Page 6 of Taste of Fate

“Yes,” I said with a hint of annoyance. “We don’t share.”

“Right, of course.” She flashed me a nervous small before turning to the open doorway behind her. “Come on out, Octavia.”

A figure appeared, her white dress a stark contrast to the dark interior behind her. She stepped across the threshold and approached us stiffly, shoulders tense and her hands clenched into fists at her sides.

Something about the tension in those fists screamed danger, like she’d used them as weapons before.

Her hair was loose down her back in reddish brown waves moving slightly in the breeze as she walked forward. The white dress was a ridiculous get-up, honestly. Were they going to happily inform me she was a virgin too?

It was her expression that intrigued me the most. Her clenched jaw, lips pressed tightly together, brow furrowed over alert, stormy gray eyes. With her face like that, along with her clenched fists and stiff movements, it looked like she was tensing every muscle in her body, bracing for something. Or holding herself together so that she wouldn’t fall apart in front of everyone.

She was pretty in an unexpected way, keeping all the wild intensity in her posture like a tempest in a tea cup. It suited her, like she had been shaped and molded by holding lashing winds and a fiery temper within her.

This woman would not be easy prey, and my fangs throbbed with a dull ache. Despite knowing she was human, knowing her blood would be bland and plain in my mouth, the predator in me wanted the challenge of melting that steel from her spine. I wondered what it would take to make this storm-filled woman calm and compliant in my arms, baring her neck for my taking.

I swallowed on nothing, ignoring the pulse in my fangs as I stepped forward. To taste this woman would be to commit myself exclusively to her blood alone, and I’d do well to remember I was not signing up for that responsibility.

“Octavia, is it?” Remembering the human custom of a handshake, I stuck my palm out. “I’m Cyan of Blood ‘til Dawn. It’s a pleasure.”

She stared at my hand and then at my face, eyes narrowing. I swore she clenched her fists even harder, and said nothing.

I dropped my hand and tried to offer a smile that looked comforting. Fangs had a tendency to make that difficult, though. “As you are my blood pet, I’m what’s known as your verakt. Roughly, it translates to protector. You don’t have anything to fear.”

Verakt was an ancient term that had no real translation in English. Protector was the closest match, but it also carried the weight of something like master. Not exactly in an ownership sense, but more as the more dominant, stronger one in the relationship, which circled back to protector.

The woman, Octavia, continued to squint at me wordlessly. This time seemed more out of confusion than fear or hate.

“Alright then.” My hands clapped together awkwardly and one of the guys, probably Des, snorted behind me. Ignoring them, I asked my new pet, “Do you have any personal items you’d like to bring with you?”

She blinked, seeming taken aback by the question. “Why?”

Now I was confused. Did we or the humans misunderstand something? I slid a glance at the older human woman, who seemed intent on avoiding eye contact with any vampires. I then looked over my shoulder at Thorne, who offered up a helpful shrug.

Turning back to Octavia, I said slowly, “Because you’ll be living with me?”

She blinked several times as if fighting back tears, then took a slow, shaky breath. “No. I don’t have anything.”

I found that hard to believe. Humans and vampires were both fond of having sentimental things. There were also basic necessities like clothing and toiletries that all people needed, but my blood pet had been offered to me empty-handed. I scanned the faces of the gathered humans, wondering why they were handing over this woman with nothing but the clothes she wore.

“Okay, then,” I relented and angled my head toward my bike. “Let’s go.”

“Go?” Octavia stayed rooted to her spot, her brow furrowed again with confusion.

“Yes.” Maybe she just wasn’t fully there mentally. In which case, no blood from her would ever touch a vampire’s lips. Our clan had strict laws about informed consent from any living blood source we took from. “You’re my blood pet now, my responsibility. I’m taking you to my home where you will be cared for and looked after. Do you understand?”

“You mean,” she frowned. “You’re not going to just drain me of all my blood right now?”

My fangs throbbed like that was an excellent idea, which didn’t make any sense. I went to the blood bank right before we drew straws. I wasn’t hungry. But the thought of tasting this woman was a temptation I couldn’t seem to shake.

“I’m not sure what happened during the last Selection,” I said. “But that’s not how we do things.” I leaned in close, until my mouth nearly touched her ear. Her little gasp at my nearness had my teeth aching.

“Look, this is enough of a circus as it is,” I whispered. “Being chosen as a blood pet is a privilege. Feeding from one isn’t a spectacle. It’s personal. Intimate. Not something to gawk at.” Her pulse accelerated in her neck and it was so damn distracting that I had to pause for a breath. “After casting you out, they’ve gawked at you enough, don’t you think? So let’s get out of here and settle you into your new life.”

When I straightened, her expression had relaxed somewhat. Her jaw and lips remained tense, but there was an understanding in her eyes. A calm in her storm.

“Can I just say goodbye to someone first?” she whispered.

“Of course.” I nodded and took a step back. “Take all the time you need.”

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