Page 25 of Consume Me
I double back to the bathroom and pick up the comb. Working fast, I break off a few teeth and slide them into the waistline of my shorts. Better than nothing. Or that’s what I tell myself.
Not that it’ll do a single thing against Noctan’s wolf if he decides to come for me. Except maybe offer him a toothpick to clean my entrails out of his mouth when he’s done with me.
When I return to the main room, he’s sitting on a low couch in front of the fire. His jacket lies discarded on a nearby chair, and his white dress shirt is untucked, the first couple of buttons undone to reveal a broad chest and just enough of a glimpse of hard, muscled lines. My mouth goes dry, and I look away.
A bottle of whiskey and two glasses sit on the table in front of him.
I dart a glance back to his gorgeous face.
His eyes flick up to meet mine, and something molten passes through them. The way he studies me, his thorough perusal not missing a single detail, has me off-balance. No, more than that. It has me ready to do just about anything he asks. Sing, dance, get on my knees. Ugh. I’ve been attracted to other males before, but never like this. Like one word from him would have me stripping down to my bare skin and offering myself tohim like a feast.
I sit at the far end of the couch, back straight. “Is that for me?” I nod at the whiskey.
“If you want it. I can find some wine or?—”
“I prefer whiskey.”
He cocks his head. “I thought you might.”
A strange familiarity spears through me. Like we’ve done this before. Shared a nightcap. A lifetime. An intimacy unlike anything I’ve ever dreamed possible. And love. So much fucking love.
It leaves me breathless.
Not like the other visions, which are mostly death, and mostly thanks to the daggers using me like some kind of vessel to store their murder, mental reels. This feels pure. Beyond magic. Some vision borne from my very soul. Carried from one lifetime to the next.
I don’t say anything as he leans over and pours for us both. When he hands me my glass, his fingers brush mine.
The buzzing in my head, a constant hum that reminds me I’m connected to the darkness, winks out then returns the second I pull away.
I don’t let myself think about any of it as I tip my glass up and drink. It burns on the way down, and I welcome the distraction. When the glass is empty, I hold it out.
“Refill?”
He lifts the bottle and pours me another.
I drink that too, willing the alcohol to calm my racing thoughts. It’s never enough to get me drunk, thanks to supernatural metabolism. But anything to take the edge off right now.
Noctan’s eyes on me are a touch all their own,but I ignore it. I ignore every impossible thing flaring to life inside me as I look at him and say, “Tell me what you know. About the daggers. About destroying them.”
He doesn’t speak right away.
When he does, his voice is low. A warning. “The Whispering Daggers are a threat older than time itself. I’ve been hunting them for four centuries.”
My chest tightens. Fourcenturies? I bite back the urge to ask how freaking old this beautiful male actually is. Instead, I ask, “Why?”
He lifts his own glass but doesn’t drink, merely staring into its liquid depths. “Because they used their last bearer to kill my entire cadre and I swore a blood oath to avenge them. I cannot stop until the oath is fulfilled.”
I blink. “Cadre?”
“There were five of us. Makim, Liara, Frek, Skol, and myself. Together, we served as sentinels.” I can hear the distance in his voice. As if he’s reliving another lifetime.
“What’s a sentinel?” I ask.
“We are chosen warriors of the fae realm. Shifters whose fae blood is gifted by the gods themselves with power and strength beyond our normal fae brethren. Since the time our beasts matured, we’ve been tasked with guarding the fae people, protecting them. We serve no leaders but ourselves and the gods and the land. No mission or agenda but the one to defend against any threat to our people and our freedom. My cadre… They were my pack. No one else.”
His family. They were his family.
“You lost all of them to the daggers?” I ask, my own familiar grief wedging itself in between my ribs. Thewhispering and hissing in my head are nothing compared to the pain of that loss. For him to lose his entire family in one day... It’s awful.
