Page 84 of The Blood we Crave

His eyes trace the lines of my exposed body, caressing them without even lifting a hand and my stomach burns with hunger. An involuntary twitch of my thighs is all it takes for a smirk to tilt on his mouth.

Like he’s won something.

“How pathetic.” He hums, “Your pussy aches for my hatred more than it will ever crave another man’s love. Isn’t that sad, darling phantom?”

One of his fingers reaches for my collarbone and it takes all my physical strength to grab it before he contacts my skin. I hold my head up high, even though my spine feels as if it might crack.

“You can’t be the man who touches me and the one who causes me suffering.” I say with impressive steadiness, “You can be one or the other, Thatcher. But you can’t be both.”

The calm confidence he had moments ago falters. He jerks his hand from my grip, sliding it into the pocket of his dark slacks. We stand there, two halves of the same whole with nothing but silence between us.

I would battle heaven and hell for him. The world’s most addictive creature. My angel of death and not so secret obsession. There is nothing I wouldn’t do for the tormented man in front of me.

And while it may shatter my addictive heart that only seeks his love, I refuse to allow him to treat be badly just because he is hurting. His indifference and snark are one thing, but bitter attacks due to his inexperience of feelings will not be at the cost of me.

I won’t do that.

“Thatcher, we said grab her, not keep her locked in here.” A voice from the door says.

I clutch my clothes to my bare chest, just as Thatcher steps directly in front of me, placing both hands on either side of my body to lay flat against the wall. Shielding me from Rook who is talking from the door.

His smell mingles with the steam, strong and thick. Covering me in nothing but him. I look up at him through my lashes, barely listening to his friend as he peers down at me with quiet curiosity.

“You owe me nothing, Lyra.” He says, the look of genuine pleading etched in his face. “But I need you to tell them no. When they ask you for this favor, regardless of how you feel about me, I need you to say no.”

My eyebrows furrow together, “What do—”

“Bug Girl!” Rook shouts, “We need to talk. I’m sure Thatcher wasn’t nice in asking about it, but if it helps, I’ll say please!”

“She’ll be out in a minute, you impatient child.” He says over his shoulder, waiting for the sound of the door to shut closed before moving away from me.

“Say no.” Thatcher says one last time, before disappearing from view and leaving me to put on my clothes.

I take my time with getting dressed, making sure my emotions are completely in check before I go out there and talk to people who have no idea what just accrued in this community shower.

To stand in front of his friends and act as if Thatcher Pierson isn’t the man my heart refuses to quit on. The man all my dreams surrounded, that my body craves, and my mind loathes.

No I can’t show any of that.

So I take my time, until I can school my features into the picture of unknowing and apathy.

I gather my things and push the door open, the cool autumn air chilling my damp hair immediately. My fingers sink into the pockets of my cardigan, the smell of smoke tickling the edge of my nose.

Alistair is leaning against the side of the building, cigarette pinched between his thumb and pointer finger as he passes it off to Rook. The burning cherry pouring gray smoke into the air.

They both look at me as I come outside, while Thatcher would rather look anywhere else but in my direction.

“Who died?” I say with a joking tone, my palms sweating slightly with nerves, because they very well can tell me that another body has shown up.

Except it’s odd for the three of them to seek me out without the other girls present. It means whatever they need is from me and me only.

“No one,” Alistair grunts, his voice low and clipped, “Yet.”

I rock back and forth on my heels, chewing the inside of my cheek. “What do you guys need from me? Did something happen to Briar or Sage?”

“No,” Rook says quickly. “They are fine, and you can tell them about this conversation when we are done, but we wanted to ask you alone so that the decision is yours and only yours. We know how protective our girls can get when it comes to you, Lyra.”

“This is ridiculous—”