Page 7 of Meet Your Maker: Part One

The tightness in his expression eases as he nods. “I do.” He takes a step back, his hand still holding mine, pulling me with him. “But more than answers, I need this…”

“Oh.” I blink, then warmth spreads through me as understanding dawns. “Oh, of course. You must be starving.” A smile curls across my face, heat rising in my cheeks. God, I missed feeding him. A shiver of anticipation runs through me—fuck, even my mouth is watering.

He keeps pulling me until the back of his knees hit the bed. His hands tangle in my hair, and everything else falls away.

Chapter Three

A Sequoia Fell in Love with a Mayfly…

— Sunday —

Kissing Grayson feels like falling—plunging from a thousand-foot cliff only to catch a thermal draft that lifts you higher and higher, the world blurring beneath you. It’s like flying too close to the sun and daring your wax wings to hold as you surrender to the heat.

“I’ve missed you…” His voice is a low vibration against my skin, threading through me. I meet his eyes and find a simmering hunger there that matches my own.

He traces the curve of my spine, pulling me closer, our bodies melding as if they were always meant to fit. My breath catches when his fangs brush my lower lip—a whisper of pressure, a promise of what’s to come. The approaching dawn ticks at the edge of my mind tightening the urgency between us.

Suddenly impatient, I push him back onto the bed and straddle him. My fingers twist in his hair, tugging his head back to expose his throat. I lean down, my breath hot against his skin. A rush of exhilaration surges through me as I take charge and feel the satisfaction of him yielding beneath me.

But then, doubt creeps in, unraveling my bravado. The versions of him in my mind collide. Alexander would fight back—tease and taunt, pushing me to the edge until we both shattered. But Grayson… will he welcome this kind of boldness, or will it drive him away?

I pause, suddenly unsure. “Do you remember? The dreams, I mean…” My voice falters, and I look away, my words tangling together. “I wasn’t sure how they worked… or what they meant, to you, at least.” I know what they meant to me.They were everything to me.

Like the heat before a summer storm, the question stretches between us, waiting to break and unleash a deluge.

“I do,” he replies softly. “They sustained me. They were the only thing that kept me sane. I looked forward to dying every dawn… because it meant I might wake with your taste on my lips, your scent in my nose, and a few moments of blessed clarity.”

His words settle over me, heavy and tender all at once. There’s a fragile, human vulnerability in his voice—unexpected and achingly beautiful. It touches something deep inside me, a part of myself I’m not sure I’m ready to show. My body stiffens, chest tight, stomach clenched with the instinct to protect what suddenly feels exposed.

I fumble for a shield, and humor rushes in like a reflex.

“Well, I about pushed Tomas to the edge of reason,” I laugh softly, the sound bubbling up before I can stop it. “Coming back from dreamland smellin’ like you.”

Grayson’s smile is slow and knowing, a flicker of amusement curling at the corner of his lips. But as his gaze finds mine, something in his expression shifts—like he can feel the tension I’m trying to mask. Instead of retreating, he leans into it, offering me something raw and unguarded in return.

“You and Tomas… you’re closer than you were before I was recalled,” he says, his voice quieter now, a thread of uncertainty woven through the words. His gaze flickers, landing just past my shoulder, as if unsure whether he’s ready to meet my eyes.

A small breath escapes me. “I like him. A lot. He does something for me. I can’t really explain it, but it’s like… there’s a part of me that’s been waiting for him. We just fit.”

The space between us fills with something quiet, undefined. Not tension, but a web of unexplored connections and unspoken truths. The moment feels fragile, words delicate, as if they might shatter whatever tentative understanding we’re building.

I search his eyes for doubt, for cracks I might need to mend, but all I find is patience. And when I reach for our bond, I feel it—a sad sort of acceptance, soft and unresisting, settling between us like it’s waiting for us to untangle it in time.

I push through the unease. “We fight sometimes,” I admit, my voice softening. “I’m stubborn, and he can be… overbearing.” Then I lift my chin, letting the truth land between us. “But I love him, Grayson. And I think he feels the same.”

He chuckles, a glint of something sharp and knowing in his eyes. “Oh, I’m well aware of Tomas’ many strengths… and yours as well.”

His gaze flickers away, and for a moment, I catch the shadow of something unspoken. Then he adds, almost to himself, “For the longest time, I thought…”

“You thought what?” I press, anticipation rippling through my chest, sharpening my focus.

He hesitates, his eyes shifting as if trying to escape a memory too stubborn to fade. Finally, he shakes his head and offers me a crooked smile. “It doesn’t matter now. I’m happy for you both.”

The change in his tone betrays him—there’s more to it, but I let it rest.For now

Then his hands find my hips, flipping us over in a blur of motion. He’s above me now, his body a solid, unyielding weight pinning me down. His heartbeat is slow and steady, a soothing counterpoint to my racing pulse. The temptation is too much—I arch up, my teeth grazing his Adam’s apple. When I bite downgently, I’m rewarded with the vibration of a near sub-audible growl.

“You’re playing with fire, Lover,” he murmurs, his fangs fully extended, the sound of my name giving his words the slightest lisp. I wouldn’t dare call it adorable to his face, but it’s enough to make me smile.

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