Crimson Hunter (Onyx Assassins #6) Read Online Samantha Whiskey

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Bad Boy, Fantasy/Sci-fi, Magic, Paranormal Tags Authors: Series: Onyx Assassins Series by Samantha Whiskey
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Total pages in book: 90
Estimated words: 84864 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 424(@200wpm)___ 339(@250wpm)___ 283(@300wpm)
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“I mean, aren’t you scared you’ll break her?” Dagon continued.

Yes, actually, I was. It was one of the many logical reasons I had for keeping away from her. Problem was, the illogical knowledge that I didn’t want to. She was laughter and life, and everything I’d thought the centuries of my existence had numbed me to.

“Grace isn’t up for discussion.” The words came out as little more than a growl, as a primal, undeniable anger prowled through me.

“Touchy.” Talon smiled, clearly enjoying my discomfort.

“What human?” Zachariah’s voice rose, and my temper snapped.

“She’s not up for discussion!” I snapped, jerking back my power so that time started around us again.

My brothers stared at me like I’d lost my mind, and Zachariah’s forehead puckered.

I sat back in my chair and stared at the goblet of blood. What the fuck had just happened to me? I never lost my temper. Never.

I was the easygoing one. The calm one. The rational one.

I wasn’t…whatever this was.

“Why don’t you take tonight off?” Zachariah suggested in a tone that implied it wasn’t a suggestion.

“Yeah.” I nodded.

“Everything okay?” Ransom asked, glancing over us with confusion.

“Yep,” Talon answered.

“Ajax,” Zachariah commanded my attention.

I turned slightly to look him in the eyes.

“Don’t go there hungry.”

This was a bad idea, and yet here I was anyway, standing in the corner of Grace’s kitchen as she made spaghetti carbonara for the two of us.

The space was a mix of efficient and feminine, the room painted with bright, warm colors that made it feel more like a home than anywhere I’d ever lived.

“It smells amazing.” I leaned against the counter of her cozy kitchen, having been forbidden to touch anything. Dinner wasn’t the only thing that smelled mouth-watering. Every time Grace leaned into my space, reaching for various spices, I had to bite back a groan and fight to keep my fangs from extending.

“Thank you,” she replied with a smile that simultaneously made my chest ache and my dick hard. “It’s the only thing I’m really good at making, so don’t get used to it.”

“I won’t.” Fuck, did she look good tonight. But she always did. She’d traded her pajama pants for a green sundress that flirted with her thighs as her hips swished back and forth to the rhythm of the music coming through the speakers.

How could someone so in love with life be dying?

I’d tried to heed Zachariah’s advice, but my stomach had rioted the second I’d gotten near the feeders in the Domum. Instead, I’d pretty much plugged my nose and swallowed as much of the bag of O negative as I could handle, which wasn’t nearly enough to constitute a feeding.

Which meant I wasn’t just hungry for the pasta she was happily preparing.

“You seem…restless tonight,” Grace noticed.

“I haven’t moved from this spot since you told me to stay here.” I folded my arms across my chest.

“You can’t blame me for wanting to keep an eye on you. You always end up disappearing on me. And besides, I don’t mean restless like you’re about to go run a mile,” she said, studying me carefully. “There’s just something about you that’s a little different, a little edgy. Your eyes seem darker, and…” She shook her head. “Maybe it’s just me.”

Nope, not her. She was just that observant.

My kind weren’t exactly fun to be around when we needed to feed.

“I’m hungry. Nothing to worry about.” I flashed her a smile.

“Really? That’s all?” She lifted a brow at me.

“It’s a little more complicated than that, but basically, yes.” If she knew how she smelled, how that steady, thrumming pulse at her neck called to me, she would have shoved me out the door and thrown the deadbolt.

At least, I hoped she would have.

“Well, I’m getting ready to feed you, so that should solve that problem.” She stirred the pasta one last time, then donned hot pot holders and drained the silver pot into a strainer in the sink. Steam caressed the lines of her cheeks. “And then we’re going to have sex.”

I blinked. There was no way I just heard her say that…was there? My body was pretty fucking certain, though, and it was fully on board with the suggestion. Heat and lust raced through my veins, triggering the very instincts I’d tried to keep quiet tonight.

Taste.

She put the pasta back into the pot and smiled at me as she spun back to the stove.

“I’m sorry. I think I misheard you,” I said slowly.

“I said we’re going to have sex,” she said, glancing over at me before adding the pasta to the sauce. “After dinner.” She set the pot on one of the unused burners. “Plus, by then I’ll have a pretty good grip on if you’re a hallucination, right? Unless I can magically eat all this by myself.”

I stared at her, and then stared some more, locking every muscle to keep from lunging for her and forgetting about dinner. “That’s not going to happen,” I finally managed to say.


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