Page 33 of These Eternal Bones
“I must insist you refrain from running from me, syringa.”
“Why?”
His eyes darken, those fangs taunting. “I fear I have trouble resisting the urge to chase.”
Oh, but how that makes me want to run all the more.
He sees it in my eyes, his narrowing as he leans in. His deep voice all growly, cool breath dancing against flushed skin. “In time, perhaps I shall hunt you in these woods, little human.”
My heart jolts in my chest, my already rushed breathing growing ragged because…I suspect I would quite enjoy being his prey. His lips run the course of my slender neck, pausing over my rapid pulse there. The prick of something sharp, a well of hot liquid in its place, before the man towering over me tenses. Grace and fluidity reduced to stone. All at once, the tension between us becomes a physical thing, something you could cut with a knife, until I feel it again… his fangs.
My core aches, my entire being readying for…something, preparing itself as if it’s always held out for this moment.
The savage sound that leaves him only adds to that anticipation as his tendrils all but rip me from him, albeit gently. Disappointment swells in my gut as the snow hazing around us renews its efforts. Making up for lost time because seconds ago, I swear the entire world had paused. Irritation snakes into my chest,determination. For what, I’m not sure, as I swipe my finger through the well of my blood, regarding it before holding my finger out to the panting vampire in front of me. “Seems an awful waste.”
I watch his longing rage with the restraint in his eyes. The desperation there matches what’s budding inside me, so I take a step closer before being wrenched back by his tendrils again. My eyes widen as he flicks his wrist, the blood dissipating from the tip of my finger before my eyes.
“Stupid woman.”
My head snaps toward the porch, finding the furious Nephilim there, his eyes emitting an odd glow. It’s an alarming sight, despite his small stature. Where I expect to feel fear, to cower as I once did so easily, I find none, and I do not. “Excuse me?”
Péal rushes from the house after that, knockingintentionallyinto the golden man. Her slight frame nearly a match to his, all except their height. “You mustn’t tease the master in such a way, mistress.”
The Nephilim only seems to anger further. “Are you that desperate for the grave that you–”
“Enough.” Elric’s voice booms behind me, all snarls and malice as Péal all but gathers me from his tendrils, tugging me back toward the house.
“Let’s get you warmed, yes?”
I jerk my arm from hers, glaring at the golden man instead. “What have I done to earn your ire?”
His eyes widen at that, the glow dimming as he seems to calm. “Perhaps you should ask themaster.”
My attention turns to Elric, but he seems to be stuck in the moment from seconds before. His eyes bleeding that same ink from deep within them as he stalks toward me. “Ignore the Nephilim, he will be corrected soon enough. Do not think I will soon forget your offer, syringa. Though it will take more than a mere drop to sate me.” His voice is liquid velvet, and in an instant, my irritation is forgotten as he gathers me in his arms.
It’s as smooth as the falling snow, but his body is tense around mine. His tendrils snapping wildly behind him, claws prodding my flesh where his hands rest.
I huff, casting a longing look at the snow. “Can we stay outside a while longer?”
“You will catch a chill.”
“It’s just so pretty. What if it stops?”
“It will do no such thing.”
“Elric–”
“Allow me to warm you the only way I can.”
I know I’m being difficult, but the idea of losing this moment makes my chest ache. “Please? Just a moment more.”
That stops him just in the doorway, a long sigh leaving his chest. “Selkie, she will have her lunch in the snow today.”
A smile splits my pouting, earning me a rueful look from the man who has me perched on his arm.
“Cartiel, see yourself to my levels tonight.” It's spoken like a warning, the Nephilim’s eyes widening.
Suddenly, the prospect of the golden man,Cartiel,receiving the same treatment as the fox sours my desire for food. Even my longing to play in the snow. My fingers dig into Elric, halting his fluid gait back to the grass. Cartiel’s head snaps up from where he’s scowling dutifully at the ground when I give him my attention. “I had hoped we could be decent to one another, if not friends.” I offer, hoping to quell some of the tension, but he doesn’t seem interested in that at all.
