Page 53 of Captive Hybrid

Chapter Eighteen

Zenna

Aidan closes the door behind us. As we left, we had a brief, almost-honest conversation, about my needing to be able to not feel like a walking, talking about-to-be-eaten hybrid, and landed on first, practicing my powers, then spying an exit from a safe distance without being caught. ‘Are you sure this is okay?’ I turn in a small circle around the room. ‘No one will care?’

The room is barely more than a bed, two side tables and a wash sink. I round on him. ‘This is a—a sex room, isn’t it?’

Aidan bursts out laughing. It takes him several moments to calm himself, giving a half-hearted attempt at covering his mouth. ‘A—a sex room. Ah, well, yeah. A feeding room, technically, but the two are often linked.’ Amusement sparks in his eyes. At my glare, he chucks my arm with his shoulder. ‘Come on, you said you needed privacy, right? Well, you can’t come in here alone. That someone would find suspicious.’

I eye the large bed, biting my bottom lip. Turning from Aidan slightly, I ask, ‘Won’t someone think it’s strange, you in here with me?’

‘Maybe, but they won’t say anything. Don’t worry about it. Look, I know you need to practice your power, so let’s give it a go.’ Aidan lowers himself onto the end of the bed. ‘You look uncomfortable.’

I realise I’ve crossed my arms over my chest, shoulders tight. ‘I guess I am.’

Aidan climbs off the bed. ‘You know we’re not going to…?’ His eyes dart to the bed, brows waggling suggestively.

I huff an awkward laugh. ‘No, I know. I’m not—I know that.’

‘Are you worried because people have fed in here?’ He closes the distance so that he’s standing in front of me. ‘Are you wondering if I’ve been fed off in here?’ His voice is low, concerned.

‘A little.’ My gaze slides slowly up his bare arms, trying to peer under the collar of his round-neck shirt, under his hair. There are bite marks.

Aidan just offers an understanding a nod. ‘Here. Focus.’ He holds his hands out for me.

‘You want me to stab you with my vines?’ Part of me is starting to wonder if he’s a bit masochistic.

Aidan’s mouth kicks up in a smile with wicked delight. ‘I want you to try.’ He wiggles his fingers. ‘Come on, little hybrid. If you can’t take on a witch, what makes you think you could take on a vampire?’ I open my mouth to tell him I attacked Evelyn, but he’s already shaking his head, eyes dancing. ‘Doesn’t count. She didn’t fight back.’ After a moment, he slightly dips his head, eyes darkening, taking on the persona of a would-be predator. Even witches can be predators, I remind myself. Like in that nightmare. And Mr Asshole in the alley who saw my fae marks.

I take a measured step back. I won’t be holding hands with someone attacking me. I try not to close my eyes as I fix my concentration on my vines, the way they snake over my skin, then rise from it, green and bright with wicked-sharp thorns.

But before I can loose them toward Aidan, to wrap around his arms, to pierce his skin, something bright shoots from his hands, sending me flying backward, luckily landing me on the soft bed. I scramble up with a huff. ‘What the hell?’ I demand. ‘Why did you attack me?’

Aidan smirks. ‘Do you think people are just going to let you attack them when you’re good and ready?’ The smirk fades. ‘You have to be faster than that. Come, let’s try again.’

I huff and scoff like a teenager, honestly, but I’m frustrated. I should have known better, he’s right. ‘Fine.’ I keep my distance this time—though that won’t prevent another blasting spell—but it makes me feel safer. This time, I meet his gaze, and summon my vines quickly and shoot them toward him like a lightning strike.

Aidan gasps in shock as the vines wrap around his arms, thorns slicing into his skin. ‘Ow. Well done.’ We both watch as blood blossoms from the dozens of small wounds, coating his arms.

I rapidly call them back. ‘Sorry,’ I murmur. It hadn’t occurred to me I could really hurt him.

He just shrugs. ‘Its fine.’ He steps over to the wash sink, grabs a cloth, dampens it, and wipes the blood off as though it were merely sweat. As though it’s the most normal thing he’s ever done. My stomach twists painfully as I realise it is. I half-turn, trying not to be sick.

Aidan catches me by the shoulders as my head spins. ‘Hey.’ He turns me to look at him. ‘Come on. Look at it. It’s nothing to fear, Zenna.’ He moves his forearm into my face, forcing me to confront the holes I dug into him. ‘Neither are these.’ He pulls the collar of his shirt aside, revealing more of his neck, red and fresh with bite marks.

He lowers us both to the floor, still holding me. ‘At some point, didn’t you want your wolf to mark you?’ He can see this is an issue for me. I guess I hadn’t realised how much.

Not trusting myself to speak, I nod.

‘Maybe that’s why this disturbs you so much,’ Aidan muses. ‘That rejection, the fear and pain you associate with him, you’re projecting onto me, this.’ He brushes a finger over the blood and bite marks.

‘I never thought of that.’ My voice is a whisper. I stare at the witch before me, feeling the warmth of his fingers on my shoulders. Slowly, I reach out a hand toward his throat. I brush his skin, still red and raw from several bites. There are about six holes in his neck. ‘Doesn’t that hurt?’

Aidan’s mouth crooks. ‘Probably less than being bitten by a werewolf.’ He meets my gaze as I lean back a little, measuring my reaction. He grasps my hand gently. ‘Yes,’ he says. ‘It does. But there’s something about… someone owning you, needing you, and trusting them that makes the pain blaze into something else.’ His eyes gleam. ‘Something very hot,’ he adds.

I would have thought I would laugh at that. Instead, I loose a soft breath, understanding dawning in me. ‘I belonged to him. Once. Or, I thought I did. I thought we would… you know. I thought he would mark me that night. I was a little afraid, but… I did want him to.’

Aidan takes my hand and trails my fingers over his neck with barely a wince. Whatever lingering pain he feels from the wounds he clearly isn’t bothered by. ‘These things are okay, Zenna, as long as they’re consensual.’ He loosens my hand as I find myself nodding. ‘Would you let him do it now? Mark you?’

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