Page 102 of Undying
Oblivious to what’s happening under the table, Milo and Tobias immediately grab the dishes and begin filling my plate once more, but I wave them off. Milo just nods and leans back in his seat with a little smile. Tobias scowls at my plate like it personally offended him. He purses his lips, as if he wants to argue, clearly not happy at being denied the opportunity to feed me.
I smile, then lean back and pat my belly. “Honestly, I couldn’t eat another bite.”
Stanton leans forward and places his elbows on the table. “You haven’t fed on anything but blood in months. Your stomach has shrunk. Eating more will most likely make you sick.”
That seems to appease Tobias enough that he backs off and grunts in acknowledgment. It’s almost cute that he’s so concerned. Logically, I know I should find their actions overbearing, but I’ve been alone so long that I bask under their attention.
Once the wolves confirm that I’m done, they demolish what’s left of the food, and I can only gape at how quickly everything vanishes. If I hadn’t seen it with my own eyes, I wouldn’t have believed it. Milo and Stanton casually sip their blood like it’s wine. If it weren’t for the smell, I wouldn’t have noticed the difference.
Stanton sets down his empty glass, and a determined look enters his brown eyes. “Before dawn, I want you to feed from one of the wolves.”
I shift in my chair, uncomfortable with talking about blood and feeding. To them, it’s just fuel and a daily function. For me, it’s an intimate gesture.
They are the only ones I didn’t purposely set out to kill when I fed.
I guess when they say that you never forget your first, it’s true.
It doesn’t matter if you’re discussing sex or blood.
The wolves perk up at his command, hunger gleaming in their eyes, and I squirm under their attention. Their reactions only reinforce my belief. As much as my body craves their nearness, my concern overrides everything else.
“Are we sure that’s wise?” I ignore the way the two men stiffen, and I can practically hear their wolves growling in my head. “I don’t want them weakened, not with the gathering happening in a few hours.”
“Not a problem,” Stanton answers before the wolves can explode, casually leaning back in his seat. “As long as you don’t drain them, shifters can replenish their blood almost instantly.”
Some part of me relaxes at knowing I don’t have to find a different blood source. The thought of feeding from anyone else has my stomach churning. But now that the subject of blood has come up, I only have more questions, and I nibble on my bottom lip as I debate whether to ask them now or track down Milo later to avoid any embarrassment.
I don’t want Stanton to get the wrong impression, but I’m worried about the effects consuming so much of my blood will have on him.
He’s not acting normal. The imperious attitude he uses like a weapon to keep others at bay is muted. It’s almost like he’s allowing me a glimpse of the man beneath the monster, and I’m not sure how to react when he’s not acting like an asshole.
“Ask,” Stanton prompts me, never once looking away, the intensity in his gaze almost intimate, and I shift uncomfortably under his attention.
He’s being nice, and I don’t trust it.
If I didn’t know better, I would actually say he’s trying to flirt with me, but I must be wrong. The man hated me just yesterday, not even wanting to be in the same room.
No one can go from one extreme to the next without a reason, and worry is like acid through my veins. The last thing I wanted was to force him to become my mate when I gave him my blood, and I’m sick at the thought that I might have accidentally bound him to me against his will.
I purse my lips, unsure how to broach the delicate subject, then decide that it’s best to blurt out my worst fear fast before I lose courage. “You were susceptible to the sweet blood. I understand she had poison in her system that tainted her blood, but I’m not exactly normal either. What if, by helping you, I made things worse? What if my blood has an adverse effect on you?”
ChapterThirty
JOLIE
The room falls silent at my question. From their reaction, I suspect I stepped over some invisible vampire line and basically questioned his manhood or something. Everyone turns toward Stanton, and I cringe, my heart sinking at the thought of him reverting back to the imperious jackass once more.
Would it be too much to ask for something to go smoothly for once?
Stanton doesn’t move, doesn’t react, his attention focused solely on me like the rest of the room doesn’t exist. Any sane person would duck and run for cover, but I never claimed to be sane. My give a fucks meter broke long ago.
My skin tingles, his gaze almost like a physical touch, and I shift in my chair, weirdly enjoying having his undivided attention. My mind immediately jumps to what it would feel like to have that intensity focused on me in the bedroom, and I can’t stop heat from burning my cheeks.
Not from embarrassment, but pure desire.
Maybe I should be self-conscious about my inappropriate thoughts. For fuck’s sake, I have three mates already. If I’ve learned anything, men are nothing but trouble, especially supernatural men.
I don’t need another.
