Unwise.
Something that had been carefully, stupidly building over three weeks shattered in my chest.
I was so sick of this. Sick of him switching personalities on me. Evading my most important questions, or just refusing to answer them at all.
Going warm and cold on the daily.
And knifey on the nightly.
My rage didn’t just spike this time. I lunged, leaping at him wolf first.
“No.”
Just that single word.
And then my back slammed into the ground, and Diarmuid’s heavy weight was on top of me, my body pinned beneath his, one hand wrapped around my wrist so tightly that I had no choice but to drop the knife.
The strange bulge inside his stomach pressed into me. Even now. Even pinned and furious, that fact registered with an inconvenient clarity.
He supposedly had no relation to a snake, but his eyes flickered and he let out a hiss that reminded me of one. “Do you wish to kiss us so badly that you would attack us while we are still shelled?” he taunted.
I growled. I wished I could say I was fighting to get free, but he had me pinned so thoroughly, all I could do was flex under his hold, my hips shifting beneath that thick bulge.
Not on purpose.
“I hate you!” I growled so he’d know it wasn’t on purpose.
“That is not what we asked.” His emerald gaze flicked over my face. “Do you wish us to kiss you?”
“Why should I when you won’t even admit?—”
“Answer the question, Dorie.” His breath steamed between our mouths, a sweet cloud of forest and peat. No hiss. Only command.
I so badly wanted to say no. One word. Two letters. But it wouldn’t come.
I couldn’t be vicious, so I settled for petty. “Why should I answer your questions? You’ve barely answered any of mine, especially when you’re in so-called training mode. Why are you keeping me prisoner? Why can’t I see the rest of the castle? What do you think you’re protecting me from?”
“Dorie…” His voice took on a note that was half amused, half censuring. He lowered his face, lips hovering. “If you wish to kiss us, you may do so.”
The amusement faded from his eyes. “Reverence. We are yours.”
Mine?
Was he serious?
“How could you say that? Just a minute ago, you were claiming kissing me earlier was unwise!”
“Stop this stupidity! I refuse to engage in this topic with you until you answer my questions!”
“Okay, be straight with me, are you currently undergoing treatment with your alien therapist for a split personality disorder?”
That was what I should have said.
But I couldn’t because, suddenly, my lips were occupied. I kissed him, picking back up where we left off. But not really….
The first kiss had started as a question and slowly caught fire. This one skipped the question entirely.
His mouth crashed down on mine with the force of something that had been held back too long and had finally broken through. There was no gentleness in it. Only want. Immediate, undisguised, and… honest. It felt like this Diarmuid version of my fated mate was being honest with me for the first time.
