When Risa first came home with us and we tended to her wounds, she had hazel eyes that I only saw when checking for a response to light, unseeing and nearly devoid of life. But since she’s woken up, they’ve turned a brilliant shade of violet that makes it hard to look anywhere else. I’ve never heard of someone’s features changing after being turned, and though she hasn’t commented on it, there’s no way she didn’t notice after her shower yesterday; the mirror over the sink takes up nearly an entire wall.
She anxiously tucks her hair behind her ear, but doesn’t say anything about wanting to head back home. I file away the nervous tick for future reference, fighting to keep my hands casually in my pockets so I don’t overwhelm her. I know firsthand how hard the first few weeks are after being turned, an onslaught of sensations and confusion, and I don’t want to add any more stress to her transition.
It’s killing me though, because all I want to do is sink my fangs into her neck, to have her writhing beneath me and promise to stay with us forever.
The sire bond is no fucking joke. She’s the first thing I think of when I wake up, and the last image I see before falling asleep. If I thought this last week was hard with her not waking up? It’s nothing compared to last night. I spent it tossing and turning, knowing she was so close, but remained out of reach. I couldn’t be sure she was safe since I couldn’t feel her heartbeat beside me as I slept, her scent muted behind closed doors as she took Bane’s room so that she had a lock to hide behind.
And I still can’t get the intoxicating taste of her blood out of my mouth, wasn’t nearly prepared enough for that part of the process. We don’t tend to drink blood often, unless we’re gravely wounded and want to speed along the healing process, but plenty of people are into that sort of thing on the regular. I never thought I was one of them until Risa, but now, my mouth starts watering at just the thought.
She’s taken over every part of my life in such a short time that it’s terrifying, and the desire to have her brand me as thoroughly as we’ve done to her is hard to shove into a dark corner to be ignored. The impulse to make her mine so completely, have her baring her neck to me in submission, makes me feel no better than the wolves, but fuck, maybe they’re onto something.
“So what did you say they were again?” she asks, Stryker’s shirt hanging to the end of her shorts and making it look like she isn’t even wearing pants.
One of us has to make a trip into town, get her settled in. But hell, there’s something about her in our clothes, covered in our scents, that makes me want to put it off.
She makes me second guess every little thing, and I don’t think I’ll make it another week before she drives me mad.
Stryker answers, jumping at any sign she needs something, letting the bond become his damn personality with his obsession to please her. “Leopard and hyena; Carson and Parker. But honestly, that sort of thing only comes up in pissing matches.”
Bane cuts in, “Meaning it’ll come up. Anyone attempting to get on her radar is going to be boasting how amazing they are to try and make them look like a good prospect.” He turns to Risa with a wink. “But the bigger they are, the harder they fall.”
A small smile pushes past her anxiety. “You guys have the same venom as regular vipers, then? Since you’re some weird supe breed?”
I snort. “Better. Our scales stand out because we don’t have a reason to rely on camouflage. They choose to ignore that, it’s their own damn fault when they keel over.”
Striding up the path to their house, Parker pulls the door open as soon as we set foot on the porch, clearly eavesdropping. His robotic voice, saturated with fake surprise, has my eyes rolling. “I’m so sorry, I had no idea you guys were swinging by.” He stands there shirtless, an abundance of smooth, dark skin on display, shorts slung low. “Pleasure to finally meet the woman causing such a stir,” he states, extending a hand in Risa’s direction.
Slowly stepping forward, she glances at us quickly as if seeking confirmation that it’s okay. I’m torn between the wave of satisfaction I get at that, to know that despite her reluctance, she trusts us to help her navigate things, and hating myself for liking it. She wouldn’t elaborate on what things were like with her boyfriend, and the absolute last thing I want is to make her feel like she went from one controlling asshole to another. It’s a fine line, because fuck, the things I want to do with her would make a sinner blush.
There’s a huge difference between dominating sexually, and controlling what she does, yet still, I’d rather lock her in the house than parade her around the settlement. It makes me feel like such a jackass, and honestly, I’m going insane torturing myself over my warring instincts.
I want her to be happy, but I want her to be happy with me.
“Nice to meet you.” Risa shakes his hand, and to Parker’s credit, he releases it without trying anything, crossing his arms and leaning against the open doorway.
Without removing his eyes from her, he partially turns to holler into the house, “C, we’ve got company.” Not two seconds later, Carson appears on the stairs, descending to the living room with a towel wrapped around his waist.
Bane groans in exasperation. “Seriously?”
A flash of humor crosses Carson’s light brown eyes. “Couldn’t hear you over the shower, man, sorry. How were we supposed to know she’d finally woken up?”
Nails digging into my palm in my pocket, I lean against the porch railing, feigning casualty. “We’re happy to come back later after you two pull yourselves together. Hate to intrude, after all.”
“We’re not busy,” they say in tandem, and Risa tries to smother her smile, covering her laugh with a fake cough.
“So they’re not a bunch of whackjobs?” she asks, getting confirmation from an outside source to feel better. “You guys are really...?”
“Amazing? Yeah, it’s true,” Parker chirps and Stryker uses the back of his hand to smack him in the stomach.
Grinning, Carson rests an arm at the top of the doorway so he has room to join the conversation. “I know the shifter thing is kind of a mindfuck, but it’s really not that crazy if you think about it. Stories have to come from somewhere, after all. We’ve just spent decades trying to write them off as nothing more than ridiculous fantasies to seduce women or scare children into behaving. Wouldn’t be such a widespread concept if there wasn’t some truth to it, though the actual facts get lost in translation and vary wildly.”
Taking a deep breath, she tentatively asks, “Can I see?”
Wicked smirks light up Carson and Parker’s faces, while Bane wraps an arm around her collar from behind and pulls her into his chest. There’s no growling or snapping teeth like some of the others with less control of their instincts, just a silent warning. His pupils shrink to slits as he goes stock still, a snake coiled and ready to strike at the slightest provocation.
They might be shameless flirts, but they aren’t idiots. We might stay on good terms, understanding the value of connections in today’s world, but the whole safety in numbers thing is what broughtthemhere, not the other way around. The three of us were just fine before the others appeared and offered to remodel our house as they built theirs; creating a tiny community that hid behind the fact we warded off both humans and shifters alike.
Sharing a look with Carson, Parker turns back, scratching the back of his neck to answer her. “Um, maybe some other time.”
