Sitting beside me on the bed, his presence soaked into me. He cleared his throat, directing his words at me instead of his pet. “They don’t allow me to keep any medicine.” Disgust tainted his voice—I didn’t know if it was toward the people keeping him captive or to me. “I’d sooner just put you out of your misery and be done with it. But you seem to have done something to my cat.”
Leaning over me, he whispered, “If I find out you’re using him to get to me—if you dare hurt him—I’ll rip out your heart and feed it to him.”
A quiet hiss as if Whisper could speak English and had overheard Lucien threatening me.
“Fuck, you’re a pain,” Lucien cursed. “What the hell has gotten into you? She’s just a girl. Just another liar. Another murderous little pretender.”
Whisper didn’t respond and Lucien exhaled heavily.
Time paused or my mind skipped, but finally, his annoyance cut through my gluey fog. “Like I said, if she dies today, it’s not my fault. Don’t sulk just because you went and got attached to one of their little rats.”
Rat?
Who the hell is he calling a rat?
His hand lashed around my wrist, his thumb finding my pulse again. “I’m not a doctor and I don’t have anything to help.” His voice seemed directed at me again, returning to that callous ice. “And those bastards who shoved you in here don’t care if you live or die.”
The heavy bulk of Whisper’s warm velveteen body pressed against my side as if he’d lain down in protest. Two hundred pounds of panther hugged me like a living sandbag.
“You really are a traitor,” Lucien mumbled.
The cat huffed.
“Fuck it.” Lucien shifted. He sucked in a sharp breath as the bed shuddered. The panther went rigid beside me. “I’ll do what Whisper wants. At least if this doesn’t work, you’ll just be one more dead girl I don’t have to bother with.”
Something pushed against my lips.
Not a cup. Not glass or porcelain.
Skin.
Hot, male skin.
His hand grabbed my cheeks, squeezing the hinge of my jaw and making my mouth open.
Metallic, warm liquid soaked onto my tongue, bitter and sharp.
It tasted wrong.
My body reacted, trying to reject whatever it was.
Survival instinct jerked me out the quagmire I’d fallen into. Motor control came back, and I fought him off weakly. I tried to stop him administering whatever it was he force-fed me.
“Don’t be stubborn.” Cupping the back of my head, he kept me trapped. “Swallow.”
My gag reflex kicked in, not giving me a choice.
I swallowed against my control.
And winced as the full flavour of what he’d given me exploded.
Copper and salt.
Blood.
My eyes flew open, locking onto his.
“More.” The bed dipped as he leaned closer. The shadow of his face hovered over mine like an eclipse. His fingers moved to my nose, pinching off my air.
My eyes widened in panic.
“Another mouthful and then I’ll let you go.” He held his wrist tight against my lips. “Do it.”
I thrashed but was no match.
His blood trickled down my throat—
I swallowed again on reflex.
He let me go.
My stomach churned as I shot upright, leaning over the edge of the bed to retch.
He pushed me back down with an arrogant sniff. “You throw that up and I’ll kill you right now.”
His eyes burned with truth. His voice full of violent certainty.
I gagged and slammed both hands over my mouth. The surge of nausea rose fierce and hot.
“You’ve been warned,” he murmured.
Fresh sweat broke across my skin as I broke out in shudders. The world came back into blaring colour, sharp and detailed. My tongue dragged over my teeth, tasting iron.
He was too close. Far, far too close.
I almost gagged again.
He raised an eyebrow, daring me.
Doing my best to think about anything other than the fact he’d just fed me his blood, I blurted, “Why did you do that? What the hell were you thinking?”
Holding up his wrist, he revealed the decent cut he’d caused. A long thin line, red and sore sat directly in front of the silver cuff locked tight around him. He smirked at my shock. “Is this you trying to pretend, again, that you don’t know who I am?”
I narrowed my eyes. “I’m not pretending.”
His smirk shifted to a scowl. “Do you honestly expect me to believe that?”
“I don’t really care what you believe. It’s the truth.”
He leaned back a little, the first flicker of uncertainty in his gaze.
A long moment passed before he muttered, “You truly don’t know?”
A tremble went down my spine that had nothing to do with the fact that he made every part of my body come alive and everything to do with the fact that beneath his hate and fury existed a depth of pain and loneliness so vast, it mirrored my own.
It was the kind of agony that ate through skin and bone until all that was left was a toxic blend of wariness and hope.
He made it impossible for me to see him as a monster. I only saw a man who’d been caged too long. And for an impossible second, it felt as if we stared through the same prison bars.
He cleared his throat, breaking the spell and making my cheeks go pink.
Looking away, I fumbled with the blankets just like I fumbled with something to say. “A-Are you saying you’re finally ready to believe me?”
He sucked in a breath and sat taller, his eyes turning frosty again. “No. But no one can act as dumb as you for long.”
My chin shot up as indignation flared. “Your bedside manner could really do with some work.”
“I wouldn’t even be here if it wasn’t for my traitorous cat.” He glowered at Whisper who hadn’t budged from my side. “He’s the reason I saved you. If it were up to me, I would’ve just let you die.”
“That’s a bit dramatic. And pompous, actually. I wouldn’t have died. I just have these attacks—”
“Regardless. You’re welcome.”
“Why wouldn’t you have helped me?” I held his glower. “Because I’m just a rat to you?”
He scowled. “Eavesdropping on private conversations now?”
“Hard not to when you’re right here.”
“Careful,” he purred. “Just because Whisper likes you doesn’t mean I won’t hurt you.”
All those feelings he’d invoked boomeranged back with scorn. What had I been thinking? Any signs of fragility I’d seen in him must’ve been a trick of the light.
I smiled, a little unhinged. “You know what? Thanks for helping me in whatever weird way you did, but I really, really don’t like you.”
“Oh, look.” His smirk returned. “We’ve finally found something we have in common.”
Eyeing up the blood still oozing from his wrist, he held up his hand. “Fancy some more?”
“Not even if you paid me.”
He stilled, genuine shock making him frown. “You’re telling the truth.”
“And finally, you believe me.”
“I...I think you might be the only person in the entire world who doesn’t want it.”
“Want what?” My eyebrows flew up. “Your blood?”
He shrugged as if he didn’t care but...something pinched his eyes. Nervousness? Self-consciousness?
Who the hell is this man?
His confession that he’d found me noisy the other night—after just a few sentences—hinted he’d lived a very silent, very lonely existence, and...I had no explanation for how that affected me.