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My head was spinning. If what he was saying was true, why was I still sitting here? Why wasn’t I gesturing to one of others to chuck him out?
I turned my head so I could look him full in the face. Did I really believe what he was telling me?
Or was there something deeper going on with him? Something from his past that made him feel this way?
When I opened my mouth, none of those questions came out. “Would you hurt me?”
Chapter 3
Sebastian
It took every century of my experience to keep my expression impassive as Matty’s words unlocked image after image.
Him whining beneath me.
My fangs in his throat.
Licking blood from his inner thigh.
Matty was watching me closely, his wide brown eyes hiding nothing. I could tell the little human wanted me. Perhaps even believed we might have some magical future ahead.
That wasn’t happening. I’d meant it when I’d told him to run from me.
Because it was clear as fucking day that I couldn’t keep away from him.
“I’d like to think I wouldn’t.”
Matty hummed, draining his drink before standing up. “You know, I think that’s the first honest thing you’ve said to me.”
My lips twitched again. Fuckers kept trying to betray me. I knew if I let them loose, they wouldn’t smirk at Matty.
No, the traitors wanted to smile. To return his joy. To bask in his sunlight.
I wasn’t allowing it.
Matty stepped closer and I automatically widened my legs to accommodate him. As soon as he was in my sphere, the chaos in me calmed. My sunshine was within reach.
Safe.
The thought chilled me to the bone. I wasn’t safe. I was literally an assassin who murdered for money…and often for sport.
He leaned in, so close I could smell his blood in his veins. It was hot and sweet. My mouth watered at the thought of tasting him. “I don’t think you’re as bad as you say you are. My gut tells me you’re good, Seb.”
I balked, the nickname too familiar. Too close.
My hand snapped up to fist his shirt. “Your gut is not to be trusted, Matty. One of these days, it’s going to get you in trouble. Men like me take advantage of naive souls like you.”
Matty stiffened. Finally. My words were sinking in.
But then he pulled back.
And I saw his face.
That wasn’t the confused expression I’d been expecting. Or the bemused one. Or even a pissed off one.
No, Matty looked haunted. Afraid. Weary.
It was like someone had poured concrete into my veins. My dead heart, the organ that hadn’t felt anything in centuries, began to ache in my chest.
