Page 148 of Obsidian and Frost
And it would have been solely my fault.
Absolutely not Lazriel’s.
I was the one who’d lost their fucking mind and not only struck an Immortal being, but made him bleed twice, and right in the presence of a vampire. And a vampire who didn’t feed from vein, the shock of Immortal blood in the air being all the more intense and wholly overwhelming as a result.
I, Sylas Morgrave, had lost control.
And that had cost Lazriel.
It had hurt him.
In his high state he wasn’t feeling that or acknowledging it, but once the effects of Cassius’ blood faded, I had no doubt that he would.
One of his greatest fears and the reason he discounted his vampire side a great deal, was losing control of the demon within, which was exactly what had happened with Cassius. All because of me.
Fuck,I felt sick with it.
Lazriel snagged my hands. “Come on. Wanna take a ride with me?” He wiggled his eyebrows. “You know what kind of ride I’m getting at?”
“Yes, that’s abundantly clear.”
“Then, come on, strip that hot-as-hell body naked and get up here on your back so I can ride your cock like a real demon.”
My body heated at his words, but I pulled my hands free.
That didn’t help, because then he ripped his shirt off. Literally ripped through it with his claws. And then his wild gaze held mine as he grasped his pants and went to open them.
“Stop.”
“Stop?” he asked, unable to read the room in his current state. “You, nympho necromancer, don’t want to fuck? I mean, normally you know I can go all night, but now, the way I’m feeling, we’re talking non-stop all the way into the next day as well.”
“I’m not feeling well, Lazriel,” I lied. Well, sort of.
Thatmanaged to get through. “You’re desiccating?” He jumped off the bed and came to me, then abruptly ripped my shirt open, buttons flying everywhere in his haste and him clearly not being in full control of his strength. The aggressive action knocked me back against the wall with a painful jar that had me grunting.
“Sorry!” he cried, retracting his claws. “Shit, I didn’t mean to—”
“It’s fine,” I assured him.
But it wasn’t enough. He still pushed my shirt off my shoulders and then scanned my body. “Nothing. You’re not desiccating.” He sucked in a harsh breath. “Thank fuck.”
“I just need to rest. I feel a little sick after I channeled such potent power against Cassius.”
“Okay, then rest with me.” He gestured at his bed. “I’ll take care of you.”
I started at his words.
Take care of me.
That was the issue, wasn’t it?
The reason I’d snapped and lost all fucking control with Cassius. He’d put me in that position. In the position of having others believe they needed to take care of me. In a positionframing me as weak, as an invalid. A position that undercut my power and most definitely my ability to control things. Especially how I was perceived.
When I remained silent, he started playing with my fingers, trying to hold them, even though I wasn’t reciprocating because I was using my mental fortitude to hold him off sexually, prevent it from getting to me,andto contain my seething at the rest.
“What’s this?” he asked, suddenly yanking on my hand and holding it up between us.
I glared at the ring how adorning my index finger.
