He physically flinched, not something I expected to be sensitive. He pushed my hand away.
“It’s for scents.” He grimaced.
“Like a Jacobson’s organ?”
He looked at me blankly, lifting a shoulder up in ignorance.
I quickly moved back to my cabinet, shuffling through the many jars and vials. I picked one from the back and moved to the other side of the room.
Silas glared at me, frustrated at my lack of explanation, as he stared at the corner I stood in.
“Tell me what you smell and when you catch the scent,” I instructed, popping the cork off the jar. “Now?”
“No,” he said.
I took two more steps forward. “Now?”
“No.”
I began a steady approach. “Tell me when, and I will stop.”
He was silent.
I moved closer and closer until my knees knocked against his. I lifted the jar up to him. “Nothing at all?”
“Almonds. I could smell it six paces ago.”
“Why didn’t you say anything?”
“I wanted you closer.” He smirked, tilting his head down at me. “Are we done yet?”
“Are you trying to flatter me into ending early?”
“Very likely observation.”
“One more thing, then you can have your reward.” I picked up a glass vial with a cloth stretched over the opening.
His eyes narrowed at it before flicking back to me. “What is that for?”
“Venom. You have at least one set of fangs that contains it, correct?”
“Possibly,” he said prudently.
“I promise we are almost done for today,” I pleaded with him.
He grumbled before opening his mouth again, flicking his fangs forward for me. They were trembling, hoping to sink themselves into something. It was like they had a mind of their own.
I leaned in close, and our chests brushed against each other. I lifted the vial to the shorter, outermost set of canines. As the snakelike tooth sank into the cloth, venom sprayed spontaneously before slowing to a steady drip. The liquid had a golden tint, like watered-down amber.
Every muscle in his body felt taut, but I did not have to feel it to see how they strained during the process.
His eyes were closed now, and he seemed slightly flustered. Was it uncomfortable? Was his mouth that sensitive?
When I finished, I reached for a cork to plug the vial.
“There, easy.” I grabbed the tourniquet.
“Yeah, for you,” he growled, running his tongue along his teeth before tucking them back away.
