Page 42 of Such a Feral Little Lamb
It’s healed.
He healed it.
“How…?”
Mason’s eyes flick to mine in the mirror, then away again. He presses his face against my throat. My heart picks up at what appears to be an uncharacteristic bout of shyness.
I reach back, gripping Mason’s shirt with a trembling hand. My other hand explores my now-healed cheek. My mind spins. This shouldn’t be possible. How did he—
“I could kill him for you,” Mason offers. The words come out muffled, his lips pressed against my skin. I shiver at the soft tickle of each movement.
“Who? Blake?”
“Dane, too.”
I tear my gaze from the mirror and turn. When I catch Mason’s chin and tip his head back, he doesn’t fight me. I know he could. I know he’s allowing me to do this.
“No,” I say, but I can’t fight my smile. “No, I can handle it.”
“I never said you couldn’t.” Mason’s eyes sharpen. “Maybe I want to.”
“No.”
He huffs. “Fine,” he says, and I like this petulant side of him far more than I should. He’s reachable like this, even if I’m more confused by him than I’ve ever been.
“I saw you that first day we came here, didn’t I?”
“Youchasedme.” Mason sways forward, chest bumping against my side. “No one tries to hunt me.”
“Why were you there?”
“I wanted to get the measure of you all. Nia had us come to the church, but I came to have a look.”
“You knew about the hunters?”
“Yes,” Mason says. He slides a hand over my stomach. The touch might be dulled by my T-shirt, but it doesn’t matter. Mybreath catches all the same, muscles leaping beneath his palm. “We know about the hunters. But I wanted to see.”
His fingers dig in and I should push him away, should hate the bite of pain, but it makes my knees weak. “What did you see?”
“You.”
I hesitate before my next question and Mason watches, with growing hunger, as I swallow and lick my lips. “And when the zombies attacked us? You were there that night. IknowI saw you.”
“You did.”
“Why were you there?”
Mason leans up so our mouths are almost touching. His hand slides from my stomach to my hip, and I loosen my grip on his shirt but don’t let go.
“I wanted to see what you would do.”
“The team—”
“No.” This close, all I can see are his eyes and the fire that burns within them. I want to burn, too. “You, little lamb. I wanted to see whatyouwould do.”
The moment draws taut. Mason holds perfectly still, even as a tremble works its way down my spine.
I move first. Our mouths crash together clumsily, too hard, but I lick the copper sting of blood from his lips and Mason opens for me instantly, a groan rumbling through his chest and escaping into my mouth.
