Page 30 of His Darkest Desire
His gaze dipped, and his eyes widened. One of her breasts had come free of the blanket, its soft flesh and rosy nipple bared to him, beckoning him.
With a glare, she tugged the blanket up, plopped back down, and crossed her arms over her chest. Her bottom lip stuck out in a pout, tempting Vex to lean closer and nip it with a fang, to draw it into his mouth and suck.
That desire, however small and seemingly innocuous, unsettled him. He’d never been one to harbor such desires. Even before the queen, he’d been focused solely on his work. His rare dalliances had been brief and unsatisfying, and he’d ultimately considered them wastes of time. They’d been moments of weakness. Itches he’d needed to scratch.
Whatever she’d stirred in him was more potent than anything before. It was beyond his control. Where there had only been a void, there now existed blossoming desire. And he wanted to feel that desire.
Satisfied that Kinsley would not attempt another escape, Vex turned his attention to the table. Though starvation could not kill him, it would weaken him over time, and he’d not eaten in some time either. He’d been too…preoccupied.
Though the ley lines offered an unending stream of mana from which to draw, conjuring aught from nothingness required concentration and strength of will, and oft proved taxing. Yet in this instance, the use of energy was justified.
And he wanted to provide for his human. Through their pact—and his lifeforce—she was his mate, but this went beyond their agreement. It was almost…instinctual. His female hungered, and it was his duty to feed her. She was his ward, his charge, his future, his—
Enough. I must concentrate on the task at hand.
Trusting the wisps to maintain their vigilance, Vex bent his will toward the act of shaping, toward wrestling physical form from the ether. Tendrils of green magic swirled outward along the table, with more flowing behind him to form sets of hands that floated off to gather plates and utensils from the cupboards.
Food coalesced before Kinsley. Roasted tubers and carrots, fresh bread, butter, a large wedge of cheese, soup with leeks, onions, and kale, and a roasted pheasant.
Eyes rounded and jaw agape, Kinsley watched the meal materialize.
Vex smirked. “While your mouth is hanging open, mortal, eat.”
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Despite everything Kinsley had experienced over the last couple of days, she couldn’t believe what she’d just witnessed. The food before her looked real enough to touch, real enough that she could smell it—the sweet, yeasty fragrance of freshly baked bread, the spices on the potatoes and carrots, and the savory aroma of juicy meat.
Yet the way it had appeared… It reminded her of a movie she’d seen as a kid, Hook, where the Lost Boys literally imagined their food into existence.
“This is all real?” Kinsley asked, touching the breast of the roasted bird. She’d half expected her finger to pass through the pheasant, like it was a hologram or a mirage, but it didn’t. The bird was solid and hot.
Her captor let out a soft sigh. “I was under the impression that eating involved putting food into your mouth, not letting words spill out of it.”
She looked up at him. “You just conjured a whole meal out of thin air.”
His brows ticked down toward the bridge of his nose. “I will forgive that gross oversimplification if you cease your questions and eat.”
She leaned back as a pair of ghostly hands floated in front of her and set down a plate, a bowl, and utensils before her. Another pair brought a pitcher of water and two wooden cups.
Kinsley blinked at it all. “You’re so bossy.”
“And you are quite human.” He gestured at the food with a long-fingered hand before tugging out the other chair, sweeping back the bottom of his tunic, and sitting down.
Choosing not to respond to the way he’d said human as an insult, Kinsley eyed him warily. “So you’re staying.”
He tore off a chunk of bread, drawing her attention to the claws on the ends of his fingers. “I produced this fare. Is it not my right to partake of it?”
“I didn’t say you couldn’t. I guess I just figured you wouldn’t want to sit and eat with a lowly mortal.”
Plucking a knife from the table, he scooped up a pat of butter and spread it on the bread, his movements as graceful as they were aggressive. “I do not. Yet unpleasantness is oft unavoidable.”
He extended his arm and dropped the buttered bread onto her plate. “Eat.”
“If you tell me to eat one more time, I’m going to—”
Those crimson eyes narrowed in a glare, daring her to finish her threat.
Wrinkling her nose, Kinsley picked up the bread and took a bite. The creamy butter melting atop the warm, soft bread was heaven in her mouth. She took another bite before she’d even swallowed the first.