Page 40 of A Hunt Bound in Blood
I imagined shoving Glory into the ditch along the lane, but even as the visual played through my head, I experienced the urge to pull her closer. Son of a bitch.
“I did try not to bite you.” Her voice was so small, I almost didn’t hear her. “No one should be bound to someone without their permission, and I’m sorry. I promise I won’t act on it or make you do anything you don’t want to do.”
Right. I was no longer the only reader of emotions on this trip. She had to be sensing my discomfort—my resentment. I wasn’t about to apologize for my anger, but I needed her to know it wasn’t directed at her.
“I won’t say I’m overjoyed at being unexpectedly tied to another person, however temporarily. I’ve worked hard to avoid any kind of commitments in my life. But if the situation isn’t ideal, I don’t blame you for it.”
She blinked up at me, her eyes large, and I shoved my hands deeper in my pockets, ordering myself to remain hands off.
What I didn’t tell her was that beneath my anger was the satisfaction of having uncovered the truth. And relief. Part of me had wondered if discovering Glory’s secret would ruin what made her interesting, but instead I was even more intrigued. She had kept this secret from everyone her entire life. From what she’d implied, it was possible not even Evaniel knew. If I were the blackmailing type, I’d carry her future in my hands… but I wasn’t. I was the collecting type. Treasures, knowledge, secrets. I loved knowing what other people didn’t.
“I meant what I said earlier, Buttons—if your secret had to be shared with anyone, it couldn’t have found a safer home than with me.”
Glory
XIX
I couldn’t get my heartbeat under control. The taste of Cammon’s blood lingered on my tongue, teasing me with its richness. My body craved more of him, and not only what ran through his veins. The kiss we’d shared after I’d bitten him had woken something in me that begged to be explored.
The mere thought of begging him for anything made my skin flush hotter, and I fingered the divot at the bottom of my throat in an effort to distract myself.
Along with my physical desire was an emotional tug I hadn’t quite figured out yet. The way he’d promised to keep my secret—his adamant vow that it was safe with him—made me want to believe him, a dangerous temptation. For twenty-five years, I’d clung to the idea that if anyone discovered the truth about me, I would be killed either on sight or shortly after. To have revealed myself to Cammon only for him to not react with horror or threats… it was anticlimactic in the best possible way. Yet despite his seeming acceptance of what I was, all he had to do was open his mouth one time. One slip, and the king’s executioner would come for my neck. The risk to my life had grown with my choice to save myself, and time would tell if I should have opened my arms to a quicker ending.
My foot caught in a dip in the road—the exact type of pitfall we’d aimed to avoid by setting up camp for the night—and Cammon caught me before I could fall. His firm grip stayed around my waist until he was sure I was steady, and I grew lightheaded when his fingers slipped up my side, just skirting my breast before he pulled away.
Our eyes met in the slowly dawning light, and the red I expected to see was gone, washed out by that inky blackness. It seemed I wasn’t the only one affected by our proximity.
How easy it would be to rise on tiptoe and press my lips to his. How simple to pull him towards me and lead us to the grass on the side of the road. At this time of morning there would be no one here to see us. Not that there had been anything more than the occasional merchant cart or king’s guard patrol on these roads at any time of day. We could lose ourselves in each other and finally indulge in the primal curiosity that had been growing in me since I’d first seen those wings burst out from along his spine.
But my rational self held me back. He’d saved me from the shifter attack, but we were on a mission that would keep me safe in far greater ways. We didn’t have time to pause our journey for some irresponsible, hormone-driven corporeal adventuring.
Maybe when we got home…
No, I couldn’t afford to consider those kinds of thoughts. I’d promised Cammon I wouldn’t take advantage of the bond between us, and sleeping with him would cross that line.
At the reminder that whatever desire he felt for me might not actually be real, the heat washed out of me, leaving an empty chill in its wake. I stepped away from him and continued down the road. I thought I heard him growl but didn’t glance back to confirm it. If I looked, I’d be lost to whatever I found staring at me.
What I needed right now was to test the waters and make sure he was okay to travel with me for the next few weeks given the change in our dynamic. We had more than half a journey to complete, and I would hate it if we spent the entire time awkwardly avoiding each other. Especially if underneath the bond, regardless of what he claimed, he resented or distrusted me because of what I’d done. What I was.
Either possibility created a stone in my gut, and in a feeble attempt to start a conversation, I said, “At least the weather’s been good. It would have been awful to fight those shifters in the rain. All that mud.”
I shuddered at the idea of tackling the drake while slipping around in the muck. There was no way I would have escaped.
“Does no one else know? Truly?” he asked, ignoring my statement and reverting to the admittedly more relevant topic.
I debated not answering, not wanting to give him more ammunition to use against me and my small circle later. But the demon had saved my life, putting his own at risk in the process. The least I could do was give him a few nameless answers. “Other than my parents, you’re the second person to find out.”
“Oh?” At the rough edge of his voice, the hint of steel-lined jealousy, my heart gave an inappropriate flutter.
“My best friend knows. She’s the only person I trusted enough to tell straight-out, and that was when I was twelve and probably should have known better.”
“How did she handle it?”
I shrugged. “She’s always been the levelheaded type. She’s an earth mage, so I guess it makes sense. They tend to be pretty grounded.”
I snuck a glance at Cammon to see if he’d caught the pun, and by the roll of his eyes, he had. “Tersey was an earth mage too,” he reminded me. “And so far, nothing about him has been grounded.”
“Yes, well, he was also hundreds of years old. I think we can make allowances for some eccentricities.”