Chapter 28
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Adeline
Waking up with a jolt, I look around before my eyes fall on a man sitting in an armchair across from me.
“Cyrus, your little pet has awoken,” the man says, and I growl at him.
Where the fuck am I? My throat is burning, and I am ravenous.
“Ah, Cyrus, your little pet looks like she is going to eat me.”
“I am not a pet. Who are you, and where am I?” I ask, annoyed.
There is something off about this man. He smells funny, not bad, but funny; he smells like burning firewood.
“Don’t know about firewood, but you keep looking at me like that, you’re going give me wood,” he says, adjusting the front of his pants.
I hear footsteps and look toward the hall before smelling something intoxicatingly good.
My vision tinges red, and my eyes snap back to the man sitting across from me.
He has no shirt and only has a pair of jeans on.
His long hair is sitting over one of his shoulders before I realize what the smell is; he smiles deviously, his eyes flickering black, even the sclera.
I watch his blood trickle down his chest where he has sliced it open near his collarbone, and I can’t tear my eyes away from it.
He runs his fingers through his blood, smearing it on his chest before running his index finger down his chest and then popping his finger in his mouth.
“Want some?” he purrs, his eyes flickering oddly, and I lick my lips, my hands digging into the leather couch as sweat runs down the back of my neck.
He suddenly get up, walking over to me. My heart is pounding in my chest, and I don’t even remember moving when I am suddenly in front of him.
“Want something, pet?” he asks, his hand coated in his blood, reaching toward my face.
A growl leaves my throat, pushing past my lips, and I attack him, lunging at him when arms wrap around my chest, pulling me back, Cyrus’s scent wafting to me. All I can think about is his blood.
“Latham, what the fuck?” Cyrus snaps at him, but the man just chuckles darkly.
“Just playing with my new toy, Cyrus, settle down,” I hear him say, but I am wild, crazed, and want his blood.
I feel my eyes roll into my head as Cyrus turns me to face him.
Cyrus’s scent is intoxicating, and I am on the verge of tearing into anything.
I can hear his blood pumping through his veins, hear the beating of his heart.
I need blood; I can hear Cyrus arguing with whoever that is, yet I can’t get Cyrus’s scent from my nose as he clutches onto me.
I inhale his delicious scent, pressing my face into his neck when he jumps and hisses, yet I can’t let go of him, and he doesn’t let me go either.
So many scents are filling this place, and it is driving me mad.
I barely feel my fangs slip from my gums before I sink them into his neck. His blood floods into my mouth, so sickly sweet and addictive. A moan escapes my lips, and I can’t stop; I also don’t want to. I sink my fangs into him again, needing more.
* * *
Eli
“Addie, no! Stop!” I hear Cyrus say through the door.
I throw the door open to find Cyrus pinned to the ground underneath her, Latham trying to pull her off, also covered in blood. I look for our son to find him nowhere, meaning Cyrus must have put him down for a nap.
“Fuck! Eli, help! She is going to drain him,” Latham says, his strength no match for her while she is crazed. I knew it.
I bloody knew she would snap. They always do, but she must have caught Cyrus off guard.
I rush over, trying to pull her off. Her nails have torn through his shirt, tearing it to shreds, and blood coats her face when she sinks her teeth into him again.
I feel the bond flicker and realize she has just marked him, but she is too blood-crazed even to notice as I feel the bond lock in place, stronger than ever.
Well, that is one way to mark him.
Cyrus manages to roll over when she shoves him back down.
If she wasn’t crazed, I would think it rather hot the way she is manhandling him.
I grip her waist, tugging her back. Fuck, she is strong now.
It takes both Latham and myself to get her off him.
Only for her to spin and turn on Latham.
She growls, lunging at him, her fangs sinking into his chest, which is already covered in blood.
Cyrus gets up, shaking himself before grabbing her, pressing her back against his chest, and locking his arms around her.
“You did it. Now, fix it, you prick,” Cyrus snaps at Latham, who starts laughing.
“My bad, wanted to see what she was made of.”
Addie struggles against him, and I glare at Latham, wondering what he did that made her like this when he grabs her face, his eyes flickering black, and she moans.
“Not like that,” I tell him, not liking him using his lust tricks on her.
“Fine,” he says, smirking, his hands shimmering as he clutches her face. Her eyes get a far-away look in them before he lets her go. She looks dazed for a second and shakes her head.
“What happened?” she says softly. I can feel her confusion, see it clearly in her eyes, too.
“Nearly turned into a blood orgy in here,” Latham laughs, and I shoot him a look.
“She is off-limits, Latham.”
“Are you and Cyrus off-limits, though?” he asks, and Addie growls at him.
She clearly has no idea what he is, but her instincts are telling her something is off about Latham.
“Latham, enough. Once more, and we’ll find somewhere else to stay,” I tell him.
“Fine, fine…” he says, turning to Addie and holding his hand out to her. “I am Latham, head of the supernatural council, and this is my home.”
She eyes his hand warily, like it would bite her. She isn’t wrong; Latham would love to sink his demonic teeth into her. I can see the curiosity behind his eyes; he wants to taste her, fuck her, own her, but she is off-limits.
“Adeline,” she says but doesn’t take his hand, instead just looks away from him.
“Oh, and an attitude, I bet you’re fun. I can be fun, Addie. We should play together,” Latham says, his eyes flickering, but now she has her control back, she does not like how he is talking to her.
I smile; maybe he won’t be able to take her from us, after all. She seems to see straight through him and his little tricks.
“I’ll pass, thanks. Now, where is my son?” she asks, turning to look at me.
Cyrus kisses her cheek, and she looks at him before a horrified expression crosses her face when she sees he is covered in blood. I see her take a breath, not letting it out as she holds it, tears burning her eyes as she realizes she has attacked him.
“I am fine, Addie. It’s okay, and it wasn’t your fault. Blame Latham,” Cyrus tells her, yet she can’t tear her eyes away from her bite mark on his neck, directly over mine.
She touches it with her fingers, disappointment flashing through her. She wants to mark us but doesn’t want to attack us to do it. She swallows, and Cyrus tugs her to him.
“Come on, let’s get you cleaned up,” Cyrus tells her.
“Want some help? I can wash your back or your chest. Could even lick you clean,” Latham says.
She growls at him thinking he is taunting her. He is, kind of, but I have no doubt he would do it if she agrees. His tongue snakes out, and he licks his lips as he watches Cyrus steer her toward the hallway.
“Latham?”
“Chill, Eli. I know she is yours, but I am down for sharing.”
“I am not sharing her. Steer clear of her. She has been through enough,” I tell him.
“Sam? What did become of him?”
“Nothing. He is dust in the wind now. But I mean it, Latham. We won’t share her, so back off. She is unstable enough. I don’t need you meddling with her,” I tell him.
“You and Cyrus never minded me meddling with you both.”
“That was before her, no more games. Not with Addie,” I tell him, and he sighs.
“Fine, I should head down anyway. Make sure you bring her down after she showers. Both she and your son need to register. The sooner she is registered, the safer she will be. The hunters will know she is off-limits then, and I have already summoned Pete. Any idea on what his punishment should be?”
“Death, but I do need to ask a favor,” I tell him.
“And what do I get for this favor?” he asks.
I raise an eyebrow at him. Dirty bastard. “Not my fucking soul, that’s for sure.”
“Fine, but I want something in return.”
“I am asking for a favor that will take you two seconds to do. What do you want?”
“I want a night with Addie,” he purrs, running his hands up my chest. I fight the urge to shiver.
“No, Latham,” I tell him.
“Fine, you can just owe me one back then.”
I roll my eyes at him. “Fine, but I need you to get in Pete’s head. I think he may have killed Michael Paisley, Addie’s father.”
Now, that piqued his interest.
“Michael?”
I nod. Michael worked well with the supernatural council and wasn’t afraid to stand up for supernaturals.
Latham knew him; he hates humans, but Michael, he actually liked and investigated his death for years.
But without proof and reason to look into Jamison’s past, his hands are tied.
Michael was the go-between for both councils, a negotiator of sorts fighting for both sides.
But Pete breached it by getting my father to grow illegal herbs.
Now Latham has every right to get in his head and find out if he has something to do with it.
He hates Jamison, but he is just as dirty, making me wonder if it’s been just a front all along.
“No favor needed. But if he did do it, he will pay for it.”
I was about to turn away and go search for my mates when he cleared his throat.
“Wait, Michael had two daughters,” Latham says.
I turn to look at him. “Taylor. Addie’s twin, and she is Porter’s mate, also Lycan now.”
“Damn, but she will have to register,” he says deviously.
“Off-limits, too.”
He presses his lips in a line.
“You will find someone you aren’t tempted to kill,” I tell him.
“No, the last woman, I ate her soul. Now I prefer other people’s play things. I am less likely to kill them,” he says.
I shake my head and watch him head for the door.