Page 90 of Tortured Soul
Chapter 26
Lola
Arc grinned, but narrowed his eyes pensively. “I’m not sure I should spill his secrets,” he said. “After all, our deal was that we’d answer questions about ourselves.”
“Not fair,” I retorted. “I answered a question you had about Dimitri.”
The scoff that escaped his lips was nothing but playful, and my heart felt like it was getting bigger in my chest.
“You didn’t answer. You deflected, only to give me a completely unrelated snippet of information. I didn’t ask what color his eyes were before, I asked what his Immortal parent was.”
I rolled my eyes. “Isn’t it the same thing?”
“Not for a Nephilim, no. Unlike the Red, the color that comes before has nothing to do with their lineage.”
I knew that. But I didn’t feel comfortable talking about Dimitri without him being here.
“I’m guessing Divine,” Arc mused. “His canines look sharper than mine. Or even Carter’s. But that’s because Carter never bit anyone.”
I tilted my head to the side in interest. Dimitri always got carried away during our intimate moments, biting me most of the time. Although I knew he thoroughly enjoyed the taste of my blood, I also heard his thoughts when his teeth pierced the skin. His bites were more about staking a claim, marking me as his.
Goosebumps spread down my spine at the reminder that his mark from this morning was still visible in the crook of my neck.
“Are the size and sharpness of one’s teeth related to the amount of time he used them before?” Curiosity filled me.
“It’s a factor, yes. That and age.”
My brows pulled down in a frown. “But…as a higher angel, Carter is ageless. Shouldn’t he have fangs?”
“He would have if he actually used them. He told me that, up there, when Divines drink blood, it’s never directly from people.”
I scoffed. “What, do they serve it in fancy jugs and crystal glasses?”
“Something like that.”
My jaw dropped. I was joking around, but was I right? I couldn’t help but picture Carter wrapped in a white sheet, large white wings spread, drinking red blood from a flute with his pinky lifted up in the air, surrounded by others looking just like him.
Wow.
That image was a far cry from the disheveled prick strolling around on earth.
“Is that funny?” Arc grinned.
“Extremely. But it doesn’t answer my initial question.”
Arc rolled his eyes and leaned forward, placing his elbows on each side of his empty plate, resting his chin on his crossed hands.
“It’s not my story to tell.”
“Come on,” I insisted, inching closer to him too. “Isn’t he my mate, whether he wants it or not?”
“Yes. And that’s why you should ask him directly.”
I groaned, fumbling with a piece of bread next to my plate.
“Idid. He got mad.”
Arc laughed, throwing his head back. My eyes couldn’t help but drink him in. His long neck, smooth skin…I didn’t have fangs but I kind of wanted to grow some just to sink them in it.
