What iswrongwith you?
The knife twinkled in his hand as he shook a little. “You truly have a death wish today, don’t you?”
“It’s your fault.” I groaned and hung my head. “What is it about you that makes me say things that I know are hazardous to my health?”
He gave a low, humourless laugh. “I don’t know...you tell me. You’re the only one reckless enough to talk to the monster everyone else wants to bleed to death.”
My heart physically hurt. “So you admit you’re not as cold-hearted as you pretend to be?”
“Oh, I’m not cold.” He shrugged a little too casually. “I burn every minute of every fucking day. The searing pain in my veins means I want nothing more than revenge on those who did this to me and if it wasn’t for the fact that your presence helps temper that pain, I wouldn’t bother being anywhere near you.” He grinned and traced the tip of the dagger along my neck. “Do you honestly think you would still be alive if I didn’t get some benefit from keeping you that way?”
I gulped, leaning away from the knife.
“I get it.” My chin strained upward, trying to avoid the cold kiss of metal. “I’ll stop. I’m sorry. I—”
“Quiet.” The dagger froze against my skin.
For a heartbeat, I thought he’d decided I wasn’t worth the trouble and decided to slit my neck, but a growl rumbled in his chest, exactly like Whisper.
Slowly, deliberately, he tilted my chin higher with the flat of the blade.
The cold edge pressed just below my jaw, angling my face into the light.
“Who,” he asked softly, almost politely, “did this?”
Chapter Thirty-Two
I BLINKED. I BLANKED. MY HEART thundered. “What?”
The dagger left my skin just as his fingers replaced it. He traced the thin, angry line Lydia had autographed on me last night. His touch was so careful, so gentle, it burned.
“Who cut you?” His voice shook with barely controlled fury. “Who dared fucking hurt you?”
I swallowed, heat rising into my face. “It’s nothing.” I couldn’t tell him what happened because that would lead to confessing I’d lost his blood. And after this fun little conversation where I’d learned the only reason he kept me alive was because I was some unexplainable pharmaceutical for his pain, no way did I want to antagonise him any further.
He inhaled sharply as his hand fell from my jaw, clenched into a fist, then opened again as if he couldn’t decide what to do with it.
“Was it those two who never leave my front steps?” The veins in his temples stood out; a shimmer of sweat appeared by his brow, making it seem as if he strained against some internal leash.
I tried to step away, to avoid the rage pouring off him but his hand lashed out and wrapped exquisitely tight around my wrist. “Answerme.”
Whisper slunk low to the ground, flattening his ears.
Lucien’s hand trembled around me, his jaw clenched so tight the tendons in his neck twitched. He looked...dangerous. Unhinged. Fury was a living thing, stalking under his skin, filling with pressure and hate and violence.
Our eyes snared and I drowned in him. In his rage and misery and pain.
Such,suchpain.
His teeth ground together just as a soft beep sounded. A flash of red appeared beneath his shirt. He sucked in a ragged breath as his spine snapped straight.
He stumbled, the dagger clattering from his fingers as he doubled over. Gagging on despair, his impossibly handsome face twisted, beautiful and terrible, his teeth bared as he clutched his chest with both hands.
“Fuck.”His knees buckled.
I caught him without thinking—my arms snapping around his waist, hauling his bulk against me, but it was no use. I didn’t have the strength to keep him upright and we collapsed together. Me beneath him—his burning, burning body crushing mine against the carpet. His head fell forward; his lips smashed to mine, entirely by accident.
He froze.
