Chapter Four
Giovanni
I didn’t want Kyson to fear me. Admittedly, I could be intense at times. It was part of who I was, etched into my very being. But as I stood there, his scent calling to the darkest part of me, I felt like a desperate fool who didn’t know when to let go. How many times had he pushed me away over the years? How many times had I let him?
It shouldn’t matter that I’d seen raw pain in his eyes at the station, the kind that had left me aching to pull him into my arms like I had the night we met.
And yet it did.
Even now, finding him against the wall, I couldn’t bring myself to walk away.
No matter how much I should have.
For five years, the weight of my failure had eaten away at the edges of my soul. I’d known Osiris had targeted the male in the club. I should have made sure he was safe after putting him to bed that night. Kyson had asked me to stay, and I’d agreed, but slipped out after he’d fallen asleep.
The following evening, Kyson had been dragged into a nightmare no one should endure.
Malachi had been the right one to save him. Leaving the male vulnerable to the demon and then try to be his hero? That would’ve been its own form of cruelty not even my dark heart could inflict.
“Why do you fear me, little bird?”
My gaze lowered to his neck, listening to the rush of blood flowing through his veins. My fangs threatened to lengthen, my darkness begging me to bite, but I fought the urge, unwilling to scare him even more than he already was.
“First, tell me how you can stand so close to me.”
His breath came out in a silent shudder. “I’m repulsive to your kind.”
I spun him, causing him to gasp, then pulled him into an embrace. I’d yearned for this moment for so long. The reality of it finally happening left me breathless. Kyson stared up at me, his expression mirroring the same shock.
“You don’t…”
I chose my words carefully, knowing how skittish he was in my presence. “You don’t repulse me.”
“I don’t need your pity or your lies.”
Hurt flashed in his eyes, but he didn’t try to pull away.
Leaning in, I brushed my cheek over his, reveling in the warmth of his skin against mine. “Your scent”—I inhaled deeply, savoring every second of this moment with him—“is the most alluring fragrance I have ever encountered.”
My arms tightened around him when he began to tremble. “Now, tell me why I frighten you, little bird.”
His gaze darted over my chest, and I heard the sound of his heart racing faster. His expression betrayed the inner turmoil he was experiencing, and I wondered if he would actually answer me.
“Because you make me want what I can’t have,”
he finally admitted in a hushed tone.
The confession caught me off guard, and for a moment, I was rendered speechless. “What is it that you can’t have?”
But he remained silent, avoiding my gaze as if afraid to admit the truth.
“Tell me, Kyson,”
I gently urged him, tucking my fingers under his chin and coaxing him to look at me. But still, he refused to meet my eyes. “Please,”
I added softly, hoping to break through the barriers he had built around himself.
“It doesn’t matter.”
Kyson pulled out of my arms, giving me his back. He was pushing me away yet again.
Not for the first time, I wished I could be as closed-off as Malachi had been before Dane. To harden my heart so no one could slip inside.
For centuries, it had been that way. I’d been just as ruthless and bloodthirsty as my brother. Maybe even more so. The void inside me never hesitated. It didn’t feel guilt or longing or regret.
Back then, there was no room for softness. We had been born to the most monstrous vampires to ever live. Malachi might have been the one who’d had the compassion beaten out of him, but I hadn’t escaped the cruelty unscathed.
Then a human had shattered that impenetrable wall. Somehow, without even trying, Colson had burrowed under my skin, dragging emotions to the surface I’d never felt before. I might have loved him, truly loved him, if I’d known what the hell love even felt like before him.
Then Malachi had slept with the male.
Let it go. But I couldn’t. You didn’t just let go of a resentment that had gnawed at you for fifty goddamn years. Even after what happened at the station, the anger still sat there, festering inside of me.
Forgiveness was a long road, and I wasn’t even sure I wanted to take that trip.
You’re a hard son of a bitch to please. You criticize me because I don’t treat you like a brother but complain when I do.
Fuck if that wasn’t the truth.
Not even a month ago, I’d told him I’d put the past behind me. The lie had slid easily on the breeze between us, causing me to wonder if truth even mattered anymore.
Trust and loyalty were foreign things, impossible to believe in when betrayal and self-preservation had been my constant companions for so long.
And Colson’s betrayal had only solidified that belief.
Now here I stood, wanting Kyson as badly now as I had when we’d met. The ache for him had never dulled, remaining a maddening fire burning low in my gut. In all my years of existence, I’d never yearned for someone the way I did for him, and I had never figured out why. What was it about the human that completely unraveled me?
“I just…”
Kyson raked his fingers through his blond hair, leaving strands sticking out in messy tufts. “You wouldn’t understand, Giovanni.”
“You’re right. I can’t understand, considering you won’t talk to me, Kyson.”
The snarl came unbidden, sharper than I intended, but his stubbornness was maddening.
He charged toward me. I braced myself, unsure what he was about to do. His scowl promised nothing good.
“Open the goddamn door right now!”
The corners of his mouth turned downward, his lips pressing into a hard, unmoving line.
“So that’s it?”
I argued. “You’re just going to run away from this? Push me aside and shut me out like you always do?”
My control slipped, and I felt the heat behind my eyes as they glowed red, my fangs extending.
“Fuck you, Giovanni!”
“I brought you here to share a part of myself I’ve never shared with anyone, and you can’t even give me one fucking answer?”
The volume of my voice matched his, raw and biting.
“The mighty Giovanni,”
he scoffed, his words dripping with contempt. “Not everyone bows down to you in reverence. I didn’t ask you to share a damn thing with me. Even at your worst, you will never be the monster that son of a bitch turned me into!”
His voice cracked, catching on a sob as his chest heaved. “I wish to god he would have just ended me instead of turning me into a freak.”
I stood there, thunderstruck by his confession. My gaze swept over him instinctively, taking in every tremor, every frayed edge of the control he barely held together. The only time I’d seen him without clothing was the night Malachi had brought him home. The cloak wrapped around him had been soaked in blood, and when Malachi had pulled the fabric aside, I’d been horrified at what that demon had done.
There had been so many gouges, so many burns seared into his skin in neat, deliberate circles, all inflicted on someone who hadn’t deserved it. I’d staggered backward, wondering how the hell the male had survived.
But to hear him say he wished he’d died tore through me, leaving a deep ache in my chest.
I’d spent years watching him reclaim himself piece by piece, fighting like hell to put his shattered life back together. It had only made me respect him more, admire him more.
And maybe watching him fight like hell was the reason I had fallen in love with him.
The thought hit me like a blow, my lungs stalling as the truth settled in—a blazing, undeniable epiphany. I didn’t know what love was, not really. Yet, when I looked at Kyson, he burned brighter than anything I’d ever allowed myself to want. Slow and consuming, something no storm could smother, something no time could erode.
In two swift strides, I had him in my arms, holding him tight, even as he twisted and pushed against me. “Goddamn it, Kyson. For once, let me comfort you.”
He fought for a moment longer, but then his resistance crumbled. He slumped against me, trembling as silent tears soaked into my shirt. I tightened my grip, steadying him through the release he had probably never allowed himself before.
I lowered my cheek to the top of his head, my arms firmly around him, holding him together while he unraveled in the safety of my war room.
My petit oiseau , fragile but strong, finally breaking so he could begin to rebuild.
* * * *
An hour later we were seated on the front steps of the farmhouse so Kyson could get some fresh air. The night sky was clear, a billion stars gleaming overhead as I leaned back on my elbows, simply enjoying his company.
The male appeared more relaxed, straddling a plate on his legs as he ate short ribs, baked beans, and potato salad. Anytime Richard cooked, I stayed clear of that part of the castle. The smell of food had always nauseated me. But from the way Kyson ate, he thoroughly enjoyed the meal.
“What does that taste like?”
I sat forward, resting my elbows on my knees, my gaze trailing over his features as he chewed. Then my gaze lowered to his mouth, and wickedly sensual thoughts filled my mind. Since the night I’d first laid eyes on him, Kyson had been a temptation hard to resist.
If he hadn’t been drugged that night, I wasn’t sure I would have been able to hold back. He’d captivated me then, and the feeling hadn’t faded. If anything, it had grown stronger. I wanted those slim legs wrapped around me, begging me to take him harder as I fed from him.
“I’m not sure how to describe it.”
Kyson used a few napkins to wipe barbecue sauce from his fingers. “Amazing? I could try my best, but until you’ve had a bite, you couldn’t appreciate the explosion of flavors.”
“Explosion?”
A slow smile formed. “Is that how you describe food?”
Kyson chuckled, and I could bathe in the sound. “You would be surprised at what I do to entertain myself. Winterhaven isn’t exactly brimming with people I can hang out with. I have to find a way to break up the boredom.”
I could think of one way to pass the time.
He thrust a rib toward my face. “Try it.”
A hiss erupted as I recoiled, the scent slipping into my lungs, making me nauseous. “Keep your pig to yourself, petit oiseau. I like my meals on the bloody side.”
“Just a teensy bite.”
He wiggled it close to my nose. I shoved his hand away. This was not the kind of playfulness I enjoyed. If it had been anyone else, I would have broken their hand.
The rib slipped from Kyson’s fingers, landing a few feet away in the grass, leaving a trail of sauce behind that dotted the lawn.
Kyson looked crestfallen as a single whimper squeaked from his throat. “How could you waste such… perfection ?”
For a moment, I thought he would retrieve it.
He reached out, though he stayed seated. “My poor rib.”
“You were the one shoving your meat in my face,”
I defended, my stomach still queasy. If I still fought on the battlefield, I would have just revealed to my enemies how to defeat me.
Kyson slowly turned his head, his lips parted. “I didn’t shove—”
Realizing what I’d said, the side of my mouth curled. “Technically true.”
He lowered his gaze, growing quiet. The fork scraped the plate as he shuffled his food around.
Did anyone hand out awards for major fuckups? My intention hadn’t been to kill the mood, but the way he tapped on the mound of potatoes, there should have been police tape surrounding us.
If he stood and went inside, I couldn’t blame him. He was sensitive about his body. I knew that now, and wished I had been more considerate before those words had blurted out of my mouth.
Normally, I chose my words carefully. Almost strategically, because that was how I’d always played my hand. Watch your opponent carefully, think two or three moves ahead. That was how my mind worked.
But I’d lowered my guard with Kyson. Got caught up in the moment, enjoying myself for the first time in decades. That wasn’t entirely true. I’d never been playful with anyone.
And I wasn’t in the habit of apologizing because I was usually careful not to screw up in the first place.
Which made it hard for me to figure out what to say.
“So…”
Kyson took a deep breath like he’d reset himself. “Since I wept all over your shirt, can I ask what Dick is?”
Oh, hell no. No fucking way. I wasn’t touching that since I still tasted remnants of my foot in my mouth. I’d rather grab the rib from the grass and eat it.
I’d engaged in many battles over my lifetime, had more blood on my hands than I cared to remember, and survived two of the most brutal parents imaginable, but I wasn’t insane enough to open my mouth right now.
“I don’t see why you won’t tell me,”
Kyson argued. “What do you think I’m going to do with the information, use it against you somehow?”
I didn’t trust myself to respond, not after my earlier misstep. Anything I said could send this conversation spiraling further, and I didn’t want that look back in Kyson’s eyes. I shifted my weight, giving nothing away.
Silence was safer.
“You act like it’s some big deal,”
he added, leaning forward. “You think I haven’t noticed? I’m not blind.”
Blind to what, exactly? I kept my expression neutral, and although my mind was cycling through a dozen responses, none of them were safe to voice.
My gaze narrowed slightly. He sounded so earnest, which only made this worse. “Kyson,”
I said, my voice level, “are you sure you want to have this conversation?”
It was a talk I would love to have with him. I’d wanted Kyson for years, craved him in every way a man craved another. But if he was asking, what did that mean? I knew I was missing something. I had to be. Kyson was a guy, which meant he had a cock. I was completely confused.
“I’m asking, so, yeah, I want to have the conversation,”
he said. “I’ve seen the way his eyes glow, Giovanni. If I haven’t said anything about vampires, I’m not going to say anything about whatever Dick is.”
Richard. He’s talking about Richard. Right?
The tension in my shoulders eased, and I let out a long exhale. “Kyson,”
I said slowly, needing to be certain, “you’re talking about Richard, aren’t you?”
His head jerked back, brows furrowing. “Of course I’m talking about Dick. Who did you think I meant?”
A smirk tugged at the corner of my mouth. “Never mind, petit oiseau. And to answer your question, I don’t know. Malachi brought him here to work, but he’s never told anyone what Richard is.”
“What other beings are there?”
he asked, setting his plate aside. “Humans, vampires, and demons… Dick clearly isn’t any of them.”
I really wished Kyson would stop calling him that, especially when I wanted the male with every fiber of my being. My cock was already swollen, the outline in my pants only hidden by my untucked dress shirt.
Kyson was talking, and my gaze was drawn to his lips.
Soft, parted slightly as he spoke, completely unaware of how badly I wanted to taste him. My restraint was razor-thin, my body aching with the need to close the distance between us.
A slow shift, just enough to lean in without breaking the moment. The warmth of his breath brushed against my skin, the scent of barbecue lingering faintly, but a scent I could ignore if it meant finally kissing him.
I moved cautiously, not just because of what I was but because of who he was—because Kyson was scarred, guarded, and I wouldn’t take anything he wasn’t willing to give.
A flicker of hesitation crossed his features, the barest tension at the corner of his mouth. My fingers found the edge of his jaw, a barely-there touch, waiting, watching, giving him the space to pull away if he wanted.
If he did, I would stop. If he hesitated, I would wait.
But he didn’t.
Lashes lowered, his breath caught, a subtle tremor running through him. His pulse fluttered at his throat, his fingers twitching slightly as if caught between instinct and fear.
Still, he stayed.
He let out a quiet sound, not quite a moan, not quite a sigh, but it went straight to my cock, making the ache nearly unbearable. I angled my body, fingers finally skimming along his jaw, then lower, to the side of his throat, where his pulse beat erratically against my palm.
The first touch was light, a whisper of contact, testing. His lips were soft, warm, parting slightly as I deepened the kiss. Slow, unhurried, a careful exploration. His hands twitched at his sides, uncertainty warring with want. My fingers drifted lower, skimming his neck, lingering at the exposed skin of his collarbone, careful to avoid anything that might make him retreat.
The hesitant brush of his tongue against mine sent fire through my veins. The hunger was there, but I reined it in, letting this moment be his to control.
The kiss remained slow, sensual, unrushed. I let him lead, let him set the pace. His fingers curled in my shirt, gripping, hesitant but wanting.
And god , I wanted him too.
When he pulled away, his cheeks were flushed, his breathing ragged.
My fangs ached, my hunger pulling at the fringes of my restraint, but I kept it at bay. Because this wasn’t about me.
This was about Kyson learning, maybe for the first time, that he could be touched, wanted, worshiped, without expectation, without fear. I wanted more, but didn’t push. Didn’t overwhelm him, allowing him to enjoy his meal while our first kiss lingered between us.