Page 50 of Revenant

As if sensing my unease, the volatile kiss gentles, and their touches turn soothing. By the time Ellis lifts his head, I have myself somewhat under control. My eyes flick open, and the rest of the guys retreat, though none of them go far.

I stare up at Ellis with new eyes, my view of him shifting. I always thought he was attractive, sexy in an understated way that no one else seemed to notice. Now, when I look at him, I don’t see the quiet but sexy nerd. Instead, I see a man who knows what he wants and is determined to claim it.

I flush under his gaze. Though I haven’t been around many men, I refuse to feel shy after what we just shared. Life and death have a way of changing your views of the world. I might be a virgin, but I know what I want now, and the thought leaves me giddy.

I want each and every one of them.

Together, they make me feel whole and safe for the first time in my life.

They make me feel special. They treat me like I’m a person and not a freak. It’s addicting, and I know I will never get enough of them.

For me, they are it.

There will never be anyone else.

When I don’t run from Ellis, heat darkens his brown eyes. Then his expression gentles, a cocky smirk kicking up the corner of his lips, and he runs the back of his knuckles down my cheek, like he can’t stop himself from touching me. “Better?”

That’s when it clicks—my panic attacks. He kissed me just like he promised, his attention better than any drug. I cup his jaw, permitting myself to touch him freely. He stills, then leans into my hand, his eyes never leaving mine. “Yes, but you will need to be careful. Keep kissing me like that, and I might become addicted.”

His eyes light up, a dimple popping in his left cheek when he tries to hold back his pleased grin.

“I would be okay with that.” His tone is husky, his expression slightly bashful, but the intensity in his brown eyes is as sharp as ever. He rubs his thumb along his bottom lip, as if he is thinking of kissing me again.

As much as I want that, I reluctantly draw back. I very much doubt the doctor will allow us much time by ourselves before he demands our return. Blowing out a disappointed breath, I twist until the guys are in view, and I study each of them carefully. They scan me from head to toe, their gaze’s possessive, though their expressions are grim.

“You’re worried that I was drugged as well?” Because of course they would be more worried about me than themselves. They’re the most stupid, idiotic—and sweetest—morons ever. I shake my head to banish the thoughts, needing to focus on keeping them safe and not my feelings.

Who knew it would be so hard to keep control of those slippery suckers?

“I already have an ability. There is no point in injecting me.” Just when Ellis opens his mouth to protest, I hold up my hand, barely resisting the urge to smooth out the furrow between hisbrows. “The doctor is ruled by logic. He wouldn’t risk injecting me with anything, not when he has yet to be able to observe what I can do.”

Ghosts hover at the periphery of my mind like wolves circling their prey, and I rub the bridge of my nose to ease the strain it takes to keep them at bay. “I need each of you to tell me your symptoms. These tests…”

I swallow hard, but my throat is too tight for any more words to emerge.

“What she means is that very few of the test subjects survive being injected.” Jaceson is grim, worry knitting his brows. His fists are clenched, like he wants to fight an opponent, but it’s a little too late.

The guys look at each other, as if wondering who might live and who might die, then absolute denial hardens their expressions.

“Not happening.” Hicks glares at me for good measure, like any of them have a say in the matter. I wring my hands, scrambling to figure out how to shove the horse back into the barn after the fucking barn burned to the ground.

A stupid idea hits me, one so reckless that it just might work. I sort through the pros and cons, but one thing keeps popping up.

Do you want them alive or dead?

“Pookie…what are you plotting?” Jameson strides toward me with a glimmer of interest in his eyes. “You’re wearing thatI have a bad ideaexpression on your face.”

I’m not sure if he’s excited about the prospect of getting into mischief with me once again or worried I will do something without him. I nibble on my bottom lip as I look up at him, then I hold out my arms. “I was severely burned yesterday, yet today, I don’t have a single mark.”

In fact, every bruise is gone.

Jameson scowls, madness glinting in his eyes. He gently grabs my arms, then twists them back and forth as he inspects every inch of my skin for the aforementioned injuries. Unblemished skin gleams under the harsh lights, so pale that it looks like I’ve led a pampered, sheltered existence my whole life. My lips twist in derision, my body a mockery of the horror that I’ve survived.

It’s hard not to feel like my own body has betrayed me.

Sure, it diligently healed me over and over, but it also erased the proof of what I had to endure.

How much more will I be able to survive before my mind snaps?

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