Page 71 of Stitched Up in You
“I’ve had to turn on the generators twice because of the squalls and heavy storms popping up out of nowhere. Not tomention I heard her entire wardrobe is outfitted with tracking devices,” he snorts, laughing aloud.
I growl into the receiver, the lighting overhead buzzing as the electricity goes haywire, sending them blinking again.
“Don’t get pissy, Frank. Since when do you pay attention to a human? Want me to pop over and kidnap her away from you for a spell? It may lessen the mating bond, right?” he says, reminding me of how that’s what I forced Vlad to go through.
“Fuck you, Jekyll. Can you make up something that will repress my reaction or not?”
“Fine. Fine. I’ll try to put together something, but don’t get your hopes up.”
I groan as the line goes dead, and the video call ends.
Woo her,he says.
He doesn’t even know her. She’s abrasive, opinionated, and as headstrong as she is gorgeous. I can’t see her being able to follow simple directions, and she’ll drive me to madness within weeks I’m sure of it, but none of it matters. This feeling of possessiveness won’t dissipate, and the level of intense longing to be near her can’t be denied for much longer.
The gnawing pit in my stomach won’t stop expanding.
I’ve already tried letting off steam in the electric chamber, but the walls are too close, the cocoon it creates around my body is too much for my overloaded senses to handle right now.
I couldn’t stand to be in my bedroom either, not with soaked sheets still on my bed. Although I’m sure by now the ghoul maid service has already changed them.
Just the thought of her sends an arc of electricity pulsing down my arm and settling into my palm. I flex my fingers and will it away. Annoyed with myself even more, I move to take a seat on the bench outside the electrical draining pod.
This is ridiculous, I think to myself. Here I am yet again in trying to keep my surges of power under control. I assumedmating with her would prevent this from happening. Instead of calming the beast within me, it’s even worse.
Or perhaps it was her rejection of me that have set this about, but for whatever reason, no matter what I try, my power levels will not subside.
Cursing my inability to focus on anything other than what transpired earlier and her essentially noncommittal response, I get to my feet and make my way over to my walk-in closet and grab up a gray T-shirt and a pair of riding boots.
I grasp for anything to help get rid of this incessant and altogether unusual predicament I currently find myself in, mated to a human that I’m keeping hostage in my house. I put on the new shirt before making my way to the steps that lead back into the mansion.
A long ride on Brom ought to help. At the very least it’ll get me out of this house and away from her.
My nostrils flare as my boot heels sound across the parquet floors, making my way to the front door.
“Hey, what’s going on?” Bernadette calls out, her sweet voice echoing loudly.
I pause just before leaving and turn around to find her only a few short feet away on the stairs, her brows pinched on her expressive face.
She shudders, frowning at the flickering light of the chandelier. It hums and crackles with energy as she makes her way down the steps, and I can sense the worry within her.
I glance up at the muted green walls and massive chandelier hanging above the grand staircase, willing the energy to stabilize before my gaze lands back on her breathtaking form.
She looks beautiful, standing there in a sweatshirt and pants, her blue cat eyeglasses hanging precariously on the top of her nose.
She is altogether adorable and far too tempting. “Would you like to join me for a ride? I was on my way to see Brom,” I ask.
“Are you nuts? It’s about to storm out there,” she says, coming down the staircase, her gaze above me as she looks out the windows.
She looks like a dream wrapped in a wish and poured into a pink sweatsuit with tiny white socks on her feet.
With each step closer she takes, I can sense my power levels returning to an acceptable level.
When she gets within reaching distance of me, she reaches for my hand absentmindedly and a surge of possessiveness rocks me to my core.
She gasps, yanking her palm away from me in shock before lifting it to her face, and I notice an arc of electricity dancing between her fingers before it snakes up her wrist. “Oh my god, you’re doing this, aren’t you?” she states, tilting her head to look out the window before her narrowed gaze snaps back to me, her pretty face a snarl.
The storm outside quiets almost instantly, my erratic powers calming from her touch.
