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“What are you doing?” she asked, startling him enough that he stopped, lifted his yellow gaze to hers, and stared.
Thinking he hadn’t understood her, she spoke directly into his mind.
Conall, what are you doing?
Holding herself up was becoming daunting so she allowed her body to fall backward. Light exploded in the dimly lit room, and moments later, Conall in his human form hovered over her. He touched her temples and lifted her head to run his fingers over the back. The concern she read in his eyes both startled and comforted her.
“How do you feel?” His voice was both gruff and gentle.
“Like it’s freshman year of college, and I just pulled my first all-nighter,” she quipped easily, wanting to put a smile on his face. It didn’t work. He looked even more confused, so she chuckled and said, “Good. I feel good.”
He nodded. “Do you remember what happened?”
Sighing, Vivienne related what she remembered. Her fight with Samia, which served to make Conall angrier, being led back to the house with Sloan, and the darkness.
“Darkness?” he asked slowly, brows lifting as his fingers stroked her cheek.
“I don’t know how to describe it. I felt something dark cloud my mind right before I pushed Samia away, and I felt the same thing when I was trying to get away from Sloan.”
A scary expression descended on Conall’s face as he asked lowly, “Did he hurt you?”
“No,” she said quickly, sensing that one affirmative answer would lead to Conall rushing from the room to do only God knew what to Sloan. When he looked doubtful, she forced a smile and said, “Maybe just my pride.”
He nodded, and continued to stare at her.
When long seconds trickled by, Vivienne asked, “Why are you looking at me like that?”
“Did you feel anything else except darkness?”
She nodded, and told him about how her body had felt electrified when she’d faced Samia.
He nodded once more, but remained silent.
“Well, are you going to tell me why I fainted?” she teased, moving her arms from beneath the duvet to stretch them above her head. As she did so, her eyes caught sight of the window, and the darkness outside.
She pushed herself up immediately. “What time is it?”
“Midnight.” The reply was nonchalant and he continued to stare at her like some great puzzle he was trying to figure out.
“Oh my God, I’ve been asleep for most of the day?”
A nod confirmed her suspicions. And her stomach seconded it with a loud growl. She clutched her belly and looked up at him through lowered lids. A little smile was now on his lips, and he was staring at her with a raised brow.
“Well, what do you expect?” Vivienne finally said, shaking her head even as she pushed the duvet from her body and stepped onto the carpeted floor. “I’ve been asleep for over twelve hours. I’m starving.”
She walked over to the door, intent on pulling it open and heading to the kitchen. Normally, there was a copious amount of food stacked in the refrigerator, which was a good thing, as the men in the house, Conall, Sloan, Raoul, and Eli, were like trash disposers when it came to food. They ate, stopped long enough to breathe, ate some more, and then kept eating. A woman came in every few days to restock the fridge and cook, but she wasn’t one for conversation.
Vivienne’s hand closed around the doorknob, and she turned it. It refused to budge. Blinking, she turned it again, and then shook it. What the hell?
“Are you still in a mad rage?” a bored and very familiar voice asked from the other side of the door.
Vivienne was just about to tell whoever it was to either open the door or bring her some food, when Conall gently lifted her out of the way.
He tugged at the doorknob once more, and said in his obey-me-or-pay voice, “Raoul, I’m giving you two choices. You can open the door now, or I can break the door down and deal with you.”
There was a pause, and Vivienne heard shifting from the other side.
“Conall, I don’t think it’s a good idea—”
Clutching her growling stomach, Vivienne cut him off. “I don’t know why you’ve locked us in this room Raoul, but I’m hungry, so either open the door or bring me something to eat.”
“Either way you’ll have to open the door.” The warning didn’t go over anyone’s head.
Vivienne looked up at him. Why were they looked in the bedroom? She might have asked for an answer had she not heard the jingling of keys. Moments later, she faced Raoul, who gave her a sheepish grin, but kept his eyes on Conall.
“Where’s Sloan?”
On her way to the staircase, Vivienne stopped and looked over her shoulder. Conall sounded so menacing, and he certainly looked the part, naked as he was. Oh sweet Jesus, the man was bare-as-the-day-he-was-born naked! And she hadn’t even recognized. Well, of course she had, but she was accustomed to seeing him like that, and why was he walking out of the room naked? Right! Werewolf. They were regular nudists.
