Page 174 of Dark Fate

He’s got a point. Maybe I should’ve clued him in, but come on, talk about bad timing. It’s not exactly sexy to hit pause and say, 'Hold up, your bro's hitching a ride in my thoughts.' Total mood killer.

"I’m not his damn keeper, Rhyland. It caught me off guard—and considering you’re bouncing around with a fuse shorter than a matchstick, that moment didn’t feel like prime sharing time," I snap back.

"Oh? Would you have mentioned it if I hadn’t cornered you?" Rhyland tosses back, full of accusation, giving me pause.

Would I have let him in on it or gone full lone-wolf detective as usual, letting my obsession with cracking the code get in the way of simple couple transparency?

"Exactly," Rhyland remarks, turning his back. "How can there be trust, any real depth between us, if you’re holding back bullshit bombshells? It’s supposed to be us against the world, Dani. How do we navigate this crazy if you’re unwilling to share with me?"

Crap. He’s right. Before I can stop them, the tears start falling. I’ve hurt him without intending to. Lucian is more than a friend; he’s practically family. After his last little circus act, Rhyland almost went full Viking slaughterhouse on him. I feared Rhyland would go off the deep end over this latest psychic party crash.

Rhyland exhales heavily, looking beaten down. "I’m partly to blame here," he admits.

Surprised, I dab the tears. "How’s this on you? How is his telepathic eavesdropping your fault?"

Rhyland wraps his arms around me, jerking my chin up to meet his gaze. "Because I should’ve been straight with you about how our blood plays out in humans. How we forge those mind links."

I lock eyes with him, seeking answers. That’s when it clicks—the memory of that day in the woods, Lucian’s blood, his plea for forgiveness. Apparently, they didn’t cleanse me as thoroughly as they thought.

"Are you telling me any vamp’s blood can do that mind-meld thing?" I connect the dots out loud.

Rhyland lays out the facts—it's not just about blood, but the relationship with the drinker. And it's more than psychic chitchat. The vampire gets it all, every quiver, every desire.

He spells it out: it’s not just fear. It entwines with desire, too.

"Don’t spin this the wrong way, Dani. Our connection is etched in the cosmos. You're my mate, and that's a bond nobody can break," Rhyland declares. "That’s why, once we claim our mate, we keep our blood to ourselves and—"

"And not become their personal snack bar." I exhale deeply. "So, why keep me in the dark?"

"I was banking on his blood being a bust, and I didn’t want to even entertain the thought that he could mess with you." Rhyland’s forehead thumps to mine, emotion in his eyes. "I prayed it didn’t stick."

His distress twists my stomach into knots. The last thing I need is Rhyland fretting over Lucian and his invasive trick. I’ve gotten a crash course in psychic self-defense—I'll have to maintain my mental fortifications.

"We need better communication. Seriously, what’s our next step? How long does Lucian's blood grant him access?" I prod for clarity.

Rhyland shakes his head, uncertain. "I don’t know—it’s uncharted territory. It takes a single drop."

He’s got enough on his plate. And Lucian? He’s not my type. I get that he acted to save me from the Grim Reaper, but knowing we’ve got a psychic peeper isn’t sweetening the bitter aftertaste.

"This doesn’t change anything between us," I assert. "I’m good at shutting him out, and I’ll keep it that way until his vampire hotline fizzles. Maybe more of your blood could drown out his echo. It’s been a while since I had…" Halting, I rack my brain to pinpoint the last time I had his blood.

Rhyland freezes, considering. "Maybe. Just swear you won’t chat with him in your head. I get you have a soft spot for Lucian, but I don’t like it. I know he’s sorry for what he did. We’ve just been waiting to see if it kicked in." His hands sweep through my hair, his voice fervent. "Just swear, Dani."

Firm and resolved, I nod. "Yes, I swear. Now, can you please give me your blood so we can move on?" The words roll off my tongue, demanding and laced with impatience.

Rhyland’s signature smile breaks through; his dimple is deep and charming. "Ask, and you shall receive. Just remember what this does to you." That message rings with a reminder and a warning.

His blood? It's sin, distilled to its essence. Facing what’s to come, I’m either about to practice self-restraint or succumb like an overcharged hormone machine.

Trust Lucian to be the ultimate nightclub-owning vampire with a touch of thoughtful host. Lo and behold, what do I find when I rummage through the bathroom drawer? A stash neatly packed with all the essentials, including period underwear.

Who knew Lucian was so up with the times?

Once Rhyland and I swapped our getups for something less 'Fae cosplay extravaganza' and more 'mortal chic,' we reached Lucian’s office. The moment we stepped in, there was Lucian, arms raised in mock surrender.

"Whoa there, trigger! Before you go all 'pew pew' on my ass, let me say this mind-meld thing? Totally unintentional. Our brain signals got scrambled, capiche?"

I hold up a hand, cutting off his excuse. "Zip it, Lucian. Look, I appreciate you having my back in the spooky forest, but this 'sharing is caring' with our gray matter? One-time deal. My skull's in lockdown. That’s how it stays."

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