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Hunter couldn’t help but lift his brow in surprise. “You do know what I’m actually saying, right?”
“You were a good fighter in the past,” Odin gave him a once over, “Though you’ll need to train again and get your body back into shape. And aside from that one time, you were also an impeccable marksman. I won’t ever allow you to put yourself in direct danger, but you’re right. We both lost our families to Isa. Let’s destroy him. Together.”
The way Odin was looking at him had Hunter hesitating. There was so much possessiveness swirling in the other man’s eyes, and a glint of smugness impossible not to note. He was already celebrating in his head, already congratulating himself on his conquest.
Of Hunter.
“None of that now,” Odin said, voice dripping low. “Too late for second thoughts.”
Hunter swallowed.
“Ask me,” he commanded. “All you have to do is ask.”
To officially sign his life and his freedom and his body away, that was.
But Odin was right. It was too late.
Hunter inhaled slowly to buy himself some more time, but there was only so much oxygen he could squeeze into his lungs. Since the moment his father had brought him to the Faraway Mansion and presented him to the Snow family, his choices hadn’t really been his choices at all.
It was far past time for Hunter to accept that fact and move forward.
“Will you mate me,” he hardly recognized the sound of his own voice with how low, husky, and filled with anticipation it was, “Odin Snow?”
The look that came over his face was everything Hunter suspected the devil would possess. Twisted elation, self-satisfaction and arrogance, dark desire, an upward curve to his lips that said everything that his words didn’t.
Hunter had just sold himself to a monster.
And the monster was feeling pretty damn pompous about that fact.
“Yes.” Odin held out his hand. “Come to bed, Little Whisper.”
Hunter felt a twinge of fear in his gut, and it must have shown because Odin clucked his tongue and advanced another step.
“I told you,” Odin shook his head, “All you had to do was ask, and so you have. I’ll do the rest, Huntsman.” He reached out and trailed the backs of his knuckles down the length of Hunter’s jaw.
“Pick one,” Hunter said a bit more breathlessly than he would have liked, “A nickname.”
“Why?” he cocked his head. “Is it making it harder for you to focus? Me switching back and forth?”
“Yes.”
Odin grinned, his satisfaction furthered. “Good.”
Hunter started to scowl, but Odin’s fingers capturing his chin stopped the expression from fully forming.
“No,” he said, “keep looking at me just like this.”
“Like what?” Hunter had no clue how he’d been looking at him.
“Like I’m your Shout,” Odin bragged, “and you finally know it.”
Before Hunter could respond to that, the other man’s lips were crashing down to his. His mouth was forced open by both the press of Odin’s tongue and the pinching of his fingers at his chin, and then he was being filled up, practically eaten alive by the brutality of the kiss.
It was intense and fiercely dominating, with Odin controlling every aspect of it. He tugged Hunter flush against him, one arm tight at his waist, the other tipping his head to change the angle as he swept his tongue across the roof of his mouth.
Odin tasted slightly sweet, with a hint of alcohol, and the woodsy smell of burning logs and candy apple tickled Hunter’s nose. A moan slipped past his defenses, immediately swallowed by the Snow Dominus.
“Come to bed,” Odin pulled back just enough to breathe the words across Hunter’s cheeks. “Come to bed and offer yourself to me. Let me show you I’m the best choice you could ever make. Let me mate you and prove you’re mine. You’ve always been mine, Huntsman. Even when we were both in denial. That’s always been a fact.”
