Total pages in book: 49
Estimated words: 46379 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 232(@200wpm)___ 186(@250wpm)___ 155(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 46379 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 232(@200wpm)___ 186(@250wpm)___ 155(@300wpm)
The vampire—Malachi—pushes off the doorframe and takes a purposefully slow step into the kitchen. He looks like he’s concentrating, as if it’s more natural for him to move too fast for me to really see. “You’re here for a reason. Don’t forget that.”
“Why not tattoo sacrifice on my forehead in case I forget?”
His brows inch up. “The last one wasn’t so mouthy.”
“And look what happened to her.” I don’t know much about the stranger who occupied this position before me. Only that she was chosen to continue Malachi’s bloodline and my father was infuriated by her ability to breed—and stay alive. I’m not even sure how long ago it was. “Thanks, but if I’m going to die in this house, I refuse to cower for the time I have remaining.”
His sensual lips curve, and I loathe I notice they’re sensual at all. “Are you mad I didn’t fuck you earlier?”
My jaw drops. “You’re out of your fucking mind!” I throw my hands up when he drifts another step closer. “I didn’t even want you to bite me.”
“Mmm.” Another step. I retreat and he stalks me through the kitchen. He’s edging me back into the corner of the counter, and there’s not a damn thing I can do about it. He finally stops a bare six inches from me and braces his hands on the counter on either side of my body. This close, it’s impossible not to notice, no matter how rundown the house, his clothing is new and smells faintly of tobacco and something spicy. He wears a pair of fitted pants and a shirt that would be at home on some historical romance about a pirate. It leaves a slice of his pale chest bare, and I can see a number of raised scars there.
It looks like someone tried to hack out his heart.
“I’ve tasted a lot of humans over the years.” He sounds almost like he’s musing to himself. “Even a few dhampirs before you.” His gaze coasts down my body, lingering on my breasts. “None of them tasted as good as you.”
I blink. “Is that supposed to be a compliment?”
“It’s a fact.” He shifts another inch closer. “It intrigues me.”
“Back off.” My voice comes out hoarse. My skin is tingling and I wish I could say it’s tingling with danger or fear. It’d be a lie. I’m fighting not to press my thighs together from the remembered pleasure.
Malachi leans down a little until he’s looking directly into my eyes. His eyes are so dark, they seem to draw in the light of the room. There’s a hunger lurking there, and I can’t stop the horrified suspicion he’s seeing that hunger reflected right back at him when he looks into my eyes.
His lips curve slowly. “You don’t want me to back off.”
“Wait.”
“You keep saying wait, little dhampir. Not stop. Shall I slow down farther?” He lifts his right hand with agonizing slowness. I stand perfectly still as he traces his thumb over my collarbone to the thin strap of my dress. Now’s the time to say stop. I don’t know if he’ll respect it, but I should voice it all the same. Should tell him how much I loathe his touch. How much I never want him to lay hands on me again.
I don’t.
I hold my breath and lift my chin.
He eases the strap off my shoulder and down, tugging it until the fabric falls to bare my breast. The cool air of the kitchen pebbles my nipple. Or that’s what I tell myself as he stares down at me. Using that same exaggerated slowness, he moves to my other shoulder and gives it the same treatment, until I’m naked from the waist up.
Malachi’s gaze flicks to my face, and whatever he sees there has him licking his lips. “You know why you’re here.”
He’s said the same thing to me multiple times last night. As if he’s checking in with me, which is laughable. He’s no different than my father, than all the other vampires I’ve been forced to interact with over the twenty-five years of my life. He wants what he wants, and he’ll mow down anyone who gets in his way. Including me. Especially me.
My anger blooms again, ready and waiting for the least provocation. I glare. “Just call me your resident blood bank and womb. Suck me, fuck me, do whatever you want. It’s not like I’m a real person to you. I’m just a little dhampir, after all.”
“You’re my little dhampir now.” He brackets my waist with his hands, his fingers digging in the slightest bit. I have the borderline hysterical thought he could literally rip me limb from limb right now and there’s not a damn thing I could do about it.
Wouldn’t that ruin my father’s day? I laugh. I can’t help it. It comes out angry and derisive. “I might have been traded like a possession, but I’m not yours. I never will be.”