Page 17 of The Kill

I’ve clearly done something to anger him, but I can’t work out what it was.

“Excuse me?”

I haven’t met Seth, or Lucian, so I’m not sure what he’s getting at. Tyson huffs again, stretching across the table, and lifting the coffee pot, pouring me a strong mug, and passing me the milk. Even when he’s mad, I must admit he has good manners.

“So, you’re worried about Lucian, the vampire, but not Seth, the feral rogue wolf,” he clarifies bitterly, all the while spooning a selection of fresh fruits into a bowl and passing it to me along with some yoghurt and granola.

“Well, to be blunt: yes.” I stare hard at him as understanding dawns on me. “I understand wolves. I was rogue for years myself, as you know, but I know next to nothing about vampires.”

He leans back in his chair, arms folded across his chest, showing off some impressive biceps, and his shoulders are bunched and tight. So, he isn’t pissed-off: he’s offended. Or hurt.

“And you’re going to find out about vampires by locking yourself away in your room?”

Taking a sip of my coffee, moaning quietly in ecstasy at the creamy cup of heaven, I close my eyes, praying for strength. When I open them, Tyson’s heated gaze is locked onto my lips and I squirm. The bond pulls tight across the small distance between us, and I feel my insides coiling.

Even when he’s mad at me, he’s gorgeous.

The red in his eyes glints in the bright room, and I find it strangely hypnotic, not scary. I can’t stop myself from staring at his rugged features, even as he glowers at me across the feast he has prepared.

“Are we talking about all vampires, or just you?”

It seems like a reasonable question to me, but Tyson doesn’t appear to think so. Standing suddenly, he throws his hands out to the sides.

“I am a vampire. Maybe you wish I wasn’t, sometimes I wish I wasn’t, but that train has left the station, sweetheart.” Tyson raises his voice.

I know he’s mad, and maybe I should be terrified, but as he raises his arms, his t-shirt lifts, and my attention drifts to the slash of exposed skin.

I can’t stop staring at the few inches of rock-hard stomach, and the line of dark hair that disappears into his waistband. My mouth waters as I imagine tracing that with my fingertips, or maybe my mouth. The muscles in his chest and arms bulge as he stands there, glowering at me, waiting for an answer to a question I didn’t hear.

When my tongue darts out to wet my lips, his eyes narrow, and his expression shifts.

“You’re not immune to our bond, little mate, yet you’re so terrified of what I am that you need to barricade your door to keep me out?” Resting his palms on the table, he leans forward, and his scent floods my senses. “What’s it going to be, Mandy? Do you want to do this or not?”

I close my eyes and breathe him in, relishing in how his presence sets my senses alight. It’s heavenly and every cell in my body wants to get even nearer to him, to taste him, touch him, kiss him.

Doing this, whatever this is, sounds like a brilliant idea.

The hair on the back of my neck stands as he moves closer, his breath close to my cheek and his presence setting my nerves on edge.

“Whatever you think of me, I won’t break into your room to take you in the middle of the night. Much as I might want to. You are my mate to cherish and adore. I am nothing like that monster.”

I feel his body moving away like a loss, and my wolf whimpers. She wants him closer, not further away.

She wants to know what being cherished and adored feels like.

I should correct him. I could clear this up by telling him that it wasn’t him I was locking out, but myself that I was locking in. When I blink my eyes open and see the fury in his eyes, I know now isn't the time.

“If I thought you were anything like Lee, I wouldn’t be here. Nothing could make me go back to a life like that. Maybe I should be afraid of you, but I’m not.”

The fire in his eyes fades as my words sink in, and he senses the truth in them. Taking a step back, he seems uncertain what to do now that his temper is fading. When he finally takes a breath, and catches a hint of my arousal in the air, he looks confused. We stare at each other while the air crackles, unsure where to go from here.

I’m about to leave, needing to escape this overwhelming energy, but Tyson moves toward the end of the table, and I’m frozen in place, like a deer caught in headlights. My breath hitches as Tyson gets nearer, his attention locked squarely on me. Suddenly, the door crashes open and slams hard against the wall.

We both jump apart as a pale-grey, fluffy wolf bounds into the room. I shove my chair back as he brushes past and stands on hind legs, two paws on the dining table, snatching a danish off the platter.

“Seth! For fucks sake, get out!” Tyson looks embarrassed as he waves his arms at the animal, pulling the food out of his reach. Seth growls, the corner of his lip lifting and showing pearly white fangs digging into crumbly golden pastry.

Belatedly, the wolf registers my presence and drops back to all fours and sniffs. He lets out a muffled yip, nudging my thigh with his shiny, damp nose, leaving a smear of dribble and crumbs, then dashes for the door with his spoils.

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