“No.” Hex looks almost annoyed. A flash of something darker crosses his face. “I grew into adulthood too. I didn’t need you.”
There is something raw in his voice. Something that sounds almost like pain. Or regret. I can’t quite tell.
I swallow hard. My throat feels tight. “And now?”
“Now I want you,” he says with an arrogant toss of his head, one that flings his shadow hair over his shadow shoulders.
The movement would be ridiculous if it wasn’t so graceful. If he wasn’t so devastatingly attractive doing it.
“Lucky me,” I mutter.
Hex’s lips twitch. The smirk returns. “Indeed.”
We stare at each other for a long moment. The film is still playing on the TV. Someone is shouting about a bomb. I barely hear it. All my attention is fixed on the impossible creature standing in my living room.
“So, you want to start feeding on my fear again?” I ask.
It’s a terrible question. I shouldn’t ask. I probably shouldn’t talk to him at all. Isn’t that what they say? Talking to spirits is acknowledging them, it’s an invitation. At least, that’s what those YouTube ghost hunting people all say.
“No. I do not want your fear.” Hex takes another step closer. He is barely a foot away now. I can feel the chill radiating from him. It raises goosebumps along my arms and makes me shiver. “You’re not a child anymore, Adam. You’re an adult.”
The way he says my name makes my stomach flip again. Like he is tasting it. Savouring it.
“So?” I say weakly.
“So I need to feed on adult things now.”
He tilts his head and regards me intensely. More intensely than I have ever been regarded. Like he can see straight through me. Past my skin and bones and into whatever lies beneath. The salacious suggestion in his voice is unmistakable. Heat floods my face again. My mouth goes dry. My pulse is thundering in my ears.
“Adult things,” I repeat stupidly.
My brain has stopped working entirely. I’m just standing here, backed against a wall, repeating his words like a slightly deranged parrot.
“Yes.” Hex’s gaze rakes over me slowly. Deliberately. His eyes linger on my throat. My chest. My hips. “Desire. Pleasure. Passion.”
Oh my god. Oh my god.
My face is on fire. My entire body feels too hot despite the cold radiating from him. I’m blushing so hard I might actually combust. This cannot be happening. This is not real life.
“Go feed on someone else!” I blurt out.
The words come out desperate. Panicked. Please, please go bother literally anyone else in the world.
Hex appears even closer. One shadowy arm materialises by my head, resting on the wall right beside me. He leans in. Closeenough that I can see the way his edges blur and shift. Close enough that the chill from his presence makes me shiver violently.
“There is no one else. Only you.”
“Wh… What?”
That’s… a lot. Very romantic, or very cheesy. Depending on how you look at it. With a line like that, he could be my soul mate, or a sleaze ball at a bar.
My heart is doing acrobatics in my chest. I don’t know whether to swoon or run screaming.
“I can only feed on you. Because of our bond. Because of the imprint.” He shrugs casually. As if this is perfectly normal information. As if he hasn’t just turned my entire understanding of reality upside down.
I blink. My brain struggles to process this information. Struggles and fails spectacularly.
“Imprint?” I say slowly. The word feels strange in my mouth. “You’ve imprinted on me? Like a baby duck?”
