Page 105 of Barbi and the Villain

He takes a spoon, but I stop him as I get a sudden idea.

“Wait.”

Grabbing a knife, I prick my finger and let a few drops of blood fall into the soup.

His eyes widen in surprise, but he doesn’t stop me.

“Now it’s personalized, too.” I wink.

“Hmm,” he murmurs as he takes a few sips. “It is good. But I think I prefer it straight from the source.”

My cheeks redden and I look away.

“I suppose you have earned that,” I murmur, extending my wrist toward him.

Since that night when he bit my neck, he’s never attempted to do so again. He only feeds from my wrist, keeping me a distance away.

He takes my hand, turning it palm up as his mouth hovers over my wrist.

I watch anxiously as I wait for the moment his teeth will sink into my skin—for the pain that is always shadowed by immense pleasure.

His lips skim my skin, making me break out in goose bumps.

I bite my lip, my heart slamming against my ribcage.

But just as his fangs graze my skin, the door to the kitchen opens and Jeya strides in.

Nykander doesn’t move. He keeps my arm next to his face as he regards Jeya with annoyance.

“Can you not see we are busy?” he asks dryly.

Jeya rolls his eyes.

“Oh, I can see. So can everyone else.” He points to the big windows that lead into the courtyard. There are some twenty-thirty kids and youths crowding the windows as they stare curiously at us.

Mortification swallows me whole and I pull my arm away from him.

“Why are you here, Jeya?” Nykander straightens his back, giving him a deadly stare.

“Aside from the fact that you are corrupting the minds of our youths?”

“W-what? We were not doing anything bad,” I sputter. “I was only giving him some stew.”

“Yes, I noticed that. He was really eyeing that stew,” Jeya says with a wiggle of his brows.

“What did I tell you before, Jeya?” Nykander narrows his eyes at him. “Mayhap you remember our conversation from three weeks ago.”

“And what if I decided not to…heed your words?” He tilts his head, amusement playing at his lips as he regards Nykander.

I look between the two of them, wondering what the hell they’re talking about. When had Nykander and Jeya spoken? What had they spoken about?

Nykander’s dark shadows emanate from his body, tendrils of darkness reaching toward Jeya. His irises turn black and the mood inside the kitchen suddenly shifts. There’s pure murderous intent coming from Nykander, and I can’t understand why.

“Nykander?” I ask, pulling on his sleeve. “There are children watching.”

That seems to momentarily stop him from going berserk.

Jeya smirks.

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