Page 13

Chapter 12

Rolf

B ecause you have no idea what stands in front of you, he almost said, but instead, he whispered against her lips, “Even knowing what you are.”

The silence yawned between them as he waited nervously for her reply. Was it seconds? Minutes? He studied her face carefully, noting the tiny speckling of freckles across her nose. They had faded to a light brown, but he imagined what she would have looked like back when she was human, her skin sun-kissed and ruddy from being outside. Her eyes, an intense glacial blue, had tiny flecks of gray swirling around the pupils, which dilated each time she turned her gaze on him.

He wanted to devour her. Every part of her. And never let her go. But she said nothing, just stared up at him, her brows knit together in confusion. Whatever demons she was battling, he wanted to slay them for her.

When he could not stand the silence any longer, his grip loosened on her back.

“But you paralyzed me,” she whispered. And then she said louder, “And you’ve been lying to me.”

Rolf bristled at the irony. This whole time, she had been in his cabin under a ruse, and she dared to think she was the one who deserved answers. So maybe he had incapacitated her, but damn if it wasn’t out of his need to be cautious. An immortal bloodsucker in his home? No, he did what he had to and would not feel guilty.

“I’m not the only liar here,” he said, his voice carrying a warning.

Adeline’s eyes hardened, and she took a step backward. His arms instinctively wrapped around her, his fingers pressing against her lower back. Her lips curled into a sneer.

She wasn’t going to sidestep this again, not if he could help it.

“So, you’re hunting,” he said.

She tried to step away, but he tightened his arms around her, secretly loving how her curves felt against him. One of his hands trailed up her back, and he cupped her jaw again. He placed his fingers against the pulse at her neck, holding her delicately so he could feel her heartbeat.

Her eyes were clear and bright blue like the noonday sky. “And you are not human.”

Fuck .

For a split second, her pulse raced underneath his grip, and he gave her a sly smile. “Well?—”

She cut him off by raising her arms and wrapping them around his neck. “Where is that coat from? Whose dried blood is it?”

With each question she threw at him, blurred-out images flashed in his head, but then they were gone.

He stuttered, “I…I do not know.”

His grip around her loosened, and suddenly he was once again that frightened young man from decades ago when he woke up with no memory, in a strange red coat, covered in blood that wasn’t his…

“You speak the truth,” she whispered, her eyes scanning his face for any sign of trickery.

“Yes.”

“Why?”

He shrugged, figuring it was better to say nothing.

That question held so much weight and had no simple answer. Neither of them spoke; they just stared. In moments like this, he wished someone could reach into his head and read his mind. It would make everything so much easier when words typically failed him.

The fireplace crackled, and his eyes jumped to the window. An orange glow pushed through the snowy haze, casting a soft yellow light over everything outside.

The golden hour nears, he thought as his skin crawled with anticipation. It was always this way, the final morning before the full moon took its place in the night sky. But her eyes were on him, on his neck, on his lips, constantly scanning his face.

“You lied to me about your coven, too.”

It would be the only reason she kept staring at his veins with such intensity. She would need fresh blood, untainted, if she were going to leave, but he hadn’t offered any of his. Though she tried to hide her worry now and again, he could see the panic behind her eyes.

She nodded once. “They near.”

Fuck. So long as she could make it out of here before her coven arrived, everything could still be as before she showed up.

“When?” he growled.

The past few decades had been predictable. Easy. Just as he liked it. There were no blank spaces in his memory, there was no blinding terror when he woke up in strange places. But he had been so lonely on his own, in his cabin deep in the woods. And he had been so careful, living his life by as strict of a moral code as he could.

“The full moon,” she said.

Fuck.

The look in her eyes told him she knew how close it was. She needed to leave, and soon, or it would be too late. A part of him hated knowing she was leaving because he liked being stuck inside with this beautiful, complicated, combative creature. She made his basest desires hungrier. Made him even more feral.

“You will leave tonight,” he stated, his tongue feeling like sand. It was useless fighting his attraction to her. The very thought of her leaving his cabin, of never seeing her again, had his heart in his throat; at the same time, his mind kept telling him how unlikely this pairing would ever be. He took a deep breath and strengthened his resolve. “You can take a pair of my ski shoes, but you will leave tonight.”

Her lips formed a tight line, and her face had gone ashen. How could she be a killer when he could read her so easily? She was afraid of something—the panicked look she kept trying to push away, as well as her increased heart rate, told him as much. She nodded in acquiescence. “I will, but…”

“But?” He stepped closer to her, tentatively raising a hand to cup her cheek. She hesitated at first, but then leaned in, her skin only slightly cool against his rough palm. It felt like his hand was alight with a thousand fires that traveled up his arm, settled in his chest, and flared to life.

A thousand fires that burned for her.

“You need sustenance,” he said, knowing deep down that meant she had to feed from him . He dropped his hand from her face as his mind whirled with all of the things that could go wrong once she let him bite her. “And we don’t have much time.”

“But—” she started to say, her fangs already sharpening to fine points.

He cut her off with a kiss, his tongue diving deep into her mouth, playing with her sharp teeth. She moaned and pressed herself against him, weaving her hands through his hair. A trilling of danger swirled in his chest. It squeezed the air from his lungs and lined his forehead with a sheen of sweat. After he’d tracked down and hunted the Vampire from his forest for decades, now he was giving in?

No, this is so she can go and leave me in peace.

As it was, he knew it would take a miracle if he could pull this off—he was too enmeshed with his desire for her.

Finally, he pulled away. He eyed her fangs and asked, “Can you stop yourself?”

Adeline nodded her head. “Yes, I have perfect control over my needs.”

“Then, do it,” he rasped and swallowed a few times.

“Are you sure?” Her eyes flicked to his throat, back up to his lips, and finally, to his eyes.

He closed them for a second and nodded, almost resigned to the fact that she would know everything as soon as she took some of his blood. He knew there was no hiding from a vampire once they tasted your blood. Still, he had nothing else to feed her. Where would he find rabbits or squirrels under several feet of snow? And if her coven was coming, and she didn’t leave in time, he was a dead man anyway. There was no way he could fend off more than one at a time right now.

Besides, if he was going to do this, willingly let a vampire take some of his blood, he might as well indulge this ridiculous desire to tear the clothes from her body. As if reading his mind, Adeline slid her hands up the front of his chest. His body hummed in response.

Her fingers curled into his pecs, and she licked up the side of his throat. He suppressed a growl.

Her lips fluttered against the vein that pulsed in his neck. She said, “Then let’s have some fun.”

It was the only confirmation he needed. He sighed as he tugged her against him. The delicate floral warmth of amber escaped from her hair and wrapped around him, warping reality and removing the last of his good sense. She threaded her arms around his neck, and he slid his hands down her back to cup her rear. He marveled at how they rested comfortably underneath her as he walked them over to the bed.

The deepest recesses of his mind knew he should not bed her, knew he should not imbibe. She was nothing like the fantasy he had concocted in his head. Even while he held her hand and watched her fight the dreams that haunted her sleep, he knew that she was much more dangerous than she let on.

But only a fool would pass on a moment like this.

And Rolf was not a fool.

He was simply toeing the line at losing complete control.