Page 15 of The Lost Siren
“Like I said,kinky,siren.”
I jerked, jumping back from Ronan as Benedict strolled into the room. I hissed in pain as Ronan’s fang bit down on my finger, and I snatched it back to my chest. Blood trailed down my hand, and when I looked up the three of them were frozen, eyes trained on the blood.
“What—"
Benedict slammed into Ronan, knocking him to the floor as he pounced directly at me. I grabbed the knives, holding them up in my uninjured hand as Kieran eyed me warily.
“You going to jump me too?”
He shook his head frantically back and forth, but it was clear he was fighting off whatever his instincts were telling him.
“GET OUT!” Benedict roared, and both practically tripped over each other as they scrambled for the hallway. Benedict growled until they left, then grunted at nothing. He gestured for me to come over.
“Let me see.”
Still afraid, I gripped the knife tighter, and backed away. He growled.
“You hardly temptme.Let me see.”
His cruel remarks sapped my will to fight, and I took a tentative step forward. He snatched my hand, examining it critically. I wanted to say something smart, to test the boundaries of my freedom here.
“You could be lessrudeabout it,” I sniped, my pulse racing at my own defiance. He frowned at me, then bent down to examine my finger without another word.
“The wound is deeper than I thought, but not terrible. Outside the mountain you would likely need stitches.”
I snorted; stitches weren’t wasted on slaves. His purple eyes lifted to mine, no anger present at my outburst. He meant it then; I could speak freely here.
“Don’t you have any more of those healing vials of yours?” I asked instead, aiming for a more polite tone.
“You drank them all,” he replied, ignoring my tone. “And unless you want to drink anymore of my blood fresh from the source, hold still.”
My face twisted in horror and realization. Was that what he had given me to drink last night to heal my concussion, and my back before that? Hisblood? The corners of his lips lifted, and I stonily looked away.
“That’s what I thought.” He brought my hand to his face, and without warning licked the entire length of the wound on my finger. I grimaced in pain and shock, but just as quickly a dull numbness spread through my body, and I sighed in relief. His tongue felt hot and rough against my skin, and I stared at the floor to hide my blush. His face changed as my blood met his lips, and it was a look of such bafflement that I jerked my hand away, only half-healed.
“That bad, huh?”
He scowled at me and seized me around the waist, pulling me back.
“I thought you hated me. Why bother healing me at all?” An annoyed expression crossed his face, and he pinched the bridge of his nose with one hand.
“If you’d rather heal thehumanway, be my guest. We have no medicines or any other such nonsense, so it’s a gamble if you end up dying from infection or not.”
“You’re horrible,” I shot back. His grip around my waist tightened.
“You don’t even know thedefinition. Now stand there,shut up, and let me lick you.”
He drew my finger into his mouth again, and I shivered at the sensation. It wasimpossiblenot to compare it to Ronan when the positions were almost exactly the same. Goosebumps erupted all over my body, and a delightful tingle raced straight to the area between my legs. I shoved it firmly down, refusing to analyze it. After a moment he pulled away with some effort, and I could breathe again.
“There.” I looked down, in awe of the unblemished skin across my finger.
“T-thank you,” I mumbled, even as he rolled his eyes and began unstrapping something from around his thigh. He slammed the small bit of leather onto the table.
“At least put your daggers in these sheaths, so we don’t have a repeat performance.” His sudden anger didn’t make any sense, so I latched onto the only thing that did.
“Youcan’tbe jealous; you’ve been nasty this whole time until you healed me.”
I didn’t even see him move; one moment he was glaring at me, the next he was in my face, nose-to-nose. I took a step back, but his large hands held me tightly.