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Searching his face for answers, I frown up at him. “And this makes you unhappy?”
Laughing without humour, he releases me and pushes his hands through his hair. “I’m fucking shocked. I am old, Emmy. I have been searching for a long time, and I gave up on ever finding you.” Sighing, he shakes his head, still watching me the entire time. “No. No, I’m not unhappy. I just wish this had happened differently. I hadn’t planned on fucking and feeding on my mate in a broom cupboard to seal our connection.”
I’m not complaining, but all of this is new to me, and I need some answers. His reactions are giving me whiplash. “So what does this mean?”
“It means, Emmy, that we’re connected forever.” His voice lowers as he steps closer and grips my chin with his hand. “You are mine, and I am yours.” Something seems to occur to him, and he curses, looking around as though he could see through the walls. “And you’re currently locked up.”
Arousal floods through me at his possessive words. I never thought I was into that, but coming from Zane, it turns me on beyond belief. Knowing that we are bonded, connected forever, should frighten me. I hardly know him, but I can feel a piece of him inside me, and a part of me knows that he is destined to be mine. The idea of being parted from him now causes a huge rush of emotions to crash through me, a turbulent mix of fear, anger, frustration, and sorrow. I just found him, just became his mate, and now we have to part. Trying to push down the crushing anxiety in my chest, I take several deep breaths and focus on what I know.
“My assessment is tomorrow,” I point out, my voice only betraying a fraction of the fear I’m experiencing right now. “I should be out then.”
He curses again as he looks down at his watch, returning to his pacing. “And now we have a meeting with fucking Officer Perfect, and we’re both covered in blood.”
My eyes widen. Fuck, he’s right. Glancing down at myself, I wince at the amount of blood that stains my clothes. I look like I massacred the town, not the best thing when I’m trying to prove that I am safe and responsible.
“Oh shit. We should probably get cleaned up.” I don’t know how much time we have until the meeting, but I get the impression we’re running late, which is the last thing I want to do. However, turning up covered in blood and smelling of sex is not going to go down well either. Turning towards the door, I move to leave, but his hand catches my arm, pulling me to a stop. Glancing over my shoulder, I see his serious expression.
“I have something I need to do first.”
My brows pop up in surprise. He seemed so sure that we needed to get moving. “Oh, what—”
I’m cut off as he pulls me against him and presses his lips to mine. It’s a slow, deep, and decadent kiss, the type that feels as though you’re being consumed, body, mind, and soul.
I don’t know how long we are like that for, but it feels both like a lifetime and not long enough. He pulls back, his smile smug as he takes in my glazed expression.
“Much better,” he purrs, igniting my arousal once more.
Before I can do anything stupid, like act on it, he takes my hand in his and walks from the cupboard. Reluctantly, he drops it when we are in the main corridor, but he sticks close enough to me that our shoulders brush as we walk.
It’s the strangest sensation, as I can feel him hovering in the back of my mind, yet it’s more of an awareness of his presence rather than specific thoughts. I know that he hates the distance he has to keep between us though.
On top of all these new emotions and feelings I’m experiencing, my stomach is so full I feel like I’m about to burst. In fact, I feel like I could roll down the hallway, much like that scene in Indiana Jones, when he rolls from the boulder. Yup, that’s me right now, the boulder.
How am I still craving blood? Before I mated, I was hungry but able to control myself. Now, it is a whole different story. What happened to me, and why am I suddenly so desperate for blood? My stomach is so bloated, and I feel like I’d be sick if I were to drink anything else, yet my fangs ache just at the thought of blood.
“Why do I feel so…” I trail off, not sure how to explain myself. Instead, I make a fang motion with my fingers to gesture biting someone.
Smirking, he shakes his head. “I told you before, you’re like a teenager in vampire years, and you will have some swings in your urges. They will be stronger for a while and sometimes come out of nowhere, but they will pass. You just have to learn not to act on them unless you’re in a safe position to do so.”
He makes it sound so easy. My teenage years were ugly, so the prospect of having to go through all of that again, while also wanting to bleed everyone dry, doesn’t fill me with hope.
We reach the top of the stairs and come to an abrupt stop as we come face-to-face with Gabriel. His eyes land on me and my bloody state, and he immediately turns to Zane, fury changing his face into someone I don’t recognise. His wings extend wide behind him as he leaps forward and slams Zane into the wall. The whole building seems to shake with the force of it, and for a split second, I’m frozen in place.
“What the fuck did you do to her?” Gabriel demands, looking like an avenging angel. His body seems to flicker, and shadows leak from him, crawling across the ground and up the walls until the two of them are completely surrounded. An ominous feeling fills the room, and my breath mists in front of my face, the temperature dropping dramatically.
Gasping and coming to my senses, I try to jump forward to break them apart, but his wings stop me from getting close. Frustrated and fearful, I contemplate plucking one of his feathers to see if that will make him pay attention to me, but honestly I’m more afraid of the creepy shadows that surround them.
I’m vaguely aware of others entering the hallway, but no one dares to come any closer. I could ask them for help, but so far, no one has been particularly welcoming, so I’m not going to risk it.
“Gabriel, he didn’t hurt me! I bit him!” I shout, my admission ringing around the hallway for everyone to hear. Right now, I don’t really care who hears me if it means he’ll release Zane.
“I can see the bite marks on your neck, Emily,” Gabriel grumbles, not taking his glare off Zane. “Do not lie to me.”
Usually I hate people calling me Emily, but in his accented voice, I find I don’t mind it. In fact, it sends a little thrill through me. To be honest, he could probably read the telephone book and make it sound sexy.
Stop getting distracted by the cute, winged creature, Emmy. Back to business.
Zane growls and pushes the other male off him in a show of strength that makes my knees tremble. “She’s my mate.”
