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Saint swallowed. His gaze flicked up. “I’m fucking him, so you can stay here and get busy with your hand, join us, or leave.”
There was a whole lot of wrong with those suggestions. All of them in fact. Octavius spluttered and gave a shrill laugh. “You really must be insane to think I’d stoop so low as to join you.” He scrambled off the bed, tore off the towel, flung it down, and tugged on his damp pants. There had been a few moments in between losing the towel and thrusting on his pants that he’d felt Saint’s eyes on him—all over him, in fact—and that had made this alien lustworse. As though he wanted Saint’s gaze on his naked skin.
“Stoop for me, Little Wolf, and I’ll gladly fuck you—”
Octavius flew at him and must have caught him unawares because he managed to slam Saint to the wall. Saint spread his hands, playing at surrender, when they both knew he could throw Octavius around like a doll.
They stayed like that, Octavius holding Saint pinned. He wanted to say something lashing, something sharp, but the words wouldn’t come. Probably because he was still fucking hard, and now he had Saint up close, Saint couldn’t fail to feel how hard he was, since Octavius’s dick was pressed between them.
Saint’s lips drew into a devilish smirk and Octavius despised him even more than he had before. Despised him andwantedhim. That had to be the bloodlust, the hunger, and that vicious, ancient part of him he kept under control because Octavius wouldneverwillingly desire a nyk.
“I’m leaving,” Octavius snapped. He pushed off and stormed from the room, but not before hearing Jayden ask if thelittle wolfwas joining them.
Oh, Octavius would be joining them later. Right after he’d made a phone call.
CHAPTER7
Octavius
Janice didn’t batan eye as he burst into the motel lobby and grabbed the phone. Thanks to his earlier intervention, she wouldn’t remember he was here, or anything he’d say on the call. He dialed Raiden’s cell.
Damn it, his cock was still half hard and the rest of him flustered. He wasn’t in any fit state to call Raiden.
He slammed the receiver down.
He couldn’t call him while he was worked up. Damn Saint!
And Jayden was back there with him, the both of them probably fucking like rabbits. He slumped against the desk and thrust his hands into his damp hair. What was it about the pair of them that got into his head? None of this should be this difficult. He just had to kill or capture Saint. And he needed help to do that. Those were the facts of the mission.
Gods, he was ravenous.
Hunger, that’s why this mission had become challenging. Heneededblood or all of the urges he was keeping shut away would begin to escape.
Janice pulled her wheeled chair to the desk and tapped away on her computer. Octavius peered over her shoulder. She was replying to a post on Facebook, something about cats and tuxedos. Her perfume wafted, that and the smell of humans—a musky odor, sweet yet salty. He turned his head and there was the pulse thumping in her neck, calling to him like a siren song. She wouldn’t even know if he took a bite. Nobody would know.
He'd know.
The fact he was even contemplating it revealed how far he’d fallen, and being around Saint was making that primal part of him hungrier, more dominant.
Like Saint was dominant.
“Fuck.” He had to get the nyk and his stupid feeder out of his head, but while he was hungry, those desires were only going to get worse. If he was going to call the Brotherhood, call in help, he needed to feed. He needed to get his shit together. He couldn’t feed from Jayden, not with Saint there; the two of them fucked with his head too much.
That left Janice.
He studied her face. She wasn’t all that old, in human years. He could make it good for her, make it so she dreamed good things and woke up as though she’d had the best sex in her entire life.
It was still wrong. Drinking from the vein was off-limits, but the others had—Zaine had, Kazimir had—all in the name of the mission.
This was for the greater good. He had to do this, to stop Saint. This was Saint’s fault.
Octavius’s fangs extended. Two pairs, one pair to open the vein, one to deliver venom. Once his venom hit her heart, she’d be lost to his thrall. One bite wouldn’t turn her into a permanently addicted feeder. One bite was nothing.
Just a sample. Just enough to keep him going.
One bite was all he needed.
CHAPTER8
