He nods. “I’m not reputed as a strategist.”
“And you’re good in a fight,” I remind Alistair.
“Not against monsters like these,” he spits the words, each syllable exploding out of him and slamming into me.
Monsters like these. He means monsters likeme.
He doesn’t have to say it. I know it’s true. The basilisk: poisonous, deadly, wild, other. Alistair finally realized we aren’t the same kind of terrible. It was bound to happen. Basilisks aren’t even accepted among other shifters, for fuck’s sake.
I roll over on my cot, effectively ending the discussion. I can’t help him with this. He’s going to have to soothe himself this time.
I wake abruptly as my cot dips. A hulking shape hovers over me, and I’m bracing to attack when I recognize Alistair.
“What’s wrong?” I ask. “Are you alright?”
“Fuck me,” he growls.
“What?” My brain is half asleep. His face is mostly shadow, partially lit by the embers of the fire, but he’s practically straddling me. I’m not against it, but this can’t be the best time. “The bed isn’t stable and Malach?—”
“That’s not what I—bollocks, I’m trying to check on you, Luca.I-I hurt you earlier.”
I yawn, the hazy relief of sleep tugging at me as I try to adjust to the fact that my bed isn’t being invaded by a horny vampire but a guilty one. “And you want to talk about it now?”
“Your expression,” he whispers. “It reminded me of your face when Celine didn’t say she loved you back.”
“Gods,” I groan. “Thanks for that reminder.”
“Be serious, please.” Alistair curls behind me on the narrow cot. His breath is warm against my neck. “I couldn’t sleep because... shit, Luca, I’m tired of hurting people I wouldn’t hesitate to kill for. I messed up with Celine and Casanell, and I’ll be damned if I do it with you too. I’m not asking you to fuck me, I’m asking you to put yourself first and not consider me at all.”
I shiver. He’s intense, even now. Still, the Alistair who crawled into bed with me isn’t polished and menacing—he’s just a guy who matters to me. And he’s admitting his faults.
“Ali . . .”
“What did I do?” he demands. His lips graze the shell of my ear, and it feels so good it’s difficult to focus on what he’s saying. “I need to know, so I never bloody do it again.”
“It’s hard to explain,” I admit.
“Is it? Or are you trying to spare my feelings?”
I open my mouth, then shut it again.Am I trying to protect him or myself?
“The monsters. They’re like me. I’m one of them, hated and feared. You think I don’t know that everyone in the universe wishes creatures like us only lived in their nightmares? If you put it to a vote, we wouldn’t exist, and maybe that would be for the?—”
Alistair grabs my chin and kisses me, nipping roughly at my lower lip. “Cut that out.”
“You told me to tell you what was wrong,” I mutter, the sting of my own words reminding me of the emotions I fell asleep with hours ago.
Alistair kisses me again, and this time I taste his frustration.
“Am I annoying you?” I whisper, yanking his fingers off my chin and dragging them to my hair instead. I’m outside my body. Disconnected from myself in a way that scares me.
“You are,” he growls. I arch into his lips as he drags them over the sensitive skin of my neck. “You’re not a monster, Luca. Not like them.”
I hiss and pull away from him. “Don’t pretend you didn’t see me shift. Fangs dripping venom, murder eyes attached to a huge, freakish snake?”
“That wrapped itself around Celine like a Luca-shaped bunker? Yes, I noticed.”
“I could have crushed her!”
