Page 16 of Savage Thirst
I'm not sure now whether I want to sink my fangs into her throat or throw her down and find out what kind of sounds she makes when she's not lying.
Maybe both.
In turn.
Or at the same time.
I let go of her wrists. My hand slides around her waist, dragging her against me. The other tightens at her throat.
"Feral little thing," I murmur against her ear. "Showing your true colors now. Brave, but not bright, trying this stunt without your forest friends around."
She stiffens, but I can feel the pulse pounding under my hand. Fear, yes, but something else, too.
I admire her defiance. That raw, wild edge. I want to strip it back layer by layer, learn who—what—she really is.
Once I have my answers, I'll decide if she burns or stays.
"I saved your life," she chokes out, voice tight.
"And endangered it.Twice," I growl back.
My fingers splay across her stomach, pressing into warm skin. Holding her there. Not just to restrain. Not anymore.
She smells like wildflowers. Sun-warmed meadows. Sweet, earthy dew. It's crawling under my skin, blooming inside my chest. Tempting me. But I don't bite.
Not because of any monk-like self-control my brother preaches about from his damn mountaintop of moralsuperiority. I don't bite becauseIchoose when to hunt and who's my prey.
"Kayden," Asher snaps. His hand clamps around my arm, hard. "Enough."
His tone has changed. He senses it now. The shift. This isn't just about violence anymore.
"It's not the way," he says. "We need answers. Not whatever this is."
My grip loosens, but not for him. This is exactly the way. Good vampire, bad vampire routine. Let's see which one she breaks for.
I spin her around in one motion and grab her wrist. Drag her with me.
She resists, but I'm stronger, faster, and done playing. I toss her down onto the couch—rough, but not enough to hurt. She lands soft, but I stay standing, looming over her like the question she can't escape.
Asher steps closer, his posture shifting, shoulders squared, voice crisp and commanding. The Colonel in him rising to the task.
"Do we need to restrain you?" he asks, tone flat, no bullshit.
She swallows hard. Looks away for a beat. Then meets his gaze again.
"I won't try to kill your brother," she says. "Again."
I smirk. Can't help it.
"Oh, that's comforting," I drawl. "A half-naked mystery girl promising not to stab me a second time. You fill me with trust, sunshine. Shame that 'shove-a-branch-through-my-heart' moment tends to stick in the memory. Even if the attempt was… spirited."
We both tower over her where she sits on the couch. The contrast is sharp. Intentional.
Asher is here to control the situation. I'm here to enjoy it.
She shifts slightly, pulling her legs up onto the cushion, sitting sideways like she's trying to look smaller and harmless. It's a signal—see, I'm not about to pounce.
Still, I wouldn't mind if she did. I'd like to see her try.
