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Cedra
It was well past lunch but I lingered in the barn, giving Pip’s coat a second rubdown.
We’d just been for a quick canter around the field and he’d worked up quite a sweat. He was a stately stud with a regal gait and a strong nose—a perfect match for Chrys, but she barely tolerated him.
Pip snorted in my direction as I moved the brush over his flank repeatedly. He was probably getting quite tired of this—my version of stalling was probably irritating his hide.
It’s just... How could I ever face her again?
I groaned aloud, leaning against Pip.
I’d seen the horrified look in Twyla’s eyes as she backed away from me.
First, I’d taken her blood, then pushed her away when my body called to her for more.
What person in their right mind would want to stay after this, especially a Royal runaway? She’d probably take her chances with the guy she left behind at this rate.
I grimaced.
Sure, it had been a while since I’d had any intimate encounters with a woman but this had to be the most awkward experience ever.
Except that...it had been the most exciting up to the point where I’d broken the kiss.
Want, want, want.
Her insistent, drug-fueled mental voice echoed in my head over and over.
I couldn’t get the voice out of my head. It swirled in a loop, reverberating through my body, head to toe and back again before settling in my chest with a warm glow. I hadn’t wanted anyone in a long time; I’d almost forgotten what it was like to feel so...alive.
I could still feel the brand of her lips against mine, the urgency of them and the little whimpers she made at the back of her throat. My fingers flexed as I thought of the soft dip of her waist under my fingertips. Gods, she’d been so warm, so pliant, so willing.
Damn my conscience!
I could imagine it now, pushing her against a sturdy wooden door and taking her lips slow, drawing out the pleasure I’d been denying myself for years. I heard the echo of her little whimpers in my ear, sweet encouragement for my fingers to explore more than their resting place on the dip of her waist.
Her fingers wouldn’t be idle either. No, they’d find the nape of my neck, holding me in place for her kisses as I cupped her rounded ass, pulling her even closer. And under it all, her blood would flow faster, hotter. Her body reacting to my scent; her limbs languid as they awaited pleasure.
Because that’s what I’d do...pleasure her until she was out of breath, panting, and calling my name for more. She’d whine, high and desperate, gripping me hard and fast as I—
Pip stepped to the side and snorted, and I dropped his brush in surprise. The erotic daydream floated away quickly. The image of Twyla and I in this very barn had taken over everything.
But reality was crushing.
She’d run. Although I suppose I had slapped her cheek without an explanation. She probably wasn’t thinking the nicest things about me right about now.
I should probably explain.
But how? How could I explain something I couldn’t quite believe myself? A connection like this was the stuff of fantasy, not real life. Especially not my life. Most Fanger couples I knew did not have this connection, although a part of me believed they hoped in their heart of hearts that their true Mates would find them one day. It was impractical, setting oneself up for failure because of a myth someone had created all those years ago.
Yet here I stood, befuddled and lost in my barn, trying to wrap my mind around the fact that the swift connection I’d felt had been real. The hunger, the desire, the piercing need to have Twyla by my side...all of it spoke of only one thing: a true Mate. Someone who answered my Blood Call. The one perfect person in our cluster of Stars that could make me feel alive again.
Only...she wasn’t a Fanger like me. She wouldn’t understand this intense call of a hybrid human. She might feel the urgency, the rarity, the perfect connection of a Blood Call, but would she know what it meant? For me? For us?
Too many questions.
I ran a palm over my cheek in an attempt to quell the rioting thoughts in my head, but regretted the decision when Pip’s short hairs stuck to my skin.
One thing stuck out with certainty: I needed to speak to Twyla.
