Page 34 of Shut Up and Bite Me

Looping through my bedroom, I head back the way I came, racing past Greyson, gaining speed by the second as I descend two stairs. Something deep inside of me urges me to jump, to leap from the top of the stairs to the floor below.

An odd sensation courses through me, like a surge of power and strength from deep within surfaces for the first time. I don’t recognize it, but I trust it anyway.

Kicking off the step, I launch myself into the air.Holy shit!It’s like I’m flying. I soar high up through the sky-high room before gravity gradually pulls me down to the floor, ten feet further than I expected to land.

What the hell was that?

I didn’t even know that was something I could do; I’ve never tried it. I mean, I’ve jumped insane distances when I could get a good running start, but nothing compared to what I just did.

“Woah! That’s cool!” Greyson shouts from the top of the stairs, and as he meets my eyes, his face falters. “Your eyes are red. Are you hungry?”

My eyes never transform without my knowing, so the fact that they shifted without my realization is yet another thing to add to the damn list of weird shit going on.

“I mean, yeah,” I say breathlessly and honestly as I take the two steps toward the kitchen counter and rest my palms against the cool surface. “I’ve never done that before.”

He hurries down the stairs and stops at my side. “Really? Because you didn’t know you could or just didn’t try?”

“Both, I guess?” I shrug, feeling even more confused about everything going on.

“Wow, that’s pretty amazing though. I wish you could have seen it from my eyes.” He swoons. “It was beautiful. You looked so powerful. I ran around the corner, and you were thirty feet inthe air, plummeting to the floor with your arms raised at your sides, your palms up to the ceiling. But you weren’t falling in a scary way like you were going to get hurt. It was controlled and intentional. It was…” His eyes darken. “…kind of hot.”

My cheeks warm from his compliment, part of me loving how giddy he makes me feel and the other part of me wishing that he would stop being so damn sweet.

Forcing myself to keep him an emotional distance away, I murmur, “I suppose we should set some boundaries.”

“You want to do thatnow? After I’ve already been buried inside of you? I think we already broke all of the boundaries.” He laughs, and I find it endearingly annoying that I find even his laugh can be so attractive.

Rolling my eyes, I tap my fingers on the counter incessantly. “I mean for when this is over. It’s a contractual agreement. Once our time is up, we part ways and go back to our separate lives.”

My senses have been open to him all day, and I can’t help but notice the ache of pain from my words, like he got punched in the gut.

But I remind myself that it’s easier this way. Safer.

His words are cold while he smiles, pretending to hide his discomfort, but I can feel it deep in my bones. “I understand. That’s probably for the best.”

He knows this is temporary. I can live with ignoring the feelings growing between us as long as he’s safe.

I’m also tired of all of these conflicting feelings. I’m over it. I never should have bid on Greyson at the Culling. And then none of this would be happening. But even the thought makes my stomach twist because there is some part of me deep down that wants to be near him, no matter the risks.

The room gets hotter as my mind spins with everything going on. This was complicated enough with me publicly taking a bloodling. But now…ugh, it’s turning into something bigger, andI worry that I’m losing control, the last thing that’s supposed to happen right now.

The hair on the back of my neck rises. Opening my senses up, I search for the source, as if hundreds of invisible tendrils are stretching out from me, seeking the emotion of whoever or whatever has arrived.

Oddly, I’m thankful for the distraction from the mood-killing conversation I started.

“Someone’s here,” I murmur, pushing away from the kitchen counter and strolling over to the door.

I don’t recognize who it is, or rather whotheyare. Two of them. Young.

When I pull the door open, my gaze falls feet lower to two little girls in green vests pulling a wagon of boxed cookies. “Hi! Would you like to buy some Girl Scout cookies? We’re trying to raise money to go on a vacation.”

The other little girl slaps her arm lightly. “You’re supposed to say a trip, not vacation.”

They immediately remind me of me and Genevieve when we were younger. Her delicate blue eyes flash in my memory, slicing through my heart.

My senses reach two other humans. They’re here, but they are further away, probably their parents waiting in the wings.

“How much do you guys have left to raise for the trip?” I ask softly, bending down at the waist to be at their level.

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