Page 17 of Crimson Mate
He's not wrong. Thanks to my very powerful, very ancient, and very noble bloodline, I was born with the unique ability to move things with my mind. I can lift him right now with just a thought, perhaps send him flying into the target just for the fun of it.
The thought makes me smirk a little, but I refrain.
“I don't like to rely solely on my powers,” I explain as I walk toward the target, retrieving the blades and bringing them back to the table.
Zachariah tracks my every step.
“In this modern age, there are too many things that can nullify them. If they're ever stripped from me, I want to be able to handle myself without them.”
“Impressive,” he says, smiling down at me, looking at me as if I'm the only thing in the world that matters.
And I hate that everything inside me perks up at his praise, my entire soul arching and begging for more.
It's unfair.
The way he looks, smells…the way he makes me feel.
It's absolutelyunfair.
“Is there a reason you're here?” I ask, diving right back into the irritation and iciness that I hope will protect me in the end.
The line of his jaw goes rigid and there's a debate in his eyes like he might say something else, but he only blows out of breath. “The hunters and I are about to go track down a lead on another nest.”
Apprehension grips me.
I shouldn't be worried about him, shouldn't have a care in the world about him when it comes to his safety, but that concern is right there in the center of my heart, nonetheless.
“You don't owe me anything,” I say, clinging to that coldness. “You don't have to run your itinerary by me.”
Zachariah tips his head, looking at the ceiling high above in the assassin's training room like he's searching for patience there. “I'm not running anything by you,” he says, looking back down at me. “I'm asking you to come with us.”
I arch a brow, tilting my head at him. “Oh, so modern times have enlightened you to allow women into your all-boys club?”
“Naturally,” he says like he's choosing his words very carefully. “And I know you'll go out on your own anyway. You might as well have the full force of the hunters at your back.”
I can't stop the small smile from shaping my lips, nor can I stop myself from taking a step closer to him, addicted to his warmth, his scent…everything about him really. “Is that your way of saying you're worried about me, Zachariah?”
He lets his arms fall to his sides, his fingers just barely grazing the back of my hand, we stand so close to each other. My body aches in ways it's never ached before, my heart racing from just the sight of him.
“Always,” he says, his tone so much softer than it was moments before, and that cracks something in my cold, icy heart, warming it just enough that I allow my mind to wander. To fantasize.
To picture what might happen if I span the small distance between us, take his hand, and reach up for his mouth at the same time. He’d kiss me like he had at the auction, and then he wouldn't hesitate to wend us back to his quarters to finish what he started centuries ago. He’d peel my clothes off, slowly exploring every inch of my body before focusing on that needy spot between my thighs?—
“Are you going to come?”
I blink a few times, floundering in my own mind on how to respond to that. Then I’m firmly planted back in reality where he's asking me to go on a mission with him, not back to his bedroom.
I need to get a fucking grip.
“Of course, I'm coming,” I snap. “No one knows Conrad’s scent as well as I do.”
“Lovely,” he says, matching my energy. He extends his hand, and I hesitate only a few seconds before taking it. He doesn'tbother giving me a warning, his power folding us into time and space as he wends us away.
It's only a matter of moments before we land right next to his awaiting hunter brothers in what smells like lycan territory. Ajax and Talon and Dagon and Saint. They’re all there, looking like no time has passed at all.
Saint is the hardest to look at, knowing that when it came down to me or him, Zachariah chose him.
And honestly, I can't blame him for that.