Page 157 of Cruelly Bitten
Cam had never referred to me as royalty or a queen before. At least, not before today. It was… an interesting change.
You’re not a swan anymore, darling. You’re a lioness. A queen.
His words from moments ago rolled over me, my spine straightening in response. Cam saw me as strong, not fragile and delicate. He saw me as a potential equal. Worthy of being a vampire.
Worthy of reigning alongside him.
Whatever that actually meant.
A partner he could make decisionswithrather thanfor.
All that information lingered in his head, the words mine to absorb and respond to in whatever way I desired.
But I still had no idea what to say, how to react, how tocomprehendeverything that had happened.
So I chose not to try. Not yet.
I have time to figure this out. Just take it one step at a time,I repeated to myself.
Cam held out his hand, but not in an offering to take mine. Instead, he was gesturing toward the door. No words accompanied his motion, just a knowing glance.
He was waiting for me to follow my own advice—to take a step.
Straightening my spine once more, I did just that, and led us to the door. Once in the hallway, I looked to him to lead, our surroundings foreign to me.
Rather than step in front of me, Cam pressed his palm to my lower back and guided me to the elevator bay. His mind provided me with the details of the building as we went, the codes and exits ones he’d already memorized and was now passing on to me for safekeeping.
Keys moved along behind us, his presence feeling oddly protective, like he’d instinctually taken on a bodyguard type of role. Which was odd since he was human and far more vulnerable than me or Cam. But perhaps that was what came naturally to him as a Vigil.
He took up a position in front of the elevator after we stepped in, his back to us as he faced the doors.
Cam kept his palm against my lower spine, his touch gentle but not exactly tentative. His fingertips resembled a possessive brand through my sweater, his protective instincts a loud growl in his mind.
Yet it was again different from the Cam I knew. Because these protective instincts weren’t a result of him seeing me as breakable or easily hurt. Instead, his actions felt more feral in nature, like he was ready to kill anyone and everyone in our path for simply breathing the wrong way.
He saw me as his.
And he wasn’t going to tolerate anyone trying to interfere with that claim.
Nor would he tolerate anyone’s attempt to harm us.
In his mind, we’d already been through hell. He refused to let us go back there.
Only forward.
Together.
As a team.
It was such a startling contrast to the Cam who’d only wanted to fuck me mere days ago.
However, as I observed those memories from his point of view, I discovered that it had been more than pleasure to him.
It’d been a rekindling of his spirit. A connection he hadn’t realized he’d been missing.
He leaned in to press a kiss to my throat, his touch both soothing and terrifying. Because I knew what that mouth of his could do, the bliss it could evoke. The pain, too.
Yet I found myself craving him. His tongue. His comfort. Hisbite.
