29 BLOOD CONFESSIONS
“SOUNDS OMINOUS,” DARACH replied, glancing her way.
Her throat tightened as she slid her hand from beneath his.
“Go on then,” he murmured, his gaze searching her face. “I won’t judge.”
“You might have noticed,” she began huskily, “that I enjoy fighting … and killing.”
He gave a slow nod, his expression difficult to read.
Ailsa swallowed. “Aye, well, it’s worse than that. I also have thoughts … about blood.”
He inclined his head at that, yet didn’t comment, giving her space to elaborate.
“When I killed that outlaw in Ardroth … I watched him bleed out and felt an … insatiable hunger.” She broke off there. Gods. The truth sounded so much worse spoken out loud.
Fern was right; she was a predator … but then, so was he.
Darach didn’t reply immediately. However, the furrow between his brows gave him away.
Ailsa’s body stiffened. Here, it begins.
Was he about to shove himself away from her, to draw his blade and ward her off?
Heartbeats slid by though, and he didn’t. “And do you ever have the urge to tear my throat open too?” he asked, breaking the weighty silence.
Ailsa’s gaze dropped to his throat. She wanted to lie, but she couldn’t. “Aye … sometimes, I watch your pulse … here” —without thinking, she reached out and traced a pointed fingernail beneath his jawbone, skirting the edge of his windpipe— “and imagine what your blood tastes like.”
His breath hitched. He stilled under her touch, yet to her surprise didn’t yank away.
His nearness, the scent of leather and fresh sweat, and the underlying metallic tang of blood made her pulse skip. Saliva filled her mouth, and she swallowed once more. Hard.
“And now?” His voice was strained.
“I can smell your blood … I can hear the thud of your heart. It calls to me.” Her pulse lurched. What had she just admitted? “I’m sorry,” she gasped. “It’s … awful.”
She drew her hand sharply back, but his fingers wrapped around her wrist, stopping her.
“Is that any worse than me turning into a clag-doo and nearly ripping you apart?” he asked gently. “When you were up that pine, I could smell you. All I wanted was to tear my fangs into your flesh.”
“But you know the reason. It wasn’t really you … but these thoughts … I have no idea where they come from.”
Their gaze drew out.
His nearness was making her lightheaded, as was the fact he was remaining seated this close to her, even after her admission. She hadn’t expected him to take this so well.
“We’ll find out why,” he replied, a crease furrowing between his eyebrows.
She gave a bitter laugh. “How?”
His fingers flexed on her wrist. “Does Kayla know about these … urges … of yours?”
She shook her head. “The bloodlust has been a recent change.” She paused then. “A couple of months ago, I started having spikes of rage … but I didn’t talk to her about them. I hoped they’d go away.”
“Well … when we find your mentor, you two need to have an honest talk.”
“You think she has the answers?”
“I think she’s been keeping things back from you.”
Ailsa stilled. “Why would she do that?”
His tawny gaze seared hers. “To protect you, maybe … who knows.”
Sickliness washed over her. “What if the truth is terrible?”
His lips quirked. “It might be … but not knowing is worse, believe me.”
“But—”
“You’re strong, Ailsa. You’ll handle whatever Kayla tells you.”
She sucked in a deep breath. “The bloodlust scares me. At Gateway, I had a dream … about you.”
He inclined his head, his eyes hooding. “Aye?”
“Aye.” Suddenly, it was difficult to breathe. “We were …” Her voice trailed off then, her cheeks growing hot.
“We were what?”
Her gaze slid down to his delicious throat once more, to where his blood pumped beneath his skin, thick and warm. “We were … together … and then I” —she hesitated, mortification flushing through her— “I drank from you.”
His eyes narrowed slightly, and for an instant, she could have sworn he was imagining such a scene. “Interesting.”
“Disgusting, more like,” she choked out, even as a shudder went through her. “I’m disgusting.” Tears pricked at her eyelids.
“No.” To her shock, he lifted his free hand and slid his fingertips along her cheek. “You’re not. It was just a dream. And you haven’t acted on it, have you?”
She shook her head, searching his face for revulsion.
It should have been there.
It wasn’t—and that unsettled her even more.
Dizziness slammed into her. She tried to draw away, but his firm grip on her wrist held fast. He wasn’t letting go. Gods. The feel of his fingertips tracing her skin. It took all her will not to lean into him.
Darach’s expression grew intense then. It was impossible to look away. “I can’t get that kiss in Ardroth out of my head,” he admitted roughly. “And ever since, I’ve wanted more.”
She stilled at this admission, yet he shocked her again by tracing the pad of his thumb over her lower lip then, gently teasing. “I’ve thought about this mouth … far more than I should.”
Her pulse stuttered. “You have?”
“Aye.”
His face was just inches from hers now, so close his breath feathered across her cheek.
They stared at each other for a long moment, and then he leaned in, his lips brushing across hers.
Ailsa stopped breathing altogether.
Darach’s free hand slid behind her neck, anchoring there as his lips teased hers, the pressure featherlight one moment, and insistent the next.
His grip tightened suddenly—too tight.
The beast was stirring, responding to lust.
A hungry sound tore from her throat as she tilted her head back and parted her lips for him.
Groaning, he took her invitation, the tip of his tongue tracing her lower lip before it slid into her mouth.
And then, he was kissing her hungrily.
His other hand still gripped her wrist, and so Ailsa brought up her free hand, splaying her fingers across his chest. Even through his leather vest, she could feel the heat of his body. He was a furnace on this cold night. How she wanted to crawl onto his lap, to wrap herself around him.
He held her fast, his mouth devouring hers. And she explored him too, thrilling at the deep groan that rumbled in his chest when she thrust her tongue deep.
Eventually, when they drew apart, both their breathing was ragged.
The tender flesh between her thighs ached to be touched; need pounded through her, so intense that she felt sick with it.
The hunger in Darach’s eyes almost undid her. The world seemed to have narrowed. She was keenly aware of both their ragged breathing and the heat of his body. Her fingertips tingled.
Gods, he was delicious.
“It’s late,” he said then, his voice strained now. “We should get some rest.”
He was right. They were both exhausted, and the night was drawing out. They’d rise with the dawn, as usual, to go after Kayla.
However, the urge to ask more of him thundered through her, and she gave in to it.
“Aye, we should,” she whispered, even as her belly tightened. “But I don’t want to.”
He gave her a smoldering look that made her pulse leap once more like a bounding hare.
She held his gaze. “Who knows what the next few days will bring?”
“We will rescue Kayla.” His eyes glinted then. “I gave you my word, and I’ll fucking honor it.”
Pressure rose under her breastbone. She believed him. “And when we do, the task I hired you for will be complete. Tonight might be one of the last we spend together … alone.” She dragged in a deep breath before adding, “I don’t want to waste it on sleep.”
Silence followed her admission, drawing out before his thumb skimmed across her lips once more. He was staring at her mouth again, his breathing fast and shallow. “We shouldn’t.”
“Maybe not,” she breathed. “But I don’t care.”
Strangely, she wasn’t afraid of rejection. Her humiliation at Harvest Fire seemed to belong to someone else. The attraction she’d felt for Lewis paled compared to this. Kayla had told her to trust her gut, and she would.
“Have you done this before?” His voice held a rasp.
She shook her head. “Does it matter?”
“I’ve never taken a virgin … I’m not sure I’m the right choice for—”
“You are,” she cut him off. Their gazes locked then. “I won’t break.”
His pupils dilated, his irises turning from honey brown to bright gold. Aye, the clag-doo was in there, and it had just responded again. It should have alarmed Ailsa—especially after seeing him shift earlier—yet a delicious shiver rippled through her instead.
And then, before she had time to say anything else, he hauled her onto his lap. Pulling her head down, he kissed her savagely.
Darach’s response was so swift and fierce that it caught her by surprise, but she didn’t flinch, didn’t cry out. Instead, she kissed him back with the same ferocity. Their teeth clashed, their tongues dueled. His mouth was hot, and he tasted faintly of smoke and the trout they’d eaten earlier.
His body was hard and strong against her, and when his hands slid possessively down the curve of her back and grasped her arse, she groaned.
He growled back.
His mouth plundered hers now. Blood roared in her ears. Need clenched hard between her thighs. She wanted him so much.
As the kiss continued, it became hard to tell where want ended and something darker began.
Carelessly, she hurled herself into the abyss.
Reaching out, she fumbled with the laces on his leather vest.
“It’s cold,” he murmured against her lips. “Are you sure you want to do this naked?”
“Aye.” She bit his lower lip, nearly groaning at the metallic taste of his blood. Just a drop and she was ravenous. “I have to see you.”
His breathing caught, and then his eyes glinted bright gold. “Right.”
Extricating himself from her, he reached for more wood, piling it onto the fire pit. And as the flames licked at the darkness, heat caressing Ailsa’s face, she watched him make a nest for them using their cloaks.
He heeled off his boots then, removed his vest and tunic, and began to slowly unlace his breeches.
All the while, his gaze never left her face.
And then, he gave her a slow smile and beckoned to her.