Page 89 of To Challenge a Wolf

“Personally.” As he said it, he met her eyes. The tiny chips of glittering blue looked the same as always, yet different. Almost as if they were moving.

Was he inviting her to ask? Really ask? “But you…were born…before she was?”

“Yes,” he said, and the word was a song.

“You’re older than a century.” It was as far as she could take this. Asking his precise age was off-limits, she knew in her bones.

Another melody, complete in itself, fell from his lips. “Yes.”

“Why are you—what are you—are you hypnotizing me?”

“No, Vivian. I’d never do that, even if I could.”

“Then why do you sound… Why do you look…?”

“Because I’m letting you in. I can’t answer that question without letting you in.”

“Letting me see…you, all of you?”

“Not all. But more. There, you’re about to get lightheaded. Look away from me now.”

Lightheaded? No, she wasn’t. And his eyes were so perfectly beautiful, she had no desire to look— The room spun. She lowered her head to her knees and gasped.

Blaine gave a groan of frustration that sounded…normal. Like himself. Nothing musical, nothing alluring. “You’re so stubborn, child.”

“So they tell me,” she muttered against her legs. “Fate’s sake, Blaine.”

“Take a minute, and the dizziness will pass. Will you join me in the kitchen when you can? I need to slake.”

“How about I join youafteryou slake?”

“If you prefer.”

She did prefer. Definitely. Until he’d left the room, until her dizziness lifted and her curiosity returned full-force. She got up and went into the kitchen.

Blaine sat at the dining table with a twelve-ounce juice glass filled with dark crimson liquid that could not be anything other than what it was. No chance of mistaking it for cranberry juice or even wine. Vivian gulped. She’d never watched a vampire slake before.

He arched one eyebrow as he set a wide, straight plastic straw into the glass. “Sure?”

“If you don’t mind me gawking like you’re a science project.”

“All right then. Don’t be alarmed when my fangs descend. It’s a physiological response to the taste of blood.”

“That seems backward,” she said.

Blaine shook his head as a slow smile spread over his face. “Right. I should have known you wouldn’t fear me, even if I suddenly developed forehead ridges.”

“Nah. Not you.” On the other hand… “But please tell me you’re not about to do that. For your own sake.”

“I’m not.” He flashed her a rare grin. Then he drank from the straw.

She definitely gawked.

Blaine didn’t sip; he gulped. Drained the entire glass in seconds, without pause. A strange flush rose in his cheeks, then just as quickly faded away. He smiled but didn’t show his teeth.

“Oh, come on,” Vivian said. “You brought it up; now you have to let me see them.”

Blaine’s lips pulled back, and it was real. His top canines were longer, pointed. Obviously razor-sharp.

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