Page 26 of Taming His Vampire Mate
Thierry dropped me abruptly. If I had been human, I’d have fallen flat on my ass, but my reflexes kicked in and I dropped into a low crouch.
I stayed there a beat, throat throbbing, staring up at him and trying to figure out what the hell his problem was.
Was this because he knew I was a wolf now? But c’mon. He’d met a naked man in the woods under a nearly full moon—what else would I have been? Or was it because he didn’t like sleeping with people once he knew their name? Was he worried I’d tell someone? Or that I’d get attached and want more than he could give?
Wolves do jump into relationships fast. When we know, we know. But if that was his worry, he could relax. Sure, Thierry was painfully, heart-wrenchingly gorgeous, but what was under all that dangerous beauty? Probably an icy void where his emotions ought to be. Instead, there was probably just violence. And inhuman hunger.
“Don’t worry, vampire,” I growled, straightening. My body’s healing abilities were already erasing the ache in my neck. “I prefer my men with a pulse.”
His expression went colder, eyes flashing. As if I’d just confirmed his worst suspicions.
“If you go near James, I will flay you alive,” he said, his voice low and deadly. “I will take you apart with excruciating slowness, piece by—”
“What are you talking about?” I cut in.
He blinked.
“When you said you like your men with a pulse, I assumed you were—”
“You thought I was talking about James.” That made sense, sort of. But why the hell would he care what happened to the human? Mystified, I added, “I wasn’t.”
Thierry’s lips pressed shut. His frown deepened. He stared at me like he was reading my soul—or, more likely, my heartbeat.
“You will accompany me because I have no other choice,” he said at last. “But you will not miss a single opportunity to stay silent around me, if you have even the least bit of intelligence.”
I snorted. I could keep silent just fine. I had managed it for a month straight, despite sharing dreams with him every night.
Then my stomach lurched as I realized, all over again, just how bad this really was.
I’d seen the shock in Thierry’s face when the young warlock described last night’s dream to the council. The abandoned town. The ocean of blood. Thierry standing just out of reach. Word for word, it had been the same dream I’d had the night before.
And that was because we were having mate dreams.
When wolves find their true mates, the bond runs deep and fast. We can always find them. Over time, we sense their emotions, wants, and needs. It’s meant to help us provide for them. With Thierry, I’d probably only ever sense his thirst for blood, which I wasn’t about to satisfy. But most importantly, from the first meeting, wolves share a dreamscape with their destined mate. No one knows why. It hadn’t happened with Ian. But it had with the vampire.
Which meant it was undeniable, wasn’t it? Thierry was the one. The only one. And we’d find each other in our dreams every single time we slept, for the rest of our lives.
I tried to wrap my head around that and couldn’t.
When I stayed silent too long, Thierry sighed. “We will leave at midnight.”
I frowned at him, though I was grateful he had spoken. “In four hours? Why not sooner?”
“Since you’re clearly slow, I’ll rephrase. I will leave in four hours, which gives me adequate time to prepare. You can go whenever you like.”
“The California border is six hours away. That puts us in Rookwood at sunrise.”
“You’re an asshole, but perhaps not as dumb as you look.”
The jab confused me—why would he think that? The only reason I could guess was James. But why should he care? Surely he’d done worse. After all, how many of his victimswillinglyoffered up their necks so he could satisfy his thirst for fresh blood?
Before I could call him on it, he added, “And if you’re not at Nathaniel’s bar in exactly four hours, I’ll leave without you. And I’ll gladly tell the king you didn’t cooperate. Then you and your pack can fend for yourselves.”
“Fine. I’ll pick you up at midnight and we’ll drive down together.”
“Hardly. We will take two vehicles,” he said with a curl of his lip. “I’m certain your car smells like wet dog and desperation. I’m not subjecting myself to that.”
“Fuck you.”
