Page 28 of When Bones Whisper
She stepped closer, knowing that winning the argument could mean her death, but his arrogance made her want to scream. Heat flooded her face. She hated that he could see the blush creeping into her cheeks. “I doubt it. Do you know what, I think that while they may be cruel, you are another beast entirely. You hunt the innocent and toy with whomever you please, without a second thought. You wiped out my entire bloodline for your own selfish desire.”
He strangled a laugh, one that was void of any amusement she’d heard from when he rescued her. “Do you know what I think of you, witch?”
“Enlighten me.”
“I think you are nothing but an ingenuous woman with little substance.”
Her lashes flickered, but she refused to look away from him. His lips tipped into a faint, enigmatic smile, as if he enjoyed watching the panic building in her eyes.
“At least I am not a monster.”
His nostrils flared as he backed her into a corner of the room, his pupils forming into vertical slits. Veins began spreading out from his eyes, as if he was seconds away from shifting into the animalistic version of himself that would tear her limb from limb. “I may be a monster, but at least I aminteresting.”
A strange warmth pooled into the tips of her fingers, and when she looked down she was surprised to see her fingertips had darkened. “Really? Because I seenothingof interest.”
His gaze flicked down to her hands, his tongue dragging over his lips as he leaned closer, pushing her into the wall. “Are you certain about that? Your heart is racing and I can smelleverything.” Her thighs clenched when he pressed himself against her harder. “Perhaps you are not as immune as you may think.”
“Maybe you are right about me,” she countered. “But at least I am not a coward. I know why you didn’t return after you drank from me.”
The slight flare of his nostrils was the only indicator that her words had any effect on him. “Why is that?”
“You were afraid.”
He scoffed. “Of you?”
“Of my mind. You forget that while you were in my head, seeing my memories, I could feel glimmers of your emotions, too. Oh, how terrifying it must have been for you, a thing that hides in darkness, to suddenly find yourself standing in the light where hope lives.”
His eyes darkened, fingers flexing at his side when he looked at her throat. With a tense exhale, he pushed himself back and said with a growl, “You should go. Now.”
“Why? Are you feelingviolated?” she asked, ignoring the voice in her head reminding her he could easily destroy her.
He ran his tongue over his sharp, gleaming fangs. She really was going to get herself killed. Power moved through her veins, pulsating through every pore of her body as she prepared to fight.
After a few seconds, he regained his composure, and her brows shot up her forehead. The veins around his eyes were gone, and his pupils were back to their circular, normal shape.
“Your magic is strong,” he said in a strangely contained voice. “I can feel it pulsing through you.”
She glanced at her fingers, which tingled with a thousand needle pricks, as if something was moving inside them. That had never happened before.
“It will come in useful when the witches come for you,” he continued. “I’ve known many, and felt their power, but not like yours. You are strong, especially when you’re angry.”
“You want me to fight them, too?”
“Yes, I do,” he said, tilting his head, the curve of his smile and deepening of his dimples making her heart stammer. “I am glad to see you have an instinct for self-preservation. All it took was a little push to get that magic to the surface. Alexander assumed kindness would pull it out of you, but I wagered it was rage. I can feel it in your soul, desperate to be unleashed.”
“I’m not an angry person,” she said and he chuckled darkly.
“Your power begs to differ.”
“So, that was all intentional? No, no one can feign that amount of anger.”
He pushed his index finger under her chin and closed her gaping mouth. “Don’t look so shocked. I need you angry and ready to fight.”
Her face flooded with heat. Never had she met anyone more infuriating. “No. Y—you were losing control!”
“I never lose control,” he stated nonchalantly, and she was ready to throw something, anything at his head, just to see if that was true.
He continued rambling, as if he didn’t notice the battle of confusion playing on her features. “While you may disdain mortality,” he said, pacing in front of her, “I do not. I want the life back that was stolen from me, but I cannot get it while the Avery family are alive. They manipulated me into killing so many in your bloodline. I will not fall into their trap again. They will never stop their attacks on me, even with you dead.”
