Malachi
I was terrifiedof Scotty's reaction. Since turning, I hadn't been afraid of anything. Not the dark, not monsters, not natural disasters or violence or disease…
This, however? I was deeply afraid.
It wasn't just the delectable scent of Scotty's blood and omega pheromones. It was a deeper, stronger feeling, one I'd never recover from if he disappeared from my life. It was an ache deep in my soul.
I knew I had to have him.
I knew he was mine.
He was my fated mate.
And now I'd just confessed the truth of what I was. Any smart human would run. There were ones I thought were foolish, of course—they were all downstairs getting their blood drained by my fellow vampires. But Scotty signed up for this without knowing anything. Nobody would blame him if he chose his own safety, if he ran fromThe Bat Denand never returned.
If he did, would I hunt him down? With the way my heart seized around him, I was starting to think the answer was yes.
Maybe I wasn't so different from other vampires after all.
When I confessed, I searched Scotty's face, anxiously waiting for his response.
He started to laugh.
"I know that already!" Scotty said, still grinning. "It's okay, you can tell me for real. What's in the waiver you wanted to tell me about so badly?"
Oh dear. He thought I was joking. Perhaps this would be harder than I thought.
"Scotty," I said gravely. "This is no laughing matter. I'm serious."
He stopped laughing. He tilted his head, observing me.
"Oh, I get it. Are you anotherkinor something? Sorry for laughing. I'll take your identity seriously."
This silly, naive, adorable human was bamboozling me.
"No. Scotty, I am a vampire. My fangs and claws are real, as is my desire to drink blood."
Scotty blinked. His expression of non-judgmental acceptance now mixed with confusion, yet he wasn't scared at all.
Maybe if he was to fully understand, I had to show him the truth.
"Please, sit," I said, gesturing to the bed. There were no other places in the room for him to retire.
Scotty sat dutifully, still eyeing me like a puppy dog waiting for its next command.
I approached him with care, not wanting to frighten him despite his apparent lack of fear, and paused a foot away. Then I kneeled to be less threatening. He followed my every movement with curiosity. When I had his attention, I opened my mouth and let my fangs shine on full display.
"Whoa," Scotty murmured. "They do look real..."
I raised a brow to silently say,That's because they are.
"Could I... touch them?" Scotty asked.
My frozen heart flickered like a candle flame. The idea of Scotty caressing my fangs filled me with twisted delight. I gave a small nod.
He reached delicately for my fangs as if he was about to touch a priceless artifact rather than weapons of death. His fingertip landed on the base of my canine tooth, pressing against it with enough force to discern what it was made of.
"These really aren't plastic, huh?"
