Chapter 15 #2

Sloane gave her a blank stare she couldn’t see. “Ask you out of where? Your apartment?”

Cecilia gave him an equally flabbergasted look.

“Ask me out of— Gods, Sloane, do you not even know what asking someone out is? It’s telling someone you’re interested in them romantically by inviting them to do an activity with you.

Dinner. A movie. A walk in the park. Kissing at the front door after a magical night. That sort of thing.”

It wasn’t easy for him to process. “If I had… asked you out, would you have said yes?”

“Well, I know elves only just started dating outside their people, so maybe it would’ve been a little complicated, and let’s be honest, you’re super-duper scary…

” She trailed off to take a deep breath.

Patting the counter, she continued in a quick, nervous voice, “But it’s not like that’s ever stopped me before, so yes, I probably would’ve. ”

Sloane had no idea what to make of that information. Carefully storing it away for later examination, he asked, “Will you go out with me now?”

Cecilia perked up. Pushing her shoulders back, she whirled around on her stool until she faced away from the counter. Fascinated by her energetic movements and astonishing lack of grace, Sloane pushed his boot against the railing of his stool until he faced her again.

She stood in front of him and clapped her hands once like he’d seen the nursery teachers do whenever they wanted to get the attention of rowdy children.

“I’m so glad you asked,” she chirped, “because I can’t stay cooped up in this fortress all the time, and I also happened to heavily imply to my best friend that we’re dating. I don’t like lying to her, so this will kill two birds with one stone.”

Trying very hard to follow what she was saying, he asked, “You want me to kill birds for you?”

Cecilia’s smile froze for a moment. “Um, no. That’s just a saying. I meant that us going on a date solves a lot of problems at once.”

He only had the vaguest ideas of what going on a date entailed. Sloane had certainly seen a number of them in progress over the years, but he’d only ever been a part of ending them prematurely with a well-placed bolt or throat-slitting in the restroom.

What he did know for certain was that they tended to take place outside the home, which would prove problematic.

“It’s not safe outside the Battery,” he informed her. “We can date here.”

Cecilia spread her arms out wide. “No offense, champ, but how? All you’ve got is a TV, a drawer of raw meat, and processed foods. I’d say we could do a movie night with dinner, but you won’t take your helmet off in front of me for some reason, so that’d just be weird.”

“It’s not safe,” he argued.

“Again, I highly doubt any vampires are out for my blood, but even if they were…” Cecilia padded closer. So close that she had to tilt her chin up to meet his gaze through the smoky glass of his visor.

It was a profound shock to his system to feel her palm settle on his chest.

The muscles below her palm contracted sharply, as if they’d been electrocuted by the perfect softness of her skin.

Tingles raced through his nerves to tighten his abdomen in a wave that settled below his thick utility belt.

His cock, never something he paid much attention to before, jerked to attention with a fierceness that made him bite back a hiss.

Thank the gods I found you when I did, he silently told her. If Thaddeus’s instructors knew how easily you could torture me, I never would’ve made it out alive.

“I’m not your prisoner, right?” Cecilia trailed her fingertips down his chest. Every glancing touch left a trail of fire in its wake, and when she pressed her palm above the dip of his bellybutton, he was forced to take deep breaths to control the urge to grab her.

“You want to make me happy because you like me. Making me happy means letting me out of the house. Letting me out of the house means you protect me, just like you’ve been doing for a year. That’s not so bad, right?”

She had no idea what she was asking for. But when she touched his skin and looked up at him like that, Sloane couldn’t refuse her. The urge to please his consort was a howl in his mind, as potent as any bloodlust or thrill of a successful hunt.

It was a terrible idea. He knew it. He also recognized that to some degree he was being played.

But she was his doe. Doing what she asked wasn’t just a pleasure — it was essential.

Sloane dared to lift a gloved hand to her unbruised cheek. Skimming the backs of his claws down that lovely curve, he asked, “What does a date require?”

Cecilia’s voice came out a little rougher than normal when she answered, “Going somewhere outside the home to spend quality time together. Sometimes there’s food. Sometimes there’s entertainment. But it can be whatever you want it to be, really.”

I can work with that.

“Then we’ll go on a date,” he announced, fully aware that he was making a risky mistake.

Her dark eyes gleamed with pleasure. “Tonight?”

“Tonight.”

“Because I’m not your prisoner,” she confirmed.

“You’re not my prisoner.” Sloane slipped two fingers under her chin to delicately tilt it upward. He watched in fascination as her pupils expanded into wide black discs. Her lips, always a little rosy and so inviting, parted with a soft inhale.

Lowering his head until his visor touched her forehead, he whispered, “I’m yours.”

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