“It doesn’t sound like you were sparring.” Her thumb brushed his lower lip and he shivered as a thousand tiny arcs of electricity tripped along his nerves. “Is that where you got this? I thought maybe Syn gave it to you.”
He lifted his hand and captured her wrist, held her thumb to his lips and pressed a kiss to it, savoured the connection between them and how it strengthened as he held on to her, as he lingered near to her. “No. She wanted to cut off my head and deliver it to the prince of my kind.”
“Sounds like Syn.” Her smile was too brief, gone too quickly, the pleasure of it stolen from him as she sobered. “Do you feel aggressive now?”
He shook his head.
“But you will if you’re away from me?”
He nodded this time, and decided to spell it out for her because she deserved to know what she was getting into. “I feel aggressive when you’re near too… If other males are around you. If unmated males look at you. If you look at them. Hell, I go crazy if you look at mated males. Just the thought of you being near the damned vampire—”
“Does that ever stop?” She stroked his lip and it tingled in response, a need to kiss her filling him as his gaze lowered to her mouth.
He thought he nodded, wasn’t sure of anything as he stared at her ruby lips. “If we mate.”
“A mating that requires blood.” She went to take her hand back and as much as he wanted to tighten his grip on it and deny her, he released her instead, sensing she needed a moment.
“I said I won’t bite you, Mackenzie, and I mean it.” Even though he was fairly sure it would be the death of him. He would go insane from the craving to know the taste of her, from having to hold himself back whenever they were together, restraining himself and his instincts.
“And I said it wasn’t a no. If this thing works out, then… maybe.”
He didn’t like how she hesitated, as if she’d had to force herself to say that word. “I don’t want a bond with you if it will feel like a cage. I couldn’t do that to you.”
Her face softened and she raised her hands, framed his face with her palms and tilted her head back. “There aren’t many men in this world who would do such a thing.”
And it touched her. He could see that in her eyes as she gazed up at him, as she leaned towards him and her front pressed to his. He would do his best for her.
Because he was falling madly in love with her.
He lowered his head, inching his mouth towards hers.
A snarky female voice shattered the moment.
“Gross.”
Chapter 22
It had been three days since the demoness had interrupted Hartt’s moment with Mackenzie, and the female continued to block him whenever he tried to get near his beautiful ki’ara. He hadn’t been able to get a moment alone with her. The only time Syn let him near her was when they were in the library with Grave and Fuery.
Hartt had tried to convince Grave and Mackenzie to travel to his guild to come up with a plan, but the vampire had insisted they remained at the stronghold, pointing out the fact it was heavily guarded and mentioning his doubts that the witch would dare attack him there. It had been enough to convince Mackenzie.
Which had been enough to provoke the darkness in Hartt, had ripped a reaction from him before he could stop it and had seen him flying across the room to collar the vampire and slam him into one of the bookcases.
It hadn’t gone down well with anyone and Hartt had ended up excusing himself and teleporting to the guild under the pretence of wanting an ally of his own present given the fact that Syn was apparently staying.
Fuery had been more than angry with him when he had returned to the guild a day ago, but had been quick to forgive him when he had told him Harbin had been right about Mackenzie and that he was sure now that she was his fated one. Fuery had demanded to go with him when he returned to the vampire’s bastion. Hartt hadn’t bothered to tell him that had been his plan all along, because his friend had seemed almost happy when Hartt had agreed. Getting him to leave Shaia had turned out to be problematic though, and Hartt had been forced to teleport both Fuery and Shaia to the stronghold of the First Legion of the Preux Chevaliers so she would know where it was and could travel there every so often to spend time with her mate.
The drain of teleporting Fuery and another elf with him had been monumental. It had sent him to his knees in front of the damned vampires. He had almost lost it when several of the males who had been milling around near the fountain in the main square of the stronghold had given him looks that had plainly stated they had witnessed his weakness.
Mackenzie had thankfully chosen that moment to appear before him, a beautiful look of concern on her face.
The irritating demoness had appeared before Mackenzie could come to him though and had gotten in the way again. He was beginning to get the impression she was intent on putting a halt to things between him and her friend. It was either that or she was testing his resolve, seeing if she could break him and make him give up.
It wasn’t going to happen. Somehow, he would find a way to win Mackenzie’s heart.
First, he had to find a way to be alone with her.
He looked over his shoulder at the window there as Grave droned on about what his men had found at the old mansion Mackenzie had destroyed, which amounted to nothing. His gaze tracked a few of the vampires, picking out several familiar faces, ones that stoked the darkness inside him. He had caught those males looking at Mackenzie, had catalogued their faces so he could hunt them down when no one was watching and kill them, removing them from the picture so they couldn’t steal her from him.
Hartt sensed Fuery’s gaze on him, dragged his eyes away from the vampires and tried to smile to alleviate his friend’s concern. Whatever he managed wasn’t convincing. Fuery pushed away from the long oak table and came to him, a silent question in his eyes.
He shrugged in response and raked his fingers through his blue-black hair. Several times, he had spoken to his friend about how being in this place was driving him insane. There were too many males here, most of them unmated. He was trying to hold back his instincts, but sometimes it was difficult.
The door of the library opened and a blond male strode in, heading towards Grave. His second in command, a vampire named Asher. Hartt had met him in the corridor when he had been discussing something with Grave after one of their meetings.
Mackenzie lifted her gaze from the information the vampires had gathered, a mass of notes scrawled on parchment.
She settled it on Asher.
Every instinct Hartt possessed fired, and every dark and terrible urge that he had been suppressing for the past few days, locked away in a cage, exploded to the surface. On a vicious growl, he teleported and grabbed the blond male, and came around behind him as the black scales of his armour rippled over his hands, transforming his fingers into talons.
Poised to slit the male’s throat.
Only Fuery’s hand on his wrist stopped him from going through with it, held him firm when he growled and fought to free himself.
“Hartt,” Fuery murmured and Hartt felt the connection between them open, sensed his friend’s concern and his need to calm him.
Hartt’s eyes widened as he realised what he had been about to do. He shoved the vampire away from him and sank into the bond he shared with Fuery, using it to regain control over his darker desires. He breathed in time with Fuery, stared into his amethyst eyes and shut the world out as he focused on taming his emotions and clawing back control. It was slower to come this time, the need to fight a persistent itch that made him restless, tempted him to surrender to it to satisfy it.