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“Good luck with whatever he asks of you, Ashryn. I don’t think it’s going to be straight forward.
No, I suspect he’s right.
Chapter Eight
Remus stands on the other side of my doorway with a cup of blood in his hand. At least, it smells like blood. I cock my head to the side, Eric’s words still ringing in my ears.
“Are you sure it’s a good idea to give me that?”
“Yes,” he answers. “It’ll help heal your burns.”
“Oh.” I haven’t really thought about the burns in a while. Mostly because my skin felt healed.
“I know it doesn’t hurt now, but the damage is a lot further down than you think it is. You need to get your strength back up.” He passes me the cup, and I take it without thinking. But I do hold back from drinking. Just. Eric is right, I do have plenty of discipline, but this is testing me to the limits.
“Even so...”
“You’re safe, Ashryn, I’m here to make sure you don’t go too crazy.” He brushes past me as he enters my room, and a warm feeling spreads through me, starting at the point where our skin touches. Oddly, I do feel safe with him about. And it still breaks my heart that others don’t always feel that way because of the scars. People can be idiots. Just because something isn’t perfect looking on the outside, doesn’t mean it doesn’t have any value. Or that it isn’t valuable. Sometimes, the broken things are worth the most.
“Is there a chance of that?” I ask.
“A very slim one. But I’ve only seen it happen once or twice in the years since we developed the chemical. And let’s just say they didn’t have your mental fortitude.”
“Sometimes, I doubt I do either.”
“Don’t,” he says, turning me around so I face him. “The fact you’re standing here and aren’t freaking out says a lot about how strong you are. Plus...” he trails off and glances away.
“Plus?” I prompt, trying to ignore the pressure of his hands on my arms and how much I like it. As cliché as it sounds, butterflies are making themselves known in my stomach. Guess there’s no denying I’m attracted to him any more then.
“You’ve spent two decades with the vampire hunters, yet here you are with an open mind, and a cup of blood.” We both glance down at the hand I’m still clutching the blood in. Which is when he notices his hands are still touching the bare skin of my arms.
He removes them instantly, causing disappointment to well up inside me. Guess I have it bad then. I’m not all that sure how to process that.
“Dimitri wants to see you,” he says, looking everywhere but me. Maybe I can hope he’s feeling the same kind of things I am. A girl can dream.
“He’s finally going to tell me what he wants from me then,” I mutter bitterly.
“What, no. Who said what?” he demands.
“No one. It was just something Eric said...”
“Don’t trust a thing that man says,” Remus growls.
“Don’t tell me what to do,” I bite back. Butterflies or no, he isn’t going to talk to me like that. “I do trust what he says. Because of how he talked to me. I get you don’t like him cause of the whole fake prophecy thing, but let me make up my own mind.”
He stares at me, flabbergasted by my outburst. I don’t know why.
It isn’t like I’m acting out of character or anything.
“Sorry,” he mutters, looking down and at least a little ashamed. As he should be. No one talks to me like that. And nobody is going to start.
“No problem. But don’t let it happen again,” I insist. He nods, but says nothing. Clever man. “So does he want me, or not?”
I sit down on my bed, mostly to put some distance between me and the man doing funny things to my insides. At least a little part of me wants him to stop whatever he’s doing so I can actually concentrate on something other than him.
“He does, yes.”
“Ha, so I’m right!” I almost jump up from my seat in my excitement. What can I say? I like being right. Even more so when the other person has been such an ass about it.
