My throat tightens, a dangerous sting building. “With a gun to your back,” I whisper.
“Lived by iron, no surprise I’d fall by it, too,” he grunts, so close now that I can feel his breath on my lips.
“What do you mean lived by iron?”
His face goes dark and feral. “Spent most of my life an outlaw, primrose. Not a good man like Ash or Clay. Still have to square with that, starts with being truthful to you.”
“Have you killed people then?”
“Too many to count. Was part of an outlaw band with my brothers, used to haunt these mountains wreaking havoc. But I never killed no woman or child. Never was a savage like the Sentinels or the Wildblood hunters.”
“Your alien ancestors? And my human ones?” The words stick in my throat. I still can’t process the conversation we’re having.
“Yes. We’re both bad blood. Why our union is no good. But—” He looks away, jaw tightening.
I wait, letting my silence do more than words.
“But with you, there’s no resisting.”
Warmth pools in my chest. “I want you, Kael. More than I’ve ever wanted anyone before.”
“Really?” his voice cracks, rugged, scarred face more open than I’ve ever seen it.
He pulls me into his lap with one tug, wrapping his arms around me and pressing a kiss to my temple. His big hands circle my waist, thumbs stroking over soft flesh.
“Hope you like your girls a little curvier,” I whisper, self-consciousness seeping in.
“I like my girls like you.Only you,” he says, mouth descending slowly. His hand settles at my neck, his thumb sliding over the pulse point.
We’re so close I can taste him and still he holds back. Like there’s some invisible thing between us.
“What is it?” I whisper.
“If we do this,” his eyes search mine. “It could bring down something neither of us wants.”
“What do you mean?”
“The culprits in your bull mutilation. Maybe the ones who put the symbol in your field. Bloodless, tearless. Animated by living ghosts.”
A shiver travels the length of my spine. But all I can think about is his mouth, the sweep of his tongue as he claims me. “They would’ve already come for Ash and Jo,” I whisper. “But they didn’t.”
He pulls back slightly. “How do you know?”
“Because Jo would’ve told me.”
His eyes narrow. “You sure about that?”
“We may be new friends, but we’re also fast friends. So, yes, I’m sure.”
He shakes his head. “But you didn’t even know he was a Wildblood until me.”
I cock my head to the side. “I’d heard the term used in reference to him. Working at the café, I know all the town’sgossip. And Jo mentioned it, too. I just didn’t understand exactly what it entails,” I gulp air. “Still don’t, honestly.”
My eyes snag on crimson. Air escapes the hand I press to my mouth. “You’ve been shot.” My fingertips drop to his torso, carefully tracing blood.
“It’s fine.”
My gaze meets his. “But how?”
