Page 45 of Burn for Her
Don’t waste this gift…
He wasn’t wasting it. He was saving it. Why didn’t anyone else understand that?
“No one touches her,” Dorian’s grip tightened on Lucian’s shirt. “Do you understand me? She cannot have another host.”
“Then you better get back up there.” Lucian shoved him backwards. Or attempted to. But Dorian’s feet remained planted firmly on the ground at the base of the steps and his aggression throttled into overdrive.
Suddenly, the hair rose on the back of his neck. He felt Lena approach.
Don’t turn around and look at her. Don’t do it.
All eyes locked on her, the commotion dying immediately. Shit, even Lucian gawked as everyone watched Lena come down the steps.
“Pain, give me my personal items,” she commanded.
Pain, who was actually Reys, complied. His eyebrows shot up into his hairline as he turned to collect her belongings.
The air in Dorian’s lungs became thick and suffocating. He gripped the banister to keep from reaching out to her. Lena walked through the throng of vampires, grabbed her things from Pain, and stormed out of the club. The door shut with a loud thud. Dorian thought he might burst into ashes on the stairs.
He heard whispering all around him and didn’t know how to handle it. He didn’t like being talking about. He hated being the focus of attention, even when he was executing someone. And he sure as shit didn’t want any of them staring at his mate or following her back to her hotel.
His protective instincts went haywire. The second he couldn’t see, hear, or smell her, every molecule in his body demanded he hunt her down and possess her. Mark her.
Keep. Her. With. Him.
A roar ripped from his throat. His body engaged, poised to chase.
A blaze burned down the marrow in his bones. His vision hazed red. Dorian was vaguely aware of what was happening. His focus was solely on getting through the front door and to his mate.
“Dorian, stop!”
He took a step. Then another.
“We’re losing him!” Lucian yelled.
Dorian looked down at his arms, convinced they were on fire. Instead, he couldn’t find them at all. Lucian had pinned them behind Dorian’s back and started moving him away at a fast pace.
The world flipped and he was suddenly staring at the ceiling, everything a blur of motion and sound until it all went black.
Lena had never done a walk of shame before, and she sure as hell wasn’t going to start tonight. When Reaper left her in that bedroom, a hurricane of emotions tore through her, which made zero sense. Intrigue, lust, anger, resentment, hunger—they spun in her mind, demolishing her common sense completely. But disappointment was the biggest emotion, and she used it to fuel her footsteps out of the room, down the steps, and out the door.
Everyone in the club seemed to be positioned somewhere between her and the exit, all watching with strange looks on their faces.
Maybe she was the first guest to leave without satisfaction. Maybe her host was going to get fired for leaving her hanging high and dry.
Her skin crawled when she looked at some of the staff when she passed by. Their fangs were out, some held anger in their gaze. Others looked bewildered. Most looked scared shitless. Or confused? Or… hungry? She didn’t care. She just wanted to get out of there as fast as possible.
The worse part about this night wasn’t that it ended so fast… it was that it ended with her assigned host so fast.
Reaper.
How could a man elicit so many volatile emotions out of her in a matter of minutes?
Talk about hot and cold. One minute he looked like he wanted to eat her up, the next, he looked disgusted and terrified.
Maybe that’s why they insisted on the blindfold. Didn’t Pain say the host takes that off when they deemed the guest ready? Had she prematurely unveiled herself and tipped the balance of their night?
Tough shit.