want you here.” Confident in her strength, she came to stand within an inch of him. “I don’t want you at all.”
He smiled, but there was no true humor in his expression. “You’re practically drooling as you stare at me.”
“I don’t drool.”
“Open your mouth, let me see your fangs.”
“Fuck you.”
He pretended to be shocked. “Not in front of the balas , love.”
“Don’t pretend you care anything for the balas ,” she said through gritted teeth.
A sudden gust of pain assaulted her then, and she shuddered and winced before reaching for the wall to steady herself. This was bad. This whole mess. He was right. The bastard. She was drooling. She wanted so desperately to control herself around him, but her body, and the balas inside her womb, knew what it wanted. And it would go to any lengths—even the humiliation of its host—to get it.
“I’ll tell you what,” Syn said in a soft, calculated voice. “You want my blood? Take it.”
Her gaze flipped up to meet his. Just the words, the suggestion, the offer, pained her.
“You do want it?” he said.
Her eyes narrowed as she glared at him, and her entire body shuddered with need. She hated the thought of blood in her mouth. But his blood . . . “Yes, I want it,” she ground out. Shit, I crave it. I obsess over it. I lust for it.
He leaned closer, whispered, “Why do you hesitate, then?”
“Because, Mr. Wise, what I crave is toxic.” Her top lip trembled. “Despicable sludge. Poison.”
Dark brows lifted above intrigued eyes. “You speak of my blood.”
A grunt of sarcastic amusement came from her throat. “The paven ’s a genius.”
“Are you in love with me, Petra?”
“What?” She recoiled. “Shit, no. Never!” The thought made her sick. Or was it hunger and need raging inside her that twisted her empty belly? It was so hard to decipher what emotions coincided with what situations.
“Then why does it matter to you if my blood is moralistically toxic? It’s not logical. If you need it, you take it.”
Logic. Christ, logic had no place within her. Not now. Not this week surely. She couldn’t reason that way. She drew on lust and pain and hunger and angst. “What I don’t want to take is you inside my body.”
Syn’s eyes shifted to her belly. “Too late, love.”
She hissed at him, and the balas moved and stretched against her skin. Automatically, she placed a hand there and started rubbing in slow, soothing circles.
“I’m here,” he said evenly. “Only until the sun sets. Take it now while it’s available to you.”
Her fangs dropped completely, pressing against her lower lip. Gods, she hated this, hated her brothers and Dani for bringing him here, making her face him.
Want him.
This male who would’ve killed her and her child if Cruen hadn’t bled the desire out of him.
She growled deep in her throat and gripped the wall tighter. No child should have a father like this one—a father who didn’t want them or care about them. After she brought this child into the world, after the madness inside her ceased to reign, she was going to make sure she gave her new little life a true family.
“Your hesitation is foolish and a waste of time,” he said. “The balas clearly wishes to feed.”
“Don’t speak of my child.” She inhaled deeply, trying to control her hunger and a new wave of melancholy. “If it actually happens, this transaction of blood is between you and me. But first I want to know what it is you want.”
His brows lifted.
She sneered at him. “You don’t work on empathy, Mr. Wise, or understanding or kindness, remember? So what is it you want?”
His nostrils flared as he pulled in a deep breath. “When the sun goes down . . .”
“I let you leave?” she finished for him.
His eyes filled with amusement and he laughed softly. “Even with that glorious new strength you possess, you won’t be able to stop me in the dark. But looking the other way, calling off the
He smiled, but there was no true humor in his expression. “You’re practically drooling as you stare at me.”
“I don’t drool.”
“Open your mouth, let me see your fangs.”
“Fuck you.”
He pretended to be shocked. “Not in front of the balas , love.”
“Don’t pretend you care anything for the balas ,” she said through gritted teeth.
A sudden gust of pain assaulted her then, and she shuddered and winced before reaching for the wall to steady herself. This was bad. This whole mess. He was right. The bastard. She was drooling. She wanted so desperately to control herself around him, but her body, and the balas inside her womb, knew what it wanted. And it would go to any lengths—even the humiliation of its host—to get it.
“I’ll tell you what,” Syn said in a soft, calculated voice. “You want my blood? Take it.”
Her gaze flipped up to meet his. Just the words, the suggestion, the offer, pained her.
“You do want it?” he said.
Her eyes narrowed as she glared at him, and her entire body shuddered with need. She hated the thought of blood in her mouth. But his blood . . . “Yes, I want it,” she ground out. Shit, I crave it. I obsess over it. I lust for it.
He leaned closer, whispered, “Why do you hesitate, then?”
“Because, Mr. Wise, what I crave is toxic.” Her top lip trembled. “Despicable sludge. Poison.”
Dark brows lifted above intrigued eyes. “You speak of my blood.”
A grunt of sarcastic amusement came from her throat. “The paven ’s a genius.”
“Are you in love with me, Petra?”
“What?” She recoiled. “Shit, no. Never!” The thought made her sick. Or was it hunger and need raging inside her that twisted her empty belly? It was so hard to decipher what emotions coincided with what situations.
“Then why does it matter to you if my blood is moralistically toxic? It’s not logical. If you need it, you take it.”
Logic. Christ, logic had no place within her. Not now. Not this week surely. She couldn’t reason that way. She drew on lust and pain and hunger and angst. “What I don’t want to take is you inside my body.”
Syn’s eyes shifted to her belly. “Too late, love.”
She hissed at him, and the balas moved and stretched against her skin. Automatically, she placed a hand there and started rubbing in slow, soothing circles.
“I’m here,” he said evenly. “Only until the sun sets. Take it now while it’s available to you.”
Her fangs dropped completely, pressing against her lower lip. Gods, she hated this, hated her brothers and Dani for bringing him here, making her face him.
Want him.
This male who would’ve killed her and her child if Cruen hadn’t bled the desire out of him.
She growled deep in her throat and gripped the wall tighter. No child should have a father like this one—a father who didn’t want them or care about them. After she brought this child into the world, after the madness inside her ceased to reign, she was going to make sure she gave her new little life a true family.
“Your hesitation is foolish and a waste of time,” he said. “The balas clearly wishes to feed.”
“Don’t speak of my child.” She inhaled deeply, trying to control her hunger and a new wave of melancholy. “If it actually happens, this transaction of blood is between you and me. But first I want to know what it is you want.”
His brows lifted.
She sneered at him. “You don’t work on empathy, Mr. Wise, or understanding or kindness, remember? So what is it you want?”
His nostrils flared as he pulled in a deep breath. “When the sun goes down . . .”
“I let you leave?” she finished for him.
His eyes filled with amusement and he laughed softly. “Even with that glorious new strength you possess, you won’t be able to stop me in the dark. But looking the other way, calling off the
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