Page 40

WINNOW

A ccording to Gideon, the nearest town with shopping is a place called Sevierville, nestled in a remarkably beautiful valley in the Smoky Mountains.

He mentioned it as though I should already know what he was talking about.

I haven’t the foggiest, obviously, but I nod along even though I have no idea.

Yet, another guilty reminder that he is still wholly unaware of who or what I am.

How does one confess their immortal nature to a human who doesn’t believe in magic?

What’s more is that, according to what I’ve read, simply being in my presence and strengthening our bond will give him a lifespan parallel to mine and endow him with his own magical gifts.

Though it might take some time. Are these things he’ll desire?

Instinctively, I would assume yes, but perhaps that’s because of the fact that I was born with these attributes, and I can’t fathom living without them. Perhaps, he is the reverse?

Dread tickles the back of my mind, reminding me of my internal countdown until I will either have to convince him to let me drink his blood, perish entirely, or go into bloodlust.

These anxious ponderings remain in the forefront of my mind until we arrive, and Gideon parks his truck in a stone lot in the center of a small town that appears to be fond of brick. Gideon’s bright hazel eyes catch mine as he opens his door. “Wait for me.”

My heart flutters as I watch him round the front of the truck to open my door and extend his hand in a chivalrous fashion. I can’t help but grin and relish the current of electricity that shoots up my arm as I lay my hand in his, and he helps me climb out.

Dressed in Gideon’s enormous sweatpants, t-shirt, and a too-big, squishy pair of thonged sandals that he calls flip-flops , I feel a little self-conscious.

The last time I was seen in public dressed in anything other than a gown fit for a Duchess Paramount was when I’d been captured and forced to wear the uniform prison garb of the last person who’d died that was approximately my size.

Gideon, however, gives me the impression that dressing in little more than pajamas isn’t anything out of the ordinary, and when we step out onto the sidewalk, the peppering of people hardly seem to notice.

In fact, I’m not the only one dressed in pajamas.

There are multiple people dressed similarly to me.

At my expression, Gideon gives me a curious look, taking my hand in his to lead me into a small house that appears to have been converted into a clothing store. A sign hangs over the front door that reads, Daphne’s Boutique. Patrons and employees briefly glance over at us.

All of them, women.

All of them stare a little too long at Gideon.

The realization causes an unfamiliar sensation to burrow in my chest and gut, and heat my blood. It takes me a moment to place it because never in my life have I felt possessive over a male.

A female, on one or two occasions, but never to the extent of this.

This sensation is wretched and violent as I watch the nearest female—a pretty blonde with a heaving bosom—stare openly at him, smiling as if waiting for him to look up and gaze upon her wares—as in her breasts.

Gideon, however, is seemingly oblivious, perusing a circular rack of skirts as he stands very clearly at my side.

Bold.

Too fucking bold.

Before I can stop myself, an uncharacteristically harsh tone escapes me.“May I help you with something?”

Oh my gods… I’m being unpleasant.

The woman’s gaze snaps to mine, along with the couple of other women in Daphne’s Boutique. And though the female’s brows pinch and her cheeks flame, I think I’m more shocked at myself than she is.

With a muttered, “No, sorry,” she hurries out of the store, the too-sweet stench of artificial fruit and flowers stinging my nostrils as she passes.

The hot-faced shame of having drawn the entire boutique’s attention to our minor confrontation heats my face.

Drawing in a slow, calming breath, I will my heart rate to settle before turning back around to face Gideon with as much dignity as I can muster.

I don’t think I’ve ever been so abrasive to anyone in my entire life.

Without even facing him, I can feel Gideon’s stare drilling a hole in the back of my head, and I’m fully expecting him to admonish me.

Yet, when I finally turn to see his expression, the look on his face is one of adoration and desire. His gaze is nothing short of scorching. So much so that it makes me blush beneath the heat of it.

“What was that about?”

Akash, strike me down now, please, I beg of you. Have mercy on my mortified soul.

I gape at him, much like a fish out of water, trying to muster words. Gideon takes my wrist in his hand, caressing his thumb over my racing pulse. It both soothes and arouses me.

“She was wantonly staring at you.”

Gideon’s brows leap as a corner of his wretchedly perfect lips curls.

“And that bothers you?”

I fidget, gaze falling to the now remarkably fascinating hem of my borrowed shirt. “Well… I mean, just because you’re offensively handsome doesn’t mean it’s okay for someone to gawk at you like some brothel stud.”

Gideon’s mouth splits in a dazzling grin as his head tips back with laughter. “Now that’s a statement that raises a few questions—like the term brothel stud— but most importantly, sweetheart… I’d like to know why exactly that would bother you.”

My throat closes, and I’m pretty sure my cheeks are fucking fushcia at this point. Gideon gives my wrist a gentle squeeze as he tugs me closer to him. “Tell me, baby girl.”

This man is literally torturing me, and the teasing grin on his smug face tells me he’s enjoying it.

That alone has my annoyance flaring enough to push some of my embarrassment away.

Heaving a sigh, I straighten, snatching my wrist back.

“If you must know, Gideon Kincaid, it’s because until now , I thought you were the most perfect man I’d ever met, and I’m loath to imagine anyone other than me laying eyes on you.

Clearly, I was mistaken since you’re a sadist and seem to enjoy watching me squirm beneath this insufferable line of questioning. ”

Clearing my throat, I turn on my heel to disappear down an aisle positioned between two tall racks of dresses and begin sifting through them while I resume my prayers for a swift death from Akash.

Gideon rounds the corner and swiftly removes the distance between us as his hands close around the sides of my waist, and he bends, lowering his mouth to my ear.

I hold my breath as a heart-pounding moment passes between us, and I wait for him to say something—anything.

Instead, the flat of his tongue licks up the column of my neck before his lips close over my pulse point, and he sucks firmly on the sensitive flesh.

I am fucking panting.

Gideon’s hands move in opposite directions: one to cup my breast as the other slides beneath the waistband of my sweatpants to firmly cup my pussy over his boxers.

“Is that really how you feel, angel?”

Somehow, I manage a fragment of dignity and turn my nose up.

“… Maybe.”

I feel Gideon’s mouth spread wide in a grin against my throat just before he sinks his teeth into my neck—just on the pleasurable side of pain—as the possessive hand in my pants slips inside the boxers I’m wearing.

Blessedly, we’re hidden by the racks of clothing, but if someone were to pass, we’d be compromised.

Not that I could give a singular, sideways fuck with the most beautiful man I’ve ever seen, my soulbound , grasping me at my most erogenous places as the thick length of his cock presses against my ass and lower back.

Akash, I take it back. I want to live to see another day, so long as this man is beside me.