Page 38 of Last Shot at Love

“This morning, it was arousal, and just now, it was happiness from your compliment,” I answered honestly, my chest tightening.

She had brushed off the talk of my venom this morning, but I needed to tell her everything.

“Beryl, did the agency tell you exactly what I am?”

Her gaze slid from mine. “I didn’t read the file. It didn’t matter what you were, only that you fit into my plans.”

Something akin to shame flitted across her face, but it happened so fast I thought I might’ve imagined it.

I patted her thigh, trying to reassure her I didn’t mind. “Octopuses are incredibly adept at squeezing themselves into tight places.” Realizing it might have sounded like I was talking about certain parts of her anatomy, I added, “I mean, like your schedule.”

“I still don’t understand why you were so incredibly agreeable to my demands,” Beryl murmured.

“You were clear about your needs and expectations. I appreciate that.” Catching her chin between my fingers, I lifted her head. “If you didn’t read the file, then you don’t know what I am.”

Her eyes met mine, and her brow creased in confusion. “Yes, I do. You’re an octopus shifter. You told me that last night; it was kind of obvious in the pool and this morning.”

“There are multiple species of octopus shifters. I’m a blue-ringed octopus.” Holding my breath, I waited for her reaction.

When Beryl remained silent, waiting for me to elaborate, I rocked back on my heels.

“Do you know what that is?” I questioned.

Beryl sniffed indignantly. “Of course I do. I’m not an idiot, unlike the tourists who film themselves holding the tiny blue-ringed octopuses. One of the most venomous creatures on earth, capable of killing twenty-six adult men within minutes, blah, blah, blah—”

I couldn’t help it.

I snickered.

Her eyes narrowed on me as I tried to hide my smile behind my hand. “I swear, if you make a Dracula joke right now, I’ll drain your blood… venom or not.”

“But you said, ‘blah, bla—’” My terrible attempt at a Dracula-like accent was cut off when she shifted forms.

She lunged toward me, her fangs digging gently into my skin but not puncturing it. “Another word, and I’ll bite…”

Her hot breath blew across my skin, sending a shiver down my spine.

Unfortunately, Beryl’s threat didn’t have the effect on me she was aiming for, and my body was instantly hard.

“Promise?” My single word came out as a husky growl.

Without hesitation, her fangs pierced my skin. I groaned, locking my arm around her waist and pulling her tight against me.

Beryl stiffened with her fangs embedded in my skin. I could feel the erratic pounding of her heart against my chest.

First… time…

The two words drifted into my mind, and my beast surged forward in delight.

I was hearing her voice in my mind.

Because you drank her blood, and now she’s tasted yours. Blood exchange, my beast purred.

This was a common practice among octopus shifters. Pricking a tentacle and pressing it against another octopus shifter’s tentacle gave us the ability to speak telepathically to each other beneath the water. It was temporary, the effects lasting only a few hours.

We were trained in the art of mental links and barriers from birth, giving us the ability to control which thoughts we shared and which we wanted to keep private. But I’d never heard of an octopus shifter being able to communicate telepathically with a land-dweller.

My heart swelled, delighted to have a familiar type of communication to share with my mate.

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