Page 5 of Bitten By Bloodmoon
I swallow and quickly glance around the room. It’s large, bright, and beautiful. Not at all what I would expect for a room in a vampire’s house. His room must be dark and windowless incomparison. But I’m not sure why I’m in this room if the sunlight prevents him from getting closer to me.
“That’s why you’re standing in the shadows, you can’t step into the light. Why put me in the brightest room in your house then?”
His attention drifts to the window, distant and unreachable, as he stares out, deliberately silent when it comes to answering my question.
“How? How are you a vampire?”
“How is Ambrose a witch?”
My mouth falls, remembering Nyx’s earlier confession. He’s part vampire; Ambrose is part witch.How could any of it be possible? How could I have not realized what Ambrose is?
“How?” I ask again.
He shrugs.
Blood boils in my veins. “Are you going to answer any of my questions?”
“Are you going to answer any of mine?”
“No.”
His shoulders lift again as if to say,Same.
I exhale in a sharp rush. Leaning back against the thick, black headboard, I feel something scratch against my neck. There’s a small bandage there, covering my wound. I brush my hand over the bandage for just a second before I feel Nyx watching me and stop.
“You drank my blood. You could force me to talk to you. Alpha commands aren’t always strong enough to get people to talk, but vampire mind control…you could force me to talk to you—spill every secret I have.”
“I could, but what fun would that be?”
I frown as I look at him. “You’re toying with me. I don’t like it.”
“Sorry, love, but you’ll have to get used to it.”
“I’m not your love. I’m Ambrose’s mate.”
“Are you?”
“Yes,” I hiss.
His lips curl into a mischievous grin.“If you say so,”he whispers into my mind.
“Fuck!”
“Do you always curse so much?”
“Get out of my head!”
The silence returns, and he’s standing there, leaning against the wall with his arms casually crossed in front of his chest. Gods, I forgot how good-looking the man is. But everything about him is a warning.
There’s danger in his stance; it coils in the way he moves his muscles and in the silent precision of his movements. Darkness fills his eyes and clings to every part of his body in a lethal beauty. There’s a raw magnetism to his deliberate grin that draws me in. The kind of beauty that’s irresistible and perilous. He’s a god in devil’s clothing. It doesn’t matter how devastatingly beautiful he is; he’s not my mate.
“How?”
He cocks an eyebrow. “How?”
“How did you speak to me in my head? Is that a trick all vampires can do?”
“No, vampires can’t speak to others in their head. At most, I can get a single word, phrase, or quick feeling out, but it’s nothing like this. I’m not in their heads, able to see and feel everything they’re feeling. Or talk to them as freely as I can with you. It’s a strange sensation being in your head, speaking to you, and hearing you in return.”
