Page 34 of Cruelly Bitten
So again I wondered why I’d been brought here. If anyone could fix this, it was the one tied to Cam’s mind.
Assuming I could convince him to break down the mental barrier, anyway. That wouldn’t be easy, given that this version of Cam considered me to be inferior.
“If I don’t tell you something, it’s because you’re not worthy of knowing it.”
That statement had struck a chord with me. A dangerous one. One I’d tried to ignore for over a century.
A chord filled with resentment toward the man I loved.
Because that manhadleft me in the dark by not telling me his plans for Lilith or how he’d intended to return to me. Andthat had made me feel inferior to him. Like he hadn’t been able to trust me with the information or valued me enough to share it.
I had fought those feelings since the day he’d erected the wall between our minds.
And he’d brought all of that to the surface with a few insensitive words.
I had to get a handle on my irritation before I said something I shouldn’t. As it was, I’d already spoken my mind a few times in his presence. Particularly about how he’d left without telling me his intentions, but Cam hadn’t reacted to my bluntness. He’d just dismissed it with his statement about my lack of worth.
I watched him now as he settled across from me at the small table in his kitchen area.
He’d left to take a shower while I’d decorated the table for dinner. He was back in another black shirt and matching pants, his hair damp at the ends.
His blue eyes surveyed the food I’d separated onto plates before settling on the wine glass. “Did you sweeten it?” he asked, his deepening accent sending a shiver down my spine.
“Not yet.” I swallowed, uncertain of this next part because I didn’t trust him not to hurt me. But I wanted to follow our usual ritual as well as I could. Because maybe, just maybe, it would inspire one of thoseinconsequential memoriesto arise. “You usually prefer to bite my wrist and sweeten it yourself.”
His focus went to my neck and then my hand before returning to his glass. “I think I’ll taste the wine first, see if I agree with your assessment regarding my preferences.”
“I didn’t say you dislike the French brand,” I reminded him. “Just that you prefer the Italian one when in Italy.”
However, I also knew that this Italian wine was one of his all-time favorites.
I hadn’t been surprised that thestaff—or whoever that dark-haired human who’d delivered tonight’s meal was—had been able to locate a bottle of this wine.
Vampires and lycans appreciated the pleasantries in life, which was why they’d relegated so many of the service industry workers—who were literally mortal slaves that had been assigned the service designation on Blood Day—to farms and vineyards to maintain the quality of food they’d enjoyed from previous eras.
Lilith had thought of everything when she’d created this new world order. She’d found a way to psychologically pit humans against each other by forcing them to fight for immortality, and she’d been able to satisfy her fellow vampires and lycans with certain camps that fit their specific needs.
Harems for vampires.
Moon chase victims for lycans.
Blood virgins for vampires.
Breeding farms for lycans.
It was disgusting. Cruel. Completely fucked up.
And my Cam seems to agree with all of it now,I thought, watching as he elegantly tasted the wine.Worse, those videos I’d played appeared to refer to him as the Liege, which meant he might even think he orchestrated all this madness.
“Hmm,” he hummed, drawing my attention to his full lips. “This is exquisite wine, Ismerelda.”
I said nothing, my brain waiting for thebutthat seemed to be lingering on his tongue.This is his favorite Italian wine,I told myself.If he says otherwise, he’s?—
“But…”And there it is…“You’re right. It does need to be sweetened.”
My heart practically leapt into my throat. I was equal parts relieved that he hadn’t denied the flavor and terrified that he was about to bite me again.
Because the last time he’d sunk his fangs into my flesh, he’d killed me.
