Page 29 of Crimson Shifter
CHAPTER 10
Cassandra
“You know, you're really quite lucky that no one from the Wrights’ bloodline is questioning the sudden disappearance of their first-born son,” Mother said, sitting across from me at her favorite little table set up on the balcony of the highest level of the estate.
Like always, the island was beautiful, the sounds of life reaching us even here.
I glanced down to Talon at my side, stroking his fur and trying not to smile so widely at the purr he gave me. “I said no three times,” I said to Mother. “Shadow was just doing her duty. Any male stupid enough to not realize that Shadow is a protective animal doesn't deserve to live.” I managed to say the words without a hint of remorse, seeing as the vampire in question had intended to have his way with me with no concern for my desire at all.
So completely different than how Talon had had his way with me, which I had enthusiastically consented to.
And would absolutely do so again.
Then. Now. Anytime in the future.
A bolt of worry zapped down the center of me, concern flooding my instincts as I agonized over just how damngoodit had been between us.
Did that mean something more?
Did all the little details that’d been hanging me up and taking residence inside my heart lately mean something more?
Or was it simply the fact that we were on this mission together, locked in an estate we both hated, unable to get away from each other and sharing blood on top of it? I’d been so used to rejection, I wasn't sure what acceptance or true desire actually felt like.
“Still,” Mother said, her eyes falling to where Talon had his head in my lap, me stroking him in long, lazy waves. “It could’ve been quite the scandal, especially if it was a worthwhile match,” she said with more emphasis.
I held her gaze for a few moments before realizing she was waiting for me to respond with the correct answer.
“Of course I wouldn't have saidnoto a proper match,” I said, the words tasting bitter in my mouth. I had no intention of sayingyesto anyone except for the panther that was purring in my lap, nuzzling me in a way that was incredibly suggestive. In a way my actual panther would never do.
It was making it incredibly hard to concentrate.
I shifted in my seat, and Talon blew out of breath that sounded a lot like a huff as he shifted lower, sprawling out at my feet beneath the table, his tail switching back and forth over my bare legs thanks to the short sun dress I wore. The island really was so gods-awfully hot, even at night.
That's why I took Talon to my father's secret rendezvous spot, knowing a delightfully cool dip in the crisp water was exactly what the two of us needed. Had I known that little endeavor would lead us to where it did, I likely would have taken him day one.
Yeah, he was that fucking good.
Maybe it was just because he was a thousand-year-old Viking hunter vampire who had enough experience to know how to make my body sing. Maybe that's all it came down to. I didn't care. It’d felt good to be consumed by someone enough that I forgot anything else existed outside of us.
Even now, I wanted to go back. I wanted to run to that warded-off section of paradise, taking Talon with me and never looking back.
I wanted to lose myself in that moment forever. I didn't even feel bad for wanting that.
One, because I knew it would never happen, and two, because I knew I was more afraid of the unknown than I was of indulging myself in ridiculous little fantasies. Because when we did finish this mission and made our way back to the king's residence, who would we be to each other then?
Friends didn't seem accurate, especially because I didn't even know if wewerefriends now.
Would he go back to sending vicious little barbs my way every time he saw me at evening repast? Would he withdraw every gentle or claiming touch he'd giving me since we got here?
I hated thinking about it. So I forced it out of my mind and did my best to focus on my mother.
“Do you even know who a proper match would be?” she asked, sipping from her third glass of blood.
I'd only been able to manage a few swallows of the glass she’d poured me, something about it tasting so dreadfully awful compared to drinking Talon’s.
“Perhaps you could enlighten me,” I said, and she flashed me a warning look at the little slip in attitude.
“I have my ideas,” she said. “But you know, as our traditions go, the head male has final say over that pairing.”