Page 103 of Cold-Blooded Creatures
Zion opened his mouth to protest, but Gedeon shut him down. I tuned out their discussion on the changes in training schedules and who would temporarily take on Zion’s role as the close combat teacher while he recovered.
A short-haired blonde dressed in a peach-colored dress walking past the window had snatched my attention. Her heart-shaped face and the kindness in her faint smile were too similar to Malaya’s. I hadn’t had a chance to talk to her since waking up halfway on top of Zion in the infirmary two hours ago. Glad he hadn’t awakened before me—that would’ve meant definite trouble—I’d carefully untangled myself and jumped off. A peek into the adjoining room had shown both Malaya and Eislyn still asleep.
“You really care about her.” Gedeon positioned his identical blue-and-white-striped cup’s handle to be parallel to the edge of the pale wood table. “Malaya.”
“She reminds me of someone.” Alora. Her life after the teachers had separated us.
“Who? I’ll bring you whoever you want,” Zion offered.
He would. I knew he would. I hadn’t asked for that nasty guard, and yet he’d delivered him to me as a gift. “You already know who,” I said quietly, my heart shriveling. “Alora, the one I’ve asked you to get out as part of our deal.”
“We will bring her here,” Gedeon assured. “Sadira and Ryder are working out the issue of the chips together with Damia’s team. Her name alone is not enough to locate her. But if she has survived this long, a delay will not make a difference.”
I fiddled with my coffee. “I know,” I murmured. He and Zion had explained that we required access to the city’s systems to search the databases of their schools. So far, they’d been out of our reach. In turn, so was Alora.
“Pretty birdie,” Zion said softly, his arm on my backrest tensing as his fingers brushed my shoulder.
“Why do you keep calling me that?” Annoyed was an understatement as he answered my repeated question with a violent kiss any time I asked. “You haven’t explained yourself. If you won’t tell me, I’ll cut your tongue out in your sleep.”
In truth, my threat was empty. I’d grown to…tolerate his tongue.
He traced a line down my spine to where the chair’s backrest started. “You didn’t tonight, though.”
“That’s because I needed your body warmth to survive the night and didn’t want to hear you wail without your tongue,” I scoffed. So much for waking up before him.
“Whatever works for you. Only having you lying on top of me was so intoxicating I barely held myself from ripping your clothes off. I want to feel your skin on mine and count your pulse from how hard your heart would be beating. I want to share blood with you, to make you mine.” Madness rippled front and center in his blue eyes.
“You. Are. Crazy,” I muttered. Because what else were you supposed to say to that? I preferred my blood to remain inside me, not coat me from the outside.
Only his words had painted a picture so alluring I yearned for it to come to life. To become reality. To lower the temperature in the room because it was getting too hot for some reason, and my sweater was making it worse.
He rested a hand on his chest. “Thank you.”
Gedeon snorted. “Calling him insane is a compliment.”
He’dsnorted. So his mouthwascapable of other sounds besides warnings, orders, and growls.
Zion grinned. “I’ll tell you why I call you pretty birdie if you kiss me.”
Had I said he was unhinged? Because he was. He truly was.
I swallowed another mouthful of coffee. “I’ve kissed you more than enough.”
“No. I have kissed you, but you haven’t kissedme.” His tongue darted out and flicked the tip of my nose. “You can start like this.”
I viciously rubbed at the damp spot. It always made me feel lighter, the sensation so weird it bordered on being disturbing.
My shoulders slumped in surrender as I placed my cup back on the table. I wanted the answer. Ineededit. Not knowing was exhausting. I loathed the unknown. And he’d assaulted my lips with his teeth plenty of times, so truly, how bad could it be?
I glanced at Gedeon, his elbow resting on the backrest, his legs spread wide. Nonchalance, my ass. He was the embodiment of the most satisfied version of themselves a person could possibly be.
He raised his chin up in a nod. “Go ahead.”
“Thank you for your permission.” Sarcasm saturated my words.
Grabbing Zion’s t-shirt, I yanked him closer, my mouth finding his. He froze, and I grinned against him. He clearly hadn’t expected me to go for it. I didn’t crave slow and gentle, and they should’ve realized it by now.
His hand dipped into my hair, holding me in place, as his tongue skimmed the seam of my lips. The moment they parted, he drew back.
