Alistair narrows his eyes. “Because the rest of you love asking for help.”
“You’re deflecting.”
Luca crowds Alistair against the wall, advancing on him until their chests bump. “Are you thirsty?”
“Of course I am,” Alistair snaps. “I’m ravenous, but we don’t know what tomorrow might bring. I refuse to weaken one of you when I’m perfectly fine as I am. I’ve had far worse.”
I shuffle over to him. “So, your weakness doesn’t matter?”
“I bring the least to a fight.” Alistair braces his hand on Luca’s stomach, keeping him at arm’s length. “It’s the logical conclusion.”
“You’re not the least,” I argue. “No one here is more or less important than anyone else.”
Alistair’s eyes flash red. “That’s a nice sentiment, angel, but ultimately untrue. If I fall in a fight, what would be lost?”
“Everything,” I whisper, my voice cracking in the middle. “Everything would be lost.”
“You’re wrong,” Alistair says stubbornly.
Blood ripples through my veins. Boiling hot. I make an involuntary noise, and Luca’s jaw drops. Even Ciprian’s brow wrinkles. I try my hardest to wall off my temper, but I’m too slow. My feet move on their own, and then I’m shaking him—hands fisted in his shirt—shouting, “It’s true to me, godsdammit.”
“Angel—”
“Don’t angel me.” I sneer at him even as my fingers tremble. “Self-sacrificial isn’t a good look on you, Ali.” What’s gotten into him? Doesn’t he know what he means to me? To Luca?
I tilt my head and expose my neck. It could be a submissive pose, except there’s no part of me that’s in the mood to submit right now. My pulse throbs, heat roaring through my veins. I don’t care if we have an audience, but Alistair’s silence is infuriating.
After everything we’ve been through, it tastes like betrayal.
He gulps, then runs his thumb over my neck, caressing my fragile skin. “I don’t deserve to bite you.”
“If you keep tally forever, you cannot hope for happiness,” Malach says firmly.
Alistair hisses, primal and pained. I could give him space. Instead, I stand on my toes and press my neck to his lips. Instead of sinking his fangs in, he kisses me instead, dragging his lips over my skin.
“Bite me, Ali,” I say. “I’m ordering you to.”
He laughs. “Do you plan to make me?”
“If that’s what it takes.” I shove him against the wall and pin him there, reminding us both that while he may be faster, I’m still stronger. “Would you rather bite me or explain why the blood bags made you sick?” He never explained his illness, but I know him. There’s no way he doesn’t have a theory by now.
“Celine,” he groans, scraping his fangs against my throat. “I-I can’t.”
“Can’t or won’t?” I pull away and try to hide my hurt.
This is my fault. Alistair loves his secrets too much to be fully honest with me, yet I keep letting him in and expecting things to be different. I can’t change him and I don’t want to, but I’m done being on the outside. He can either let me in, or I’ll see myself out.
“You don’t understand,” he says, agony overriding the bloodlust and returning his eyes to crystal blue.
I shake my head. “You don’t know that, because you never give me a chance. You have a choice, Ali: make yourself vulnerable and trust that I won’t betray you, or choose to be alone.”
He frowns. “That’s it? Spill my guts or fuck off? That’s not fair!”
“Maybe not.” I drag my fingers through the tangles in my hair. “But I can’t let you break my heart again.”
TWENTY-ONE
Monster Realm Survival Tip #34:
