“Dismissing me?” he asked coldly.
“I am exhausted. You tried to strangle me today, and then I got to listen to you have sex for hours while I sat here starving. For the record, Van Helsing, I am mortal, as you should know since you keep throwing in my face. I need sustenance to maintain my mediocre figure, as you so delicately pointed out. I want my piercings back too. I weaken without silver, and your house seems to be lacking it.”
“Your figure is perfect. If I had tried to strangle you today, you’d be dead. I reacted badly, but I am a bit jaded where your bloodline and mine are concerned. I am sorry for overlooking the fact that you require food in my need to heal from my wounds. You aren’t getting your piercings back because I know exactly why you have them, and what they can do. As for the screaming, I was pretending the feeder was you, and I may have lost control a little bit. I wish I had fed from you, but being you’re not immortal yet, I didn’t wish to stress that I wanted to fuck you. Unfortunately, I didn’t have much choice in the matter without seeming like a complete asshole.”
“Oh,” I said breathlessly. “Look, I get that I’m not very knowledgeable about what is happening here. I’m not an idiot, though. I’m not as weak as you think I am. I could handle you, just for the record.” He smiled a lopsided grin, standing up as he tilted his head. “I didn’t mean right now. I’m not interested in sloppy seconds.”
“I wouldn’t take you after soiling myself on a feeder, Remington. You’re a woman. You deserve respect in that aspect. Considering the conversation with Nyx, you’ve never reached a climax with anyone but me?”
“We’re not having this conversation,” I blushed, turning toward the table, refilling my glass. “Whiskey? You should drink too because then your lips are busy and Lord knows those lips need to be busy… On drinking! They need to be busy drinking. Let’s get drunk. No,” I said, shaking my head. “No, we probably shouldn’t get drunk. I’m a pretty easy drunk, so we shouldn’t do that together. Shut up, Remington!” I shouted, turning horrified eyes on him. I watched his lips twitching as he fought laughter. “Drink?” I growled, holding out the bottle because fuck it, I wasn’t doing well around him.
“Are you always like this when you’re nervous?”
“I am not nervous,” I lied, turning away from his heated stare, embarrassment filling my cheeks. His hand grabbed my braid, pulling on it.
“You’re nervous, and it’s cute, Remi. You are so innocent that it’s intriguing. Now sit down and eat, because I have it on good authority that you require food. I enjoy listening to you eat, as well.”
He grabbed a cup as I downed the second glass of whiskey, holding my glass out for more. His brow lifted as his eyes slid to my lips. I sucked my bottom lip between my teeth, watching him pour a double shot into my glass.
“I’m sorry my family killed yours,” I stated softly, holding his surprised stare.
“I’m not sorry mine killed yours,” he returned, and I winced.
“Ouch.”
“Tell me about your mother. The Elizabeth I knew wouldn’t live in a hovel for even mere moments. She’d have found it beneath her. And those glyphs, what were they?” I swallowed, staring at him before I reached for a cinnamon roll, shoving the entire thing into my mouth as his eyes narrowed, and a smile tugged at his lips. “No moaning this time? What a shame. You make the most delicious noises, little one. Go to sleep. Tomorrow we will finish this conversation, and you’ll make me a sword to prove you are a Silversmith. Sweat dreams, and if you find me within them, do try not to suck my cock. I won’t let you finish me off the same way again. Next time I wake up with you sexually participating, I’m going to consider it an invitation to do more.”
Chapter Thirteen
I stared at the glass room in the enormous basement of the mansion. There was a large assembly of knights moving in and out of what appeared to be some kind of control room. Outside of that room was a long table with chairs around it, and big TVs covering several news outlets. Rhys had an entire surveillance room in his basement where he watched the outside world in high definition.
He had an amazing setup which was something I hadn’t expected. I’d known he’d be articulate with his men, but he was eerily efficient. Rhys wasn’t an alpha by mistake. The way he controlled the room and dominated it with his presence was proof of his status.
Today he’d forgone his suit and wore a faded shirt with dark, loose-fitting jeans. His boots were expensive Italian leather, designed with his family crest. He’d pulled his hair back away from his face, revealing his sharp, angular features. He’d also skipped shaving today, which made my fingers itch to trace the 5 o’clock shadow to see if it was as soft as it looked.
“How does this work?” he asked, and I smiled tightly.
“I normally create bullets, but you’ve asked for a sword which will take magic since silver is a soft metal. I’ll need copper, bronze, and silver. The room needs to have extreme temperature settings. It will take several hours at least to make a sword strong enough to wield against bone. It’s not a simple process by any means. I’ll have to melt the metal, cool it, form it, and then reheat it. At that point, it becomes tricky. I’ll use magic to enhance the blade with the Silversmith silver in the actual design, adding potency to the blade’s magic. I’ll then repeat the process until the final heating steps. After that, I’ll have to cool it slowly to reinforce the metal and ensure it doesn’t weaken in the process.”
“How many hours are we talking?” he asked, canting his head to the side, studying me.
“I’ve made two swords in my lifetime. One was a mistake that I melted down once I’d finished. The other is still being used today by Nyx. Unlike others in my line, any blade I create becomes infused with magic that adheres to the one who will wield it.”
“How does that work?”
“I’m different from others in our line. When they craft, it is merely Silversmith silver that is the end result. However, when I do it, something else is added to the weapon. Nyx’s sword molds into what she needs, and occasionally, it’s more penis-shaped than an actual blade she wields.”
His eyes narrowed, and a smirk replaced the frown on his mouth. Rhys turned my words over in his mind, and I saw his eyes burning with more questions, as if he found me a wealth of information. I now saw why Winchester was always telling me to shut my craw, as she called it.
“I can’t say how long because that depends on the metal, magic, and the room you provide. It looks pretty state-of-the-art and probably has everything I need. However, it isn’t my armory, and that will slow me down. If I was in my armory using my tools, probably four hours, max. However, I’m not, so I’d double that time.”
“Trust the process,” Nyx interjected, sliding up against him as she smirked at me. “Reporting for duty, hooker. I’ll be your captain today, buckle up, bitches. It’s about to get hot in here, so take them clothes off, and let’s work it, woman!”
I scrunched up my nose, pulling my shirt over my head to hand it to Nyx. She tossed it over her shoulder and wiggled her brows while holding out her hand. I looked down at my shirt, watching Nyx deflate as she huffed, moving to pick it back up, making a show out of folding it. I hooked my thumbs through the warm-up pants and pushed them down to reveal the tight spandex shorts I wore when I forged.