so I can get out of here, get help.
Help. I need help. I open my mouth, but the sound that emerges is weak and ragged, and that only hurts more. The next sound is a sob, catching in my throat, and I taste the copper of my own blood.
Help. Why is there no one here? I stare out into darkness. No one for miles, maybe. I’m not sure where I am. Where I drove to. I was…
I was running.Away, but not from danger. From hurt.
