Bite, My Love (15 page)

I respect
that.

Struggling to keep my inner voice steadfast yet desperate to
change his mind, I think,
‘We can keep her
safe.’

‘
You would risk her life – yours! When you are not
certain?’
His lips press together in
disappointment.
‘And you expect me to take
you seriously, and not treat you like a burden.’

My neck’s
hot but fuck him. It’s my prerogative to avoid a trap I’m
biologically biased to fail.

‘
If war comes our Brides will be the first thing the Lycans
come for. You are considerably weaker than us–’

‘
But I–’

He slams his fist onto the chair armrest.
‘You will listen.’

I glare
at the floor.

‘
Lee holds the curse in her blood and will be protected to the
death. She would be the last one standing. Do you hear me?
The
last
one.
Picture a world where you died, and I remained. You used to think
of me as evil? Evil is holy compared to what I would do to each
Lycan man, woman, and child if they took you from me.’

My tears
fall hot and heavy. “Please, Daniel. No.”

I watch
his feet move as he stands.

Sliding a
finger under my chin, he lifts my gaze to his. His thumb rubs my
cheek. “With me you may not play coy. You are not, and it does not
become you.”

Pulling
my shit together, I push the tangle of hair from my sticky face. I
wipe my cheeks and compose myself. “I need to think.”

Daniel’s
hand squeezes until his fist creaks with tension. An enchanting
smile curves his lips. “If you must. Come with me.”

CHAPTER TWELVE

Popping
the button and pulling the zip, Daniel loops his thumbs into the
waist of my jeans and drags them off my hips.

I rest my
hands on his broad shoulders for balance. The stubbly underside of
his jaw is irresistible, and I rub my thumb over the hard
contour.

Daniel
stares at the scrap of lace hugging my bony hips. A tremor rocks
his frame. “I like this.”

Untying
the knot at the base of my spine, he lazily pops the buttons on my
shirt.

He’s
close enough for me to rest my head on his chest and reposition my
hands onto his waist. The hold is intimate. I savour the feel of
his fingers brushing the skin of my bared back.

I feel
close
to him.

Regardless of his aloofness, I know if I tell Daniel anything
he won’t judge. He might make a statement or declaration in
response, but there will be no judgement or
condemnation.

The
cotton shirt falls to the floor, and we’re holding each other.
Standing still. I’m afraid moving or speaking will splinter the
trance.

Daniel
nudges my head with his chin. I bare my throat and he settles his
head in the crook of my shoulder. Hmmm. How happy to be tall am
I?

Kisses
tickle my flesh, and as his lips brand my skin I take in the little
things. He has a dusting of caramel-coloured freckles across the
nape of his neck. There's a birthmark behind his right ear. His
thick hair is a darker blonde at the roots, and his hairline is
uneven. Leaning back, I thrust my hips into his, and lace my
fingers together at the back his neck. There are small scars along
his forearms where his shirtsleeves are rolled up. He wears two
shirt buttons undone at his throat instead of one. His torso is
longer than average. Rangy legs are probably a tad shorter than
they should be on someone his height. The lower hem of his shirt is
untucked from his–

“
Your jeans aren’t ruined.” I assess the dark denim with a
critical eye. Expensive. Twisted cut. So he’s old but he has style?
His muscled thighs were visible before through the gaping tears. I
admit the blood soaked garment was a vast improvement on these
current jeans. More of his delicious flesh was on display. “You
went home for more clothes?” I try to look him in the eye and end
up staring over his shoulder. “Your home in the city?”

“
Ja.” Daniel pulls my arms from around his neck.

He draws
me a bath.

Does he
resent having to stay at Castle with Ben and Lee so loved up? He
tried hard to obstruct their relationship. Does he begrudge me for
keeping him here?

“
You don’t have to stay here if you don’t want.”

Unresponsive, Daniel wiggles his fingers in the bath water.
He adds liquid soap from a beautiful glass bottle. Freestanding
brass taps glow dimly from the low light hanging overhead. The roll
top bath fills with hot water, the bubbles and steamy vapour
infusing the room with the snappish fragrance of
peppermint.

“
I don’t want you to feel trapped or beholden to me for
anything.” Hugging my stomach, I shuffle closer, unsure because he
won’t respond. “It’s not like mates can’t be apart. I can stay here
by myself if you feel more comfortable in your own
home.”

It would
be hellish for my wolf to know he was gone without knowing he was
coming back.

I wasn’t
desperate enough to admit that aloud.

The stone
floor is cold. I dance from one foot to the other, biting my
tongue.

Daniel’s
back’s to me, but steam fogs up the bathroom mirror, so I can’t
covertly judge his expression.

Sighing,
I sniff deeply. I smile and wander to the open window to peer
outside. The sea. It’s so beautiful. Past the rocky shoreline the
horizon is endless. The waters ripple in dark blue waves gilded in
silver moonlight.

“
Get in.”

I glower
over my shoulder. “You have nothing to say to me?”

“
Did you ask a question I missed?” Daniel crooks a finger at
me then taps the rolled top of the copper bath.

Nothing I said
was phrased as a question, but he knows the comments were
suggestive. I fished for a reassuring response he’s chosen not to
give. “Touché.”

“
Coulé.”

“
Um.” I scrunch up my face. Kind of afraid I’ll hurt my head
remembering anymore. “Yup, touché is all the French I know. What
did you say?” My brows swoop low and I glower. “Did you insult
me?”

“
No.” Striding over, he sweeps me off my feet. “Such excellent
pronunciation.”

A slow
smile spreads across my face. “Really?”

“
Truly.”

“
So what does it mean?”

“
Imagine our battle of wits as a duel of swords.” Daniel’s
eyes shimmer with amusement. The lapis lazuli of his irises is
pushed aside by a radiant cerulean that bleeds from his pupils.
Even those inky puddles twinkle magically. “I’d transcend my touché
by feinting and sliding my rapier along your blade to conclude my
attack.”

I loop my
arms around his neck and give him a small squeeze. “You’re so
crazy.”

The
corners of his eyes crinkle. “And you are young.”

Daniel
places me in the bath water.

Prickly
heat rushes up my thighs and back until a flush blooms on my face.
The moisture relaxes the aches. I ease down with a sigh, the water
lapping at my neck. Mind drifting and bobbing from thought to
thought, I rest my head on the lip of the tub. The ends of my hair
float on the surface of the water and snake canyons through the
bubbles. Blissed out, I lift my hands to rub my face. The water
trickles off my nose and chin.

I fall
into the notes of a piano, playing with bubbles as I
listen.

I can’t
find a suitable word to describe the poignancy. The melody moves
me. “The music is beautiful.” Lame but true. I shrug apologetically
for how unimaginative my response is.

Daniel
kneels beside the bath. He brushes my hair over my shoulder. “My
thanks.”

It’s the
way he said it. Unsure the compliment is one he can
accept.

My hands
had touched him the moment he was close enough. Now my stroking
fingers still as I come to terms with Daniel being capable of
making this extraordinary composition.

He smiles
at my astonishment. “Maybe one day I will play for you.”

“
Today can’t be ‘one day’ because…?”

“
I do not wish for it to become associated with–” Mouth
snapping shut he rakes a hand through his hair.

“
You don’t want this to be associated with me in case things
turn bad.”

Face
tight, he picks up a sponge and soaks it. I let him rub me down,
the strokes smooth and sure.

He
rewards my silence.

“
I love to play, but it is not something I share easily. I– I
hide it.” He frowns, shakes his head, eyes closing briefly in
shame. “I do not wish to share it.”

I spread
my fingers under the surface of the water. My skin looks plumper
and more vivid. “I’m not sure I understand.”

‘
Have you ever treasured something? In a way strange to others
but clear to you?’

Nod.

“
What?”

I touch his chest over his heart.
‘You.’

Daniel
drops the sponge. His hand blurs to snatch it from the surface of
the water. “Explain.”

“
How much do you know about my kind?”

“
Nothing more than that separating fact from myth.”

I
contemplate this. “The Great Bloodline knows little about its
enemy.”

“
We were never your enemy. Lycanthropes are young and
bellicose.” He pauses. “Territorial and possessive.”

“
Young? My wolf spirit is ancient.”

“
She does not live life for you, merely experiences it through
you. No memories or wisdom is inherited from your wolf, just
power.”

“
You make it sound like a bad thing.”

He arches
a brow. “To be given power without wisdom is not bad. It is
dangerous.” He dismisses the topic with a shake of his head.
“Vampires live too long to bother with petty disputes over land. As
long as we can roam at will we do not care if a few corners of the
world are off bounds to us. The Lycans declared war on
us.”

Considering I’m Lycan, not him, I disagree with his views on
the wolf spirit, but I can’t help but agree with what he says about
my species confrontational temperament. Apart from Sean’s death
there had not been an act of aggression from the Great bloodline to
one of the Lycan Packs in centuries.

The last
two acts of unprovoked aggression on neutral ground had been the
faults of Lycans, not Vampires.

His
perception of my wolf spirit is correct in essence, but shouldn’t
form the entire basis of his understanding of what it means to be
two natured and Pack.

How do I
explain a way of life, a frame of mind to someone who’s spent his
life answerable to no one?

“
Harmony?” Daniel strokes my neck and lifts my
chin.

I stare
into his eyes, and the words form in my mind so easily. “As a Pack
member I’m compelled to share.” I swallow the instinctive response
to brush over the traits he might find ugly. “It’s our culture to
give without resentment and receive without hesitation. It’s how
our society survives isolated from the rest of the world. It’s how
the Pack functions. Everything I have can be taken if needed by a
pack-mate. When I was a pup my toys were given away even if I loved
them. My favourite clothes as teenager were handed out if others
were in need. I shared my mother as a baby, and Daddy’s affection
wasn’t mine alone.” I clear my throat nosily. “I hate it. I
understand the need for my things to be shared, but there were
times when I was young I begged for things I loved to be left
alone. I was branded selfish.”

I huddle
in the bath and put my chin on my knees. This is embarrassing. I
avoid Daniel’s gaze.

“
You get nothing in return?”

“
Anything I need is given without a moment's pause. I have a
dozen surrogate mothers to stand in for mine when she’s needed
elsewhere. Men who protect and guide me when Daddy can’t.” I risk a
look at Daniel and find his expression indestructible. It helps.
“Do you understand what I mean by compelled to share? I can demand
the clothes of a woman’s back in the middle of the street and she
is expected to strip naked.”

“
You speak theoretically.”

“
I’ve seen it happen.”

Revulsion
streaks across his face. “It sounds dysfunctional.”

I smile,
but the corners of my lips pull down killing it dead. “You’re the
first thing I choose to keep for myself. That I refuse to give up.”
I pat my chest. “Mine.”

Daniel
doesn’t speak. He scrubs the sponge over my back with rapt
attention.

How embarrassing to throw all that out there and to get
nothing in return.
‘I’m not trying to
pressure you–’

‘
Don’t assume I won’t respond.’

Struggling not to hold bated breath, I focus on the haunting
music. I inhale deeply to appreciate the delicate high notes of the
bath oil. I flex my back and take pleasure in the steam caressing
my skin; cooling gathering, rolling down to re-join the body of
water cocooning my limbs and offering the gentlest
buoyancy.