Page 157 of Hunt Me

Matilda’s wet eyes lifted to his.

“Then what makes one a monster?”

“Choice.”

Silence settled between them for a moment.

“The hunger told you to feed. It told you to abandon the wounded and satisfy yourself, and you chose to remain behind so Denalia could escape.” A tear slipped down Matilda’s cheek. Luka quickly wiped it away. “Never in eternity would I consider you, Matilda Seraphina Alesi, to be soulless.”

She shook her head. “You weren’t there. You don’t know how badly I wanted it.”

“I have walked this earth for centuries.” His voice softened. “Do you truly believe I do not?”

“I believe you,” she conceded. “But if one day I cannot stop myself?” Luka didn’t answer immediately because he didn’t want to insult her with an easy promise. “Then I will stop you. And when the hunger passes, I will still be there.”

She finally broke. Luka caught her as she folded into him, burying her face against his shoulder. Her body shook with sobs she had been holding back since she’d ridden through the gates. He held her without assurances that she would never lose control or promises that immortality would become easy. His only truth was that his arms would always receive her.

After a while, Matilda whispered against his chest, “I truly did consider the pig.”

Luka closed his eyes. “We shall keep that indignity between ourselves.”

A small laugh broke free from her. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. Though, I confess, I am somewhat offended.”

She pulled back and peered at him with reddened eyes. “Why?”

“You have my blood available to you, yet apparently swine will suffice.”

She shoved his shoulder, and he smiled.

“There is certainly no difference between your blood and swine blood.”

Luka scoffed. “I beg to differ.”

“Are you offering then?”

He brushed away a flyaway curl before leaning down to kiss her forehead.

“Come, my Queen. Denalia slumbers. I shall satiate you.”

***

Their private bathing chamber sat beyond an arched doorway adjoining their bedchamber. The bath was built directly into the stone floor, broad enough to comfortably accommodate several bodies, and deep enough for the water to reach Matilda’s chest while seated.

Steam billowed from the water servants had carried in by the bucketful. Strategically placed candles flickered, and bundles of dried lavender and rosemary hung nearby.

A narrow hearth burned against the far wall, keeping the chamber pleasantly warm despite the winter cold that at times found its way into the castle.

Matilda sank deep into the water with a sigh. Luka settled between her legs with his back against her chest. It was a peculiar position for them, yet Luka’s desire to feed his queen outweighed any embarrassment.

Wet strands of dark hair clung to his back until he gathered them in one hand and swept them over his shoulder. He tilted his head, laying completely exposed to her.

Matilda stared, intrigued by his willingness to offer himself. There was something strangely vulnerable and exhilarating about the gesture. Luka Alesi, King of Night Falls, had ruled with an iron fist—once the boogeyman of her nightmares—and now he sat with his back to her, throat bared, offering himself without hesitation.

“Feed,” he murmured.

Her gaze remained fixed on his pulse that she easily found under his pale skin. She hesitated.