I look at him without a second thought, meeting his dilated pupils and I see he is bearing his fangs at me. His grip on my hand is harsh. He squeezes my hand like I’m made of concrete and he’s trying to break me.
Something in my head tells me he’s struggling, too. Because he has a bloodheat. Like me.
Chloe insinuated as much, and though I thought she was crazy, I know as I look at Wesley right now, my gaze traveling from his blown pupils to his shaking arms to his…
The evident outline of his cock in his pants draws my attention like a magnet. My insides twist and my pussy clenches as saliva coats my fangs. He lets out a feral hiss.
He moves us back, stumbling on his feet, his hand gripping mine tight.
“Look atme,” he begs, and I meet his gaze once more. And then I see it. Behind the lust, there’sfear.
Wesley Castor is afraid of me.
And he should be.
I gasp as I tense, nearly stumbling and falling over because that look is enough to break my stupor. He loosens his grip and tugs me once more and I follow, my legs working of their own accord, separate from my brain.
My brain is a mess of chaos, blood, and harsh truths.
This…
This is why my father kept me locked up in my bloodheat. Because I’m amonster.
My memory falls back to that human I kissed. His blood on my tongue, his soft moans and pleas.
I wanted to devour him. I wanted to feel his skin beneath mine, wanted to feel his pulse inside me. But I never got the chance to devour him like I planned because my father stopped me. He pulledme off that human and told Ptaris to lock me in my room until my bloodheat had disappeared.
And now I understand why he did it. I’d garnered it was just him being overprotective, trying to maintain my purity, so I would be a good offering, but…
Perhaps it was for my own safety as well. Perhaps I am more dangerous than I thought I was. Because I’m fairly certain, most vampiresses don’t throw a roomfull of vampires into bloodlust.
Not like I just did.
Tears prickle my eyes as the truth hits me. I let Wesley lead me, his hand softening in mine. My stomach hurts because I am hungry, but I don’t think I can eat. I don’t want to. I’m afraid of what may happen if I do, right now. I don’t trust myself. I don’t know who I am right now.
“Hey.” Wesley’s smooth voice pulls me from my thoughts, and I realize we are back inside the vampire’s dormitory.
The light from the chandelier refracts off the floor, dancing like pixies across the room.
I look up at him with tearful eyes, noting his have gone back to normal. He swallows harshly as he takes two steps towards me, his hand still in mine. He reaches out with his free hand and tucks some hair behind my ear.
“It’s okay, Ivy. You’re okay.” He says the words like he’s trying to convince himself, rather than me.
“I’m so sorry, Wesley, I?—”
He shakes his head. His hand cradles the spot on my neck below my ear, his touch warm and comforting. I keep my gaze trained on him, seeking the comfort his gaze brings me, even though I know I shouldn’t want it at this moment.
“No, I’m sorry. I… all I wanted was to apologize and then you went into heat and I—” He licks his lips, grimacing and I take a step closer to him. Our chests press together and he takes a step back, his back hitting the banister of the left stairwell, the one that leads to my room.
He lets out a heavy breath, but he doesn’t let go.
“I lied,” he whispers, his mouth dangerously close to mine.
“About what?” I ask, my gaze drifting to his pouty lips. They look soft. Pillowy.
I want to bite them, want to see his blood pool against the pale pink of his flesh.
“You do frighten me,” he says, but the admission is dark and warm. Curious.
