Page 88 of A Whisper in the Dark

Hadn’t Hunter just been thinking the same thing? Even if this had nothing to do with love, and they both had their reasons for wanting this mating, that part was at least true.

Since that very first meeting of eyes, Hunter had already been his.

But…

He found himself lifting his arm, gripping the back of Odin’s neck, even going so far as to dig his nails into the flesh there until he was certain he had the other man’s full, undivided attention.

Odin’s gaze darkened some, but he didn’t even try to pull away. Waiting.

“I’ve always been yours,” he said pointedly, noting the way that stroked the Snow Dominus’s ego. “I’ll come to bed. But I’m not the one here with something to prove. I’ll offer myself to you, spread my legs, invite you in, let you show me that you’re my best choice. I’ll let you mate me. But when I do, you’re the one who’s going to be proving something.”

Hunter dropped his hand from his neck. “Come to bed, Shout,” he held it out between them, “and prove that you’re mine.”

Chapter 4:

Odin had seen what true love was like for the first time when he’d been sixteen, and it’d been an accident.

Meg Thorn had snuck into the Faraway Mansion and stormed through the grounds searching for her brother. She’d found him working his shift, guarding, and had begged him to quit and run away with her. Their father had vanished without a word—dead, though they hadn’t known it at the time—and she feared she’d lose her brother the same way.

Hunter had clutched her close, cradled the back of her head, and spoken softly to her that it was going to be all right. The look in his eye then when he’d stared at his sister had been so filled with love and attention that Odin had felt something shatter within himself seeing it.

No one had ever looked at him like that before.

People, even those related to him, tended to gaze at him with fear or respect, but never adoration. Never love. Real, true, unencumbered and no strings attached love.

He’d wanted it, this thing he hadn’t even been aware he’d been missing. He’d wanted it with a ferocity that had lit him up inside.

And he’d wanted it from Hunter.

Now that he was an adult, standing with the Huntsman in their bedroom, so close to binding the other man to him forever, he searched his expression for any signs of that look he’d seen all those years ago.

But this one, the one Hunter was giving him, was different, and not just because Odin wasn’t his sibling the way Meg had been. Obviously, the love he wanted from him wasn’t of the sibling variety. The problem was, Odin couldn’t see any type of love in Hunter’s eyes at all.

There was appreciation, sure, and lust. The Huntsman wanted him in his bed, wanted him inside his body, even wanted him in other ways, that much was clear. Yet, it was also obvious that the only reason Hunter was agreeing to this mating was because he was being forced into it. He had no other options readily available to him.

Odin knew as much because he was the reason for that. He’d gone out of his way to ensure he’d be the only remaining choice at the end, and while he hadn’t expected Hunter to moon over him and instantly fall head over heels, he still felt a rush of anger twist in the center of his chest at the knowledge that the other man didn’t actually want a lifetime with him.

Hunter merely wanted to avoid the cold that awaited him outside.

He wanted to avoid running into Isa again.

With a growl, he swept Hunter off his feet, carrying him over to the bed and roughly depositing him down onto the mattress. He made quick work of his clothing, tearing them from his body while the Huntsman stared up at him wide-eyed.

“Snow?” Hunter saw the change in him, but couldn’t comprehend where it’d come from, and he wasn’t about to pause to explain.

Why should he anyway?

Things between them had never gone smoothly. Why should their mating be any different?

Odin was tired of feeling dicked around by the other man. Tired of all of these insecurities sneaking up on him when he least expected them to. When he let his guard down. Originally, he’d brought Hunter here to make his life a living hell. To use him and then discard him. To show him what it felt like to be betrayed and left with nothing.

Then he’d discovered what Hunter was, and it’d been a no-brainer for him to want to keep him. Whispers were rare, even more so than Shouts, and there was no way in hell that Odin would let one slip through his fingers simply because it was a man from his past he harbored ill will towards.

Only…That wasn’t it either, was it? He’d convinced himself these past weeks that it was, had used the excuse of wanting a Whisper as the reason for his change of mind and feelings toward Hunter. But it was a lie.

The fact that Hunter was a Whisper was the thing Odin needed to give in to his true desires without feeling pissed off about it.

Without feeling like a fool.

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