Alistair shakes his head. “I doubt the sarcasm will help.”
I drop onto the couch and cross my ankle over my opposite knee. “I’m being sarcastic because this is bullshit. Even if it did somehow work, I’m not biting Celine. It’s too risky.” I narrow my eyes at Riven. “Did you even ask your mysterious contact what could happen if it went wrong?”
“I did,” he says.
My eyebrows shoot up. “And?”
“She wouldn’t say.”
“Perfect.” I slap my thighs. “Come here, Celine, and tell me where you want my teeth.”
“Behind your lips for now,” she says, frowning at me. “You’re not taking this seriously, Luca.”
My foot drops to the floor, dislodged by my bouncing knee. “Take what seriously? Him?” I point at Riven. “How can you expect me to do that when he waltzes in here with a preteen’s fated mate daydream and tells me it will stick if I just believe?”
Celine pushes up from the couch. “I expect you to believe in us. I expect you not to give up. I’m sorry.” She backs away from me and shakes her head. “I need a minute.”
Then she’s gone. Malach trails after her, and I feel like a rat bastard.
“Good work,” Ali says.
“Fuck off,” I hiss, rolling my lip ring between my teeth until it hurts. They don’t get it. They aren’t the problem, and they didn’t get their hopes up for a real solution only to hear a load of bullshit. “It’s not possible,” I mutter.
“Are you sure about that?” Ciprian squats in front of me and presses down on my knees to hold them still. “Because you’re buzzing right now. What does your basilisk think?”
What does my basilisk think?Fuck if I know. It’s going insane inside me, crashing against its enclosure, demanding I shift and—my blood chills as my fangs descend and coat my mouth with venom.
“I can’t bite her, Ciprian.” I run my tongue over the needle-sharp points. “I’m venomous. It would kill her.”
“Are you sure?” he asks gently. “Because I accidentally made eye contact with you in basilisk form in the arena, and I’m still standing here.”
I frown. “Are you saying I’m only deadly sometimes?”
Ciprian shakes his head. “I’m saying intent must matter more than you think. Your basilisk didn’t want me dead, so I’m not.”
“You don’t know anything about it,” I say stiffly. I’m dangerous. My basilisk is a killer. Suggesting otherwise... No, I can’t accept that.
“Maybe not, but I was raised with shifters. They’re ruled by instinct. Accidents happen, sure, but rarely. They’re excellent at knowing the difference between pack and prey.”
“Basilisks don’t have packs.” I sound sullen, even to my own ears.
Ciprian’s black eyes sharpen, then he lunges, tackling me against the couch. I open my mouth to tell him to knock it off, but he presses his lips to mine and plunges his tongue into my mouth. It drags against my fangs, licking at the venom dripping from the tips.
I shove him off, heart pounding against my ribs.
“What the fuck is wrong with you?” I gasp. “My fangs. The venom.” I press two fingers to the base of Ciprian’s neck, sagging against the couch when his pulse beats its regular staccato rhythm. “Are you okay? How do you feel?”
He winks at me. “Not my favorite Luca flavor—your cum tastes better than your venom—but I’m fine.”
“Idiotic,” Alistair mutters, looking between us with red-tinged eyes.
“You’re deranged, demon,” Riven says. “Basilisk venom kills in seconds. Your death would have been excruciating.”
“Sure.” Ciprian kisses my jaw. “But proving my point was delicious.”
“Celine will be mad at you,” I say.
“No, Celine is mad atyou, Luca.She’ll be pleased to hear I was proactive and removed one of your excuses on her behalf.”
