Page 81 of Hunger


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That brought my chin up. “I’ll cry if I want to. I’m pregnant and I want to see my mom.”

I’d officially regressed to the age of a five-year-old, but I was too raw from my earlier breakdown to filter myself. Plus, it was the truth and he’d ordered me not to lie.

“Okay, cry, then.” He pulled me into his chest, his arms wrapped around me. No promises, just the comfort of his body. “But I hate it when you’re sad,” he added under his breath like he didn’t want to admit it even to himself.

I leaned into him, soaking in his earthy, Talon scent.

I needed. Lord, I needed.

His big hand stroked my back, and my muscles loosened, my eyes drifting shut. I should’ve been in bed an hour ago. I took a jagged breath, exhausted both physically and emotionally, and offered him a wobbly smile. “Sorry. I’m not usually so…”

“You’re tired. I shouldn’t have come.”

“No. I’m glad you did. But I am tired.”

I pushed at his chest and this time, he released me. I sat on the edge of the bed.

Instead of leaving, Talon lowered himself to the mattress next to me. “You fucked with us, Eden. I can’t just let that go—

I cut him off. “It’s okay. I accept that this is part of my punishment. You don’t have to explain.”

I was so damn tired of his walls. Of pretending that I was okay with the fact that he didn’t love me.

“Yeah, well.” He rubbed his cheek. “I guess I’ll go. Have a good night.”

I snagged his wrist before he could stand up. I blame my sleepy brain because keeping him here wouldn’t change things or make this into something it wasn’t.

“Don’t go. Please?” When he just looked at me, I added, “Just stay until I fall asleep. I don’t want to be alone. It’s…wearing me down.”

He rolled his lips in. “Okay. But just for a few minutes.”

“In bed with me,” I added, in case he hadn’t understood.

He stripped down to his boxer briefs and lifted the comforter for me. I climbed into bed, laying my head on the pillow, and he followed, his long body spooning mine, his arm slung over my hips.

My breath sighed out. I adjusted his arm so it was where I liked it, right below my breasts, and shut my eyes. He brushed his fingertips over the gold cuff, then twined his fingers in mine.

My heart fisted in my chest. The kisses, the affectionate position, the entangled fingers—all of that felt like love. But he didn’t love me, and it hurt. He hadn’t even offered to cuddle me. I’d had to ask.

And I was a masochist for asking him to stay. For making myself vulnerable to him.

I wanted so badly to believe he had feelings me. That he’d finally realized he loved me.

But that was my heart talking, because sooner or later, Talon would recall that he was a vampire while I was a disgraced thrall.

And oh yeah, the incubator of his child. No, his spawn.

When my heart curled into that armadillo shape again, I welcomed it. Because if I didn’t protect myself, he’d only break my heart—again. And this time, the damage might be permanent.

I shifted, putting an inch between our bodies, but he drew me back.

“Hey,” he said against my ear. “Stop thinking. Relax.”

I heaved a breath, but he was right. I was so tired of thinking. Worn out from my seesawing emotions, I closed my eyes.

When I opened them again, we’d changed positions, with Talon on his back and me snuggled into his chest. I wasn’t sure of the time, but at least a couple of hours had passed. I breathed him in, basking in the fact that he’d stayed.

I slipped out of the four-poster bed to use the washroom, triggering a couple of lights to come on at knee level, casting a soft glow over the bedroom. When I returned, Talon was propped on a forearm, his eyes shining in the shadows beneath the canopy.

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