Chapter 14 #2
Pausing, she tilts her head as though listening to something.
“They say that you remind them of . . .” Her lips purse.
“Flowers? Lavender, to be precise. With a hint of honey.” Turning toward the plants, she shakes her head.
“Honestly, you guys wouldn’t be able to identify a sprig of lavender if it grew from the same pot as yours. Ignore them.”
I don’t hear anything other than Gemma’s breathing. “What do they sound like? The plants.”
“You can’t hear them?” Gemma clicks her tongue.
“Pity. They like you. They keep trying to compliment your . . .” She squints into the distance.
“I don’t know that word, sorry. Try again.
” After moment, she shakes her head. “They sound like chirping birds, honestly, but like . . . if you knew the language. What do shifters sound like when they’re in animal form? ”
I’ve never thought about it, but I also haven’t tried talking to many shifters while in wolf form.
“Um, like . . . normal?” Wincing, I try to articulate that better.
“It’s more about a feeling that comes from gestures, like shaking your head or stomping your foot.
You have to be able to read body language.
A flick of an ear, a shrill overtone ringing on top of a howl, the way a wolf’s hair might stand on end, but only in certain places or a specific order—” I can tell that I’m losing her, so I stop while I’m ahead.
Biting the inside of my cheek, I fight back a smile.
“As kids, you run around with the other shifters in your pack, and you pick up the language pretty quickly. Other mammals are the easiest to understand since I’m a wolf, but reptiles?
They’re the hardest. Birds are okay so long as they don’t move their wings too fast, and fish are pretty impossible too now that I think about it . . .”
Gemma sips her drink, her cheeks turning rosy. “I didn’t realize packs had so many different shifter types in them.”
Shit. I’ve said too much. “It’s not common, but some packs intermingle if it helps with survival.”
Not that intermingling helped my family much . . .
“Is Revyn from your pack? Like your betrothed or something?”
I pour a cup full and chug the entire thing before answering. “No. We met later.”
When I don’t elaborate, Gemma sighs and flops down onto her back. “Could have fooled me. You two seem like you’ve known each other forever, so I assumed . . .” She glances at my face. “Sorry, I know it’s a sore subject. I shouldn’t pry.”
Wincing, I set down the half-empty canister on the floor before rolling onto my back beside Gemma.
“No, it’s okay. I’ve never talked with anyone about him before, so I guess I .
. . don’t know what to say.” I lace my hands over my stomach and stare at the faint glow of the ceiling. “He found me when I was—”
How to sugarcoat an assassination attempt?
“—attacked by another shifter. A wolf, like me, only I wasn’t able to shift at the time. Revyn helped me learn control. He taught me a lot of things about being a wolf, actually.”
Like how to snap someone’s neck in one hard bite.
I leave that part out of my story.
“He’s saved my life more times than I can count.
I owe him a debt I can never repay.” No matter how many times I’ve saved his ass over the years, it will never equal the life he’s given me.
I was alone and afraid after my pack was slaughtered, and he took me in without a single hesitation.
Even when I told him my name and which pack I’d come from, he didn’t care.
You’re like me, Sienna.
Free.
My chest aches, and I rub the spot gingerly. There’s only one thing he’s ever asked of me, and it’s the one thing I can never give.
“Why don’t you mate with him? Officially, I mean.” Gemma stares at the cloth wrap around my neck, like there’s more to her question. “He obviously likes you.”
“That’s an understatement,” I huff. He doesn’t just like me—he loves me. “It’s complicated.”
Gemma hands me her drink before grabbing mine from the floor. Refilling our cups, she clinks hers against mine and smirks. “Bottoms up, buttercup. I want to know everything. Including his dick size. I didn’t have a front row seat to your spat last night, but the girls tell me that he is hung.”
I laugh out loud, the sound spilling past my chest and making me dizzy. “We’ll need more alcohol if we’re gonna go that deep into my problems.”
“Dick size isn’t a problem,” Gemma snorts, downing her cup before setting it on the nightstand.
“But fine. Let’s get more booze before we can’t walk straight.
” Taking my hand, she sits me up and pulls me to the door.
Neither of us have shoes, but neither of us seem to care as we push into the hallway, Gemma’s giggles echoing off the walls.
“C’mon, I know where we can get the good stuff without going all the way back to the vamp bar.
” She pads barefoot across the carpet, giggling even more when she kicks up the corners of not one, not two, but three rugs on her way to the adjoining courtyard.
Beautiful, flowering vines curl around the columned arches displaying the courtyard in full moonlight, the snow falling from the skies above gently evaporating before its flakes touch the grass.
The blades are soft under my feet as we step across the threshold and into the dappled light.
Trees sway as Gemma walks beneath their bows, as though greeting her warmly.
I smile at the sentiment and brush my fingertips over a prickly bush.
It cuts through my skin, and I hiss at the sudden slice of pain.
Blood drips down the edge of my hand and catches on my wrist. Fuck.
How many times am I going to bleed in one day?
“Gemma, do you have any ointment—”
Glancing up, I find the walkway empty where she stood moments ago. “Gemma?”
Something tugs inside my chest, like a thread being pulled.
I follow its pull to a different side of the courtyard and stumble up a short flight of stairs to a moonlit landing, this one covered in snow.
The mountain we ran up last night looms in the distance, its path lost among the sheet of white and the bonfire at its base long since extinguished.
A figure is bent so far over the railing that at first, I think they’re throwing up the same drink Thorn mixed for us. “That shit’s strong,” I say without thinking, shuffling closer to the drunk person. “He really shouldn’t put so much in it—”
Their head snaps in my direction, their nostrils flaring as their gaze narrows on my hand . . . and the blood dripping down my forearm. Oh. Shit. I don’t know this person. And I definitely don’t like how they’re licking their lips.
Fangs protrude from their mouth as they smile warmly at me, but it doesn’t reach their eyes—bright red but flat and unappealing.
“Hello, wild wolf.” Turning on his heel, he straightens to his full height and takes a calculated step forward.
“You look a little lost. Need help finding your way home?” His gaze catches on the cloth around my neck, and the corners of his mouth tighten.
“You haven’t been claimed, have you?” He sniffs the air, the gesture as vulgar as it feels.
“Doesn’t smell like it. I’m surprised that Callum got that close and didn’t have a taste.
Then again, the bastard’s fucking ancient.
I bet he doesn’t remember how to wet his throat properly.
” His scratchy laugh fades in the cold breeze.
“Show me your throat, girl, and I’ll make sure you get home before sunrise. ”
“Fuck you,” I growl, clutching the nearest wall for balance. My claws lengthen, but not to their fullest. Shit. What the hell did Thorn put in that drink? “Get any closer, and I’ll kill you.”
“Can’t kill students,” the vampire laughs, tossing his greasy bangs from his face. “A pity they implemented that rule. I hear that a few years ago, you could kill anyone you wanted, and no one would bat an eye. Less competition that way.”
And an even smaller population than before. It’s no wonder they added a killing ban after how rapidly the world’s gone to shit since the rot appeared in the wilds.
The eerie scrape of claws on stone sends a shiver down my spine, and that thread inside my chest tugs even harder.
I turn my head to find golden eyes glowing from the shadows.
“There are worse things than death,” Alistair says calmly, stepping onto the landing in casual attire.
A black, loose-fitting shirt and matching slacks.
Bare feet, like mine. Hair tousled like he’s been tossing and turning in his sleep.
Claws that are fully extended, unlike mine.
I frown as I shake out my hands, but that doesn’t fix the problem.
The vampire’s smile freezes on his face as he looks between the two of us. “Is this why the wild wolf’s throwing a fit? Because he’s been outmaneuvered by a spoiled brat?” He focuses on me. “I’d pick the wild one if I were you. This one’s—” He clicks his tongue. “No good.”
Alistair exhales heavily. “Leave, vamp, before you piss me off more than you already have.”
“You can’t make me—”
In three long strides, he grabs the vampire by the throat and tosses him over the railing, Alistair’s entire body tensing as he waits to hear the crack from the fall.
Something like that won’t kill a vampire, but it will sure hurt in the morning.
Silence stretches between us, and I clutch my injured hand tightly to my chest.
“I can handle myself.”
Flinching at the sound of my voice, Alistair takes a deep breath. “Oh, really?”
“Yes,” I grumble, suddenly irritated. “Of course.”
Pushing himself off the railing, he spins around and closes the distance between us in a single heartbeat. “Then explain this.” Grabbing my hand, he holds my claws up between us. They’re sharp, but not nearly as long as they should be. Painful if I used them against someone, but not deadly.
It’s embarrassing.
I try to tug my hand free, but he won’t let go. My blood slicks his skin, and his nostrils flare as he stares at the cut on my fingertips.
His voice cracks like ice. “You baited a vampire?”
“Not on purpose!” My cheeks flush with heat. Gods, I should not be having this conversation with anyone, let alone Alistair fucking Dire. “I’m just a little—”
“Drunk,” he finishes for me, his eyes narrowing on my lips.
“You’re drunk, barefoot, and bleeding in a castle full of—” Cursing under his breath, he drops my hand and begins to pace a few feet away.
“If I knew you were this reckless, I would have never—I can’t fucking believe—” He cuts himself off with a growl. “You’re unbelievable!”
“Me?” I gape at him. “You’re the one who was standing outside my window last night! What the hell were you doing, Dire? Jerking off like some creep?”
A vein in his neck pulses. “I was not—” Closing his eyes, he grinds his jaw. “Fuck, this is ridiculous.”
“Says the guy stalking me!” I jab my finger at him. “What are you even doing out here?”
His glares at my bleeding finger. “Saving you from yourself, apparently.” Running a hand down his face, he takes a breath. “Get back to your room, Wildfire, and lock the door.”
Scoffing, I cross my arms over my chest. “I’m not in my room tonight, asshole. You can’t tell me what to do.”
“You’re not in your room?” he repeats slowly, like he didn’t hear me the first time.
I roll my eyes. “I’m leaving. Goodbye.”
He storms after me, likely waking every damn student on this floor. “Where are you going?”
“Away from you!”
Grabbing my arm, he forces me to stop. “Whose room?” he snarls, his eyes flashing like liquid gold. “Who the fuck are you sleeping with now?”
Anger burns through my veins. “Excuse me?”
“Who—the fuck—are you—sleeping with?”
“No one!” I dig my tiny claws into his chest, tearing through his shirt and drawing blood. “Not that it’s any of your business who I sleep with!”
“It is my business!” he snaps, baring his teeth. “Gods, you are insufferable!”
“You’re a fucking dick!” I flick my gaze to his crotch and laugh mockingly. “I bet you don’t even have one, is that it? You’re such an asshole so that no one has to know how tiny your dick is, Dire.”
Inhaling sharply, he shoves me against the warm stone wall and presses his full body onto mine.
Every.
Single.
Inch.
“Does this feel small, Sienna?”
Oh, gods.
“N-no,” I stammer, biting my bottom lip. Why are my knees shaking? It’s the alcohol, right? It has to be the alcohol.
Because there’s no way in this hellish realm that I’m turned on right now.
His lips curve into a twisted smirk. “That’s what I thought.
” Pinning my arm beside my head, he pants into the curve of my neck.
He stiffens for a split second before his free hand slices through the makeshift bandage Callum made from his shirt, the bloodied fabric pulling at my skin as Alistair tears it away.
With a growl, he tilts my head to the side.
“Hold fucking still,” he rumbles, his entire body trembling.
And then his lips are on my neck, kissing the aching flesh that Revyn tore into last night.
Heat ignites beneath my skin, and a moan spills past my lips.
Alistair licks and kisses my skin so gently that if he weren’t pressed so tightly to my body, I’d think I was dreaming.
His scent—unlike anything I’ve ever known—fills my lungs until I choke, the sound catching in my throat as he presses one final, open-mouthed kiss to my neck.
Then he backs off, letting my knees buckle. I hit the ground so suddenly that I cry out and flinch from the echo.
His eyes burn brighter than the sun as he stares at me, the wounds on his chest closing without leaving a single scar. “Go to your room,” he murmurs, his voice thick with emotion. “And do not open the door for anyone. Not Revyn, not Gemma, not anyone. Do you understand me?”
The sudden cold from his absence makes me shiver. “No,” I answer honestly, forcing myself to my feet. “I do not fucking understand.”
A flash of regret crosses his face—so sharp that it takes my breath away—as he backs away. Stepping into the shadows, he hides from me.
But nothing will take away the razor-sharp, insistent tug inside my chest—around my heart—that I suddenly realize is because of him.
Like we’re somehow tied to each other.
“Who are you?” I whisper, knowing that he can hear me. Sensing his presence like my own fluttering heartbeat. Tasting his scent on my tongue.
When he doesn’t answer me, I pick myself up off the floor, wipe the blood from my arm on my shirt, and pick up Callum’s bandage like I can erase what just happened from the sands of time.
My heart aches twice as much as it did an hour ago . . . and I don’t fucking understand what Alistair Dire has to do with it.
Any of it.
My fallout with Revyn.
The bone-deep hurt in my lungs.
Or the wildfire desire burning through my body.