Page 75 of Scorned

As I stopped pacing and glanced at Marcus, he appeared as if he had witnessed a toddler having a meltdown. “Feel better yet?”

“Not really, but it’s whatever.” With a huff, I retook my seat at the computer desk. “I’m just a traveler with a lifetime pass on the hot mess express.”

Marcus crossed his arms and leaned back in a relaxing stance, wearing what I liked to call his “dad” face. “When was the last time you fed?”

My thoughts flew in multiple directions. “Shit. I don’t know. Over a week ago, I think.”

“Maybe you should eat.”

“I doubt Lyric wants me feeding from her right now. I’d have to drink one of the blood bags.”

“Then go get one from the fridge.” Marcus uncrossed his arms and headed toward the door.

“Wait. You’re not going to give me any words of encouragement?”

He glanced over his shoulder, his deep brown eyes locking on mine. “There are times we have to lie to protect the ones we love. It doesn’t mean the lies didn’t hurt them in the process. Give her a sincere apology.”

“That’s it? That’s your deep Marcus wisdom?”

“Sometimes it’s the simple things that make the most sense.”

I scowled. “What the fuck does that even mean, bro?”

“Get your ass off the hot mess express and figure it out.” Marcus smiled his pearly white teeth like he had all the answers in the world but wouldn’t give them up for free, then left the cabin.

I stared at the door for a few seconds before letting out a sigh. Marcus was right about one thing. I needed blood.

A part of me wanted to ask Lyric if I could feed off her. Knowing if I did it would lead to sex, my mind spun with images of her beautiful naked body. I decided it wouldn’t hurt to at least mention it.

The music was louder than normal as I headed out the door and toward the people gathered around the fire. Most of them were sitting on logs or in lawn chairs, but Kimber, Vivi, and Nellie were dancing.

“I see a nosh pit forming,” I said, approaching Heston and Demetrious.

Demi scrubbed his hand across his short red beard. “Nosh? Like food?”

“Yeah.” I pointed to the people swaying to the music. “It’s what I call dancing humans. Like a mosh pit but tastier.”

Heston laughed. “Nosh pit. Now that’s fucking funny.”

I took a seat by him and leaned my elbows onto my knees. “What’s been up with you guys? Enjoying the night?”

“Aye. And enjoying a drink under the full moon,” Demi said, his Irish accent thicker than normal. He held up his glass, never looking away from the dancing people. “These ladies are gonna be knackered from throwing shapes all night.”

I stared blankly. “What the fuck does that mean?”

Heston scoffed. “He means they’ll be tired from dancing. But I’m not going to complain. I’m enjoying the view from here.”

The music turned to “After Dark,” by Tito and Tarantula, and an image of Salma Hayek dancing in a movie entered my brain.

My focus diverted to Lyric when she joined the other women, now dancing seductively next to the fire. I couldn’t help but lock my gaze on her body as she rolled her perfect, curvy hips. She was an amazing dancer, just as good as Salma, and I had to forcefully pull my eyes off her.

I glanced around and almost everyone here was watching the women. Knowing Lyric had the attention of other men caused a fire to fill my chest, my jaw clenching.

“Whoa,” Heston groaned before sniffing the air. He cocked his head to the side and glared at me. “Salty and smoky. I never thought you’d be a jealous man.”

I flexed my fingers repeatedly as I lied. “I’m not.”

“You know damn well wolven can smell emotions, Winnie.”

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