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"Look at me," he commands, close enough that I can feel the heat radiating off him.
I tilt my head up, our gazes locking. There's a challenge there, an invitation to a game I'm not sure I want to play. But I have no choice. His hand brushes mine as he lifts the fork, and even this small touch sends awareness prickling over my skin.
He takes a bite of the food--some kind of white pasta dish--and he groans slightly at the flavor.
"Not poisoned," he says. "Just delicious."
"And the wine?" I challenge.
He chuckles and shakes his head before picking up my glass.
"See?" He dips his head lower, lips brushing the rim of my wine glass before he takes a sip. The sight is intimate, too intimate, and it stirs something deep inside me, something I refuse to name. "It's safe."
"Is it?" I ask, but the question gets lost somewhere between a whisper and a dare.
"Open up," he says, voice smooth, and everything about him screams danger wrapped in a promise. But I open my mouth anyway, letting him slide the fork between my lips. The pasta is rich, flavorful, and for a moment, I forget this is anything but dinner.
"Good, isn't it?" he murmurs.
I chew. Swallow.
Choke on my desire for this powerful alpha.
"Passable," I lie.
His chuckle rumbles through the space, low and knowing. "I trust you're fully capable of feeding yourself?" he says.
"Mostly."
He snorts. "Fine. Then enjoy."
I sigh and look down at my plate, but I can't resist any longer--and now that I know it's safe, I'm starving. I dig into the pasta, taking a few big bites before washing it down with wine. Everything tastes divine, rich, wonderful...and I don't stop until my plate is empty. Vance eats with me, watching from across the table like he can learn something from my eating habits.
Maybe he can.
But that's okay...because I'm an open book.
I sit back in my seat when I'm done, thanking the butler when he comes back in to refill my wine. I can feel the heady effects of the alcohol on my mind, making me a little more dull, a little less on guard. I'm so tired that I know I need to sleep, too...and it irks me that Vance has me exactly where he wants me.
"Why did you bring us here?" I ask.
"Because the church clearly wasn't secure enough to hold you," Vance says. "And because...well, you're my problem now, whether I like it or not."
"I'm a human being," I say.
"Not to the Eclipse," he says. "To me--yes, of course you are. But to them...they see you as something I stole. And they know you're hiding in Celestial Hills, that much is certain."
"Why all the fuss over little old me?" I say quietly.
Vance's eyes narrow, and I see the danger there. "You know why."
"Because of what I know."
He nods. "Exactly."
I lean forward, resting my chin on my hand. "Honestly...I'm not even sure exactly what I know," I murmur.
"I would love to help you with that."
