Page 177 of Shadowblood Souls
“I already have excellent control,” Jacob mutters.
I can hear the roll of Andreas’s eyes in his dry tone. “You have excellent control until you get so wrapped up in it that your brain short-circuits.”
Jacob grunts, unable to argue against this point.
Zian looks down at his hands, flexing his thick fingers. “I feel like practicing with the smaller shifts helped me get a handle on it. But it’s hard to tell when we’re not in the middle of a battle anyway.”
I glance at Dominic, who’s sunk onto one of the benches by the dining table. He must have given our situation plenty of thought—that’s what he does.
And I have no idea how today’s experiment went for him. He hasn’t said anything about it.
He still hasn’t said much of anything, period. Not since he threw off his disguise to leap to my rescue.
My stomach twists.
When I was wounded and refused to say anything, he insisted on helping. Just now he rushed to my defense, regardless of the consequences.
I want him to know that I’m here for him just as much. That I believe he’s on my side enough that I can be on his side too.
I push to my feet. In these small living quarters, there’s no way to do this without being obvious about it, so the other guys will just have to deal with being excluded.
“Dom,” I say gently. “Could I talk to you for a minute?”
His head jerks up. He blinks at me, looking a tad dazed.
Has he been considering Rollick’s offer—wondering whether he should cut the monstrous part of himself right off, possible consequences be damned?
Jacob and Zian watch us too, puzzled and maybe even a little wary. I ignore them.
Something firms in Dominic’s eyes. He gets up with a determined energy to his stance. “Of course.”
I motion for him to follow me.
There’s really nowhere we can go that’s at all private—and has space for both of us to comfortably fit—except the main bedroom at the back of the RV that the guys have declared mine. As I step inside, seeing the bed right there, my pulse wobbles.
I don’t want to sit on that while I’m in here with him. It reminds me too much of the things I’ve spent so much time longing to do with all of my guys—of the things I did with Andreas in memories that are now soured.
I glance around and hop up to perch on the ledge beneath the TV. My legs dangle against the drawers built into the wall there.
Dominic slides the door shut and stands a couple of feet away from me, looking me over. Concern darkens his eyes.
“Did you get hurt when those pricks attacked you? What do you need?”
Oh. That’s why he came so easily—he thinks this is about me again.
It never even occurred to him that I’d noticeheneeds help.
I swallow thickly. “I’m fine, Dom. But you’re obviously not.”
His stance stiffens. “I’m totally okay. They didn’t even touch me.”
I hold his gaze. “Not with fists or blades. I know it couldn’t have been fun hearing the way they talked about you.”
Dominic’s head droops. He shrugs. “It doesn’t matter. It was nothing I didn’t already know.”
I make a rough sound. “It isn’t true. There’s nothing wrong with you—just because you lookdifferent, doesn’t mean you’re horrifying.”
He lifts his eyes just enough to study my expression. “The tentacles bother you too, though, don’t they?”
