Page 23 of Wolfgang

And yet, despite that, here they were, in separate rooms, that beautiful body hidden away from him, just as Eric had hidden his vampire features from Wolfe’s gaze. To be denied the closeness they both so clearly wanted in this transitional time, just to soothe Eric’s newly awoken temper…

It should have been annoying. Infuriating. Too much to bear.

Especially with Wolfe’s own beast clamoring in his head, mindless and yearning.Time to claim our mate. Take him. Bite him. Fuck him deep.

The thing was absolutely relentless in its new one-track focus.

And really, Eric had looked so delicious sitting on their temporary bed, his blond locks disheveled, his robe barely managing to contain that gorgeous, broad chest, with its smattering of blond fuzz. He’d been hungry and irritable and out of sorts, and Wolfe had wanted nothing more than to pin him down and bite every inch of him.

Alas, it hadn’t been the time.

But Wolfe couldn’t access the proper irritation for his plight. Instead, he found himself oddly intrigued, almost delighted by this turn of events. Eric was—on the surface, at least—a people pleaser above all else. He was the kind of human who wanted to be wanted, liked, desired—even if only for a single night at a time. For him to be so petulant with Wolfe, commanding him…

Wolfe’s lips twitched at the memory. “Turn around” indeed.

It was all a sign of Eric’s subconscious trust in him. Eric knew, somewhere deep in that willful soul of his, that Wolfe wouldn’t reject or leave him, no matter what games he played.

Was Wolfe’s cock currently straining in his slacks, achingly hard with the knowledge that his tempting mate was so close yet so unreachable? Of course it was. Did he want nothing more than to kick in that offending bedroom door and claim what was rightfully his? In every part of his rotten soul.

But, recent events aside, restraint was Wolfe’s gift, at odds with a psychopath’s usual impulsivity. It was a point of pride for him, really. And he had to admit their new bond was already tenuous, what with the traumatic way in which it had been forged. It was concerning that Eric was so exhausted after having just woken as a vampire, for example. Wolfe could only conclude it had to do with the doctor’s resistance to consummating their bond, either by touch, affection, or intercourse.

But to tell his dear doctor so would be fruitless: Eric would only think Wolfe self-serving. Conniving, even. And he wouldn’t exactly be wrong, even if it didn’t apply in this instance.

So Wolfe would be patient. He would wait for this petulant creature to come to him.

He’d waited patiently for an entire century already.

The women were back again.

Wolfe knew the pair was already aware of him—had probably registered his presence long before he’d registered theirs—but they kept up their study of watching the crowds go by. They were fashionably dressed in their dramatic coats, and Wolfe could smell the money in their clothing, as he had with every bit of their attire he’d seen the past few nights.

Envy gnawed at his gut. He should by all rights be wearing clothes just as fine. Not this single drab suit, pressed so carefully for repeated use.

Wolfe sidled up next to the park bench. “Looking for your next prey?” he asked, keeping his voice low enough not to carry past his intended target.

The taller of the pair, a pale, curvaceous woman almost matching Wolfe in height, with chestnut waves cascading down from under her chapeau, tilted her head up to look at him. “Pardon me?”

“Your next prey,” Wolfe repeated, gesturing to the people walking past on the path, some few kilometers away. “Your dinner.”

The first woman looked to her partner, a petite woman with luminous dark skin and matching ebony curls who had kept her eyes on the crowd during their exchange, a small smirk gracing her lips. “You were supposed to be keeping watch,” the chestnut-haired woman accused, managing to sound more fond than angry.

The smirk grew to a mischievous grin. “I was, Sybil darling. I knew he was there.” At Sybil’s shocked look, she let out a tiny, tinkling laugh. “What? I liked him. There’s something odd about him. Positively gives me the chills.”

Sybil narrowed her eyes. “I’mthe only one who should be giving you chills.”

The petite woman rested a reassuring hand on Sybil’s arm. “And you do, darling. He’s just intriguing is all. I thought I’d let him have a little peek.”

Wolfe cleared his throat, polite but pointed, eager to get to the matter at hand. He gestured with his chin to Sybil. “You were hurt last night. That man lashed you with a knife; the wound healed immediately.”

Sybil shot a reproving look to her partner. “Oh my, so you really let him seeeverything.”

Wolfe pressed on. “You told him to stop being afraid, and it worked. As if you tricked him somehow.”

The women continued to gaze at each other, ignoring him.

“Can you die?” Wolfe asked, unwilling to be deterred.

It was the petite woman who finally answered, to Sybil’s chagrin. “We can, technically, but it takes an awful lot.”

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