25. Sina
A faint light glowed at the edge of the kitchen. Not bright. Just enough to outline the doorway and spill a soft golden stripe across the floor. I froze. Okay . So I wasn’t the only one awake.
“Come in here, Sina,” Nik’s voice drifted over the threshold.
I crossed my arms over my chest, the vulnerability from earlier still clinging to me, making me hesitate to be around anyone right now. Especially not Nikolai. I just wanted a drink and not to be asked any probing questions.
I hovered at the edge of the hallway, just out of sight of the kitchen, chewing my lip as I debated. I could go back upstairs. Pretend I never came down. But my throat burned with thirst.
I shifted my weight back toward the stairs.
“I promise I won’t bite… unless you ask me to.” His low chuckle followed, like he was just teasing.
I rolled my eyes, but a strange shiver still slipped down my spine, something in his tone landing deeper than it should have. I blew out a breath and took a tentative step into the kitchen.
Nik sat alone at the bartop, a glass loose in his hand. The overhead lights were off, but a small light near the sink cast a low amber glow that slid across the counters and caught on the sharp lines of his shoulders… He wasn’t wearing a shirt. My brain short-circuited for half a second.
Shadows pooled along his collarbones and down the ridges of his stomach, the light tracing every line before fading into darkness. Unlike his brother, Nikolai was tattoo free. Nothing but smooth tan skin for my eyes to devour.
He watched me from across the room, one brow slightly raised.
I froze in the archway, suddenly very aware of how naked I was too. Yeah . I probably looked like a mouse scurrying around his house in the middle of the night. I shook my head at the choice of words. I wouldn’t let myself think about Keith right now.
Nik sighed softly, setting his glass down. He didn’t comment on my awkward hovering, just stood and moved toward the cabinets with quiet purpose.
I tried not to stare. But I failed .
Basketball shorts hung low on his narrow hips, the fabric worn and soft, the waistband dipping just enough to make my mouth go dry for a completely different reason than the wine.
His back flexed as he reached into the cabinet for something on the top shelf, muscles shifting under smooth skin in a way that made heat crawl up my neck.
I snapped my eyes away, pretending to study the floor.
He set a small tray on the counter, then moved to the fridge and pulled out a gallon of milk. After that, he reached into the cabinet above the sink for a mug. The simple, domestic normalcy of it grounded something fluttery in my chest.
“Cookie?”
I blinked. “Sure.”
He poured milk into a mug and slid it toward me across the counter. His fingers brushed mine for just a second when I took it, cool against my skin. His touch lingered long after he pulled away. I ignored the sensation and grabbed a chocolate chip cookie from the tray, taking a bite.
“Nik, these are delicious,” I complimented around a mouthful.
“If you really wanted to show your appreciation, Sina… you’d call me sir. Like I’ve asked you to. Repeatedly .”
A slow smirk touched his mouth.
“ Oh my God ,” I muttered around another mouth full of chocolate. “You’re not still on that call me sir bullshit, are you? I thought we might be past that. ”
One brow lifted above the rim of his glasses in challenge. “You’ve never actually tried. And since you like being a brat so damn much, maybe I should show you exactly how I like to punish mine .”
I choked on the cookie, coughing as I tried to process what the fuck he just said. There was so much to unpack in that sentence I wasn’t sure what to focus on first. And the way he called me his did something weird to my brain. For the first time, the possessiveness was turning me on.
Just like everything this man did.
Nik nudged the mug closer, clearly amused by my response and I took a quick sip to wash it down.
The image hit me out of nowhere—those big hands grabbing my ass and lifting me onto the counter.
My cheeks heated and my core throbbed. I pushed my thighs together.
Damn . I was only wearing a shirt and panties.
There wasn’t much stopping him from rounding the island and fulfilling that little fantasy.
“Is that a threat, Nik… or a promise ?”
His nostrils flared and I smirked at the reaction he tried to hide. I’d said his name again on purpose .
“You really don’t know when to stop, do you?”
My stomach flipped at the deep growl in his voice. Fuck me, it was sexy as hell. And I couldn’t fight back the shiver of excitement that zipped down my spine.
Did he know where my thoughts had gone? Was he going to do exactly that if I kept pushing him?
I suddenly wanted to find out.
“ Nope .” I shrugged. “But I think you like that about me.”
Something dark flickered in his eyes. “You have no idea what you’re playing with.”
“There you go again. Mixing a threat with a promise,” I quipped .
Didn’t he know by now that I made spectacularly stupid decisions?
All he was doing was making me want to push him harder.
Nik hummed softly, like he didn’t entirely disagree, and lifted his glass. That’s when I noticed the color. Dark. Too dark to be soda. Too thick to be wine.
I watched without meaning to, as he took a slow sip, his throat moving as he swallowed.
The low light caught the rim of the glass, turning the liquid inside a deep, almost black red.
He lowered the glass, and a faint stain marked his lower lip.
His tongue swept across his mouth, slow and unhurried, wiping it clean.
The movement made my stomach flip with lust again.
My pulse skipped.
Was that blood? Why would he be drinking blood? What the fuck?
My brain tried to shove the thought away, scrambling for something else—wine, juice, some weird health drink—but the truth sat there between us, dark and obvious, and suddenly everything else crashed in behind it.
The small, teasing smile I’d been holding onto slipped right off my face. I reached for another cookie just to give my hands something to do.
There had been signs.
And I’d stupidly ignored them, like I always did, and now I was standing here unprotected in front of a predator. My knife was upstairs. I was defenseless, wearing nothing but an oversized shirt in the middle of a storm… on an island.
Fuck.
My mind tumbled downhill at an alarming speed, red flags snapping one by one.
The way Danielle had just forgotten things, like someone had reached into her mind and smoothed over the edges.
Tim’s palpable fear after talking to Nik on the phone.
Kiron nearly lost control and turned on his own friends.
Why did none of those things scare me?
The question hollowed me out.
Because they should have. Any sane person would have run the first time something didn’t add up. I kept telling myself it was fine. But it wasn’t fucking fine. My pulse skyrocketed, loud and frantic in my ears, like my body was screaming the truth even if my brain still wanted to hide from it.
Vampire.
The word surfaced, cold and impossible. No , that was insane. I flinched. Oh, my God . Can he hear how frantic my heart is?
Fuck . I’m pretty sure he can.
What the hell was I supposed to do now?