Chapter Nineteen

Cassandra

Cassandra felt dizzy.

“I shouldn’t have let things go so far.” She forced herself to watch his face fall, guilt coiling through her soul. “It was unfair of me to let this happen.”

“Why? If you care for me too, then why do you regret it so?”

“It’s not that easy.”

“Explain.” He took a step closer. She took a step back. More pain lanced across his beautiful features.

“I’m too busy with work for anything serious,” she snapped. Work was the only thing that she could control. Here was proof. The first budding relationship in years, and she’d Cass-ed it all up. “I can’t disappear here, hiding in this rotten castle with you. I just can’t.” The sad sound he made broke her heart. She knew she was the true coward when she looked away. “I’m sorry. You’ve been through so much, and I shouldn’t have taken advantage of you.”

“Taken advantage? Everything I’ve done, everything I have, I want to give to you. All of it. I want you to take this work and soar to new heights—”

“Don’t. Don’t do that. You want to give me the credit so that you can stay hidden. Not for some noble reason.” An especially cold breeze swept past. She hugged her arms around herself. “I’m not judging. I’m just saying, I can’t uproot everything to stay here.”

Her mouth was too dry to whistle at Zero. She walked to him and tugged gently on his collar. “Thank you for everything, Q. We’ll be going now, before I make things worse.”

Cass turned away, Zero on her tail.

She went room to room, gathering her things. She wasn’t sure why her hands were shaking. She’d meant every word. She wouldn’t live a life of lies. She shouldn’t have let things progress. And she did have feelings for him.

Fuck.

A selfish piece of her longed for him to take her the way he’d done those other times. With confidence and grace. The only times she’d seen him act without insecurity and hesitance outside of the lab, was when he coaxed her to let go. To surrender. Like he knew how tightly she held onto any semblance of control, even as it slipped right through her fingers. When he whispered things like, there’s nothing else you need to do right now but let go, the orgasms left her feeling light. Like she’d set down a backpack full of boulders. Ever since the first time, she’d longed to give him the same. Now she would never get the chance.

He was afraid to live life out in the open for good reason! His secret would break the world. Would break society. Should he decide to end his hiding, it would be a long, grueling process, and still he may never be accepted. Even if she promised to stand by him, it was too big of an ask. She wouldn’t do that to him.

As she gathered her things in the lab, she heard a rustle of wings. Her heart heaved an extra thump.

“Before you go,” he cleared his throat. He was close enough she could reach out and brush his gray skin, yet as distant as the far side of the galaxy. “Before you go, let me extract some venom.”

“Are you sure?”

He trudged to the smaller of the two back-up labs, never looking up from the floor. They hadn’t spent much time in this one, but she knew to follow him to the break between counters, beside the cabinet he stored extra vials in.

“Yes, but you must understand.” He came to an abrupt stop, his wings swishing together. “I haven’t drunk from a human in ages. I can’t guarantee I’ll be able to stop. That I won’t accidentally suck you dry. Or worse.”

Fear coursed through her as she considered both possibilities. It wasn’t the first time she’d thought about being Turned by him. She wouldn’t be as upset about being Turned, so long as she could see this through. As for the other possibility, well, she had to risk it. “All right. I understand. Thank you for doing this, Qadaire.”

“You were right. It could be helpful. I don’t know why I’ve resisted it all this time.”

“I do.” Sadness and guilt scraped her insides like sandpaper. He’d been used, tormented, neglected, cast aside. And here she was, using him and leaving him here, alone, again.

He turned around, looking lost. She surged forward to help, but something in his tortured stare made the gravity in the room intensify, rooting her to the spot. She diverted her attention to the way his bottom left hand leaned heavily onto the counter. He seemed reluctant as he met her gaze for a brief moment.

“I’ll need to pierce flesh and taste freshly exposed blood to coax out my venom.”

“Oh. That’s how you extract it?”

“Well.” He shoved a hand through his head feathers and down his black locks, clearly avoiding her again. “That or other stimulation. But there’s more.”

Her cheeks heated. She waited for him to continue.

“In order to isolate the healing agent, we must trick the venom into thinking this is a Turning. The first bite of a Turning preemptively injects it to prepare the body for the changes to come.”

“How?”

“You’ll need to drink some of my blood.” He continued to avoid looking at her. “Which is a strong aphrodisiac.”

Oh, shit. Nausea lurched in her stomach. Of fucking course it is. “Great.”

“You mustn’t drink much. And, as long as I’m sane”—he finally looked at her—“I promise not to allow anything to happen.”

“That implies I won’t be able to control myself,” she deadpanned. To her dismay, he gave her a curt nod. “Fantastic.”

“This must be done at relatively the same time.” He bit himself over a beaker and filled it to fifty ml with black blood. About the size of a shot of vodka. “Drink it when I pierce your skin.”

She took a bold step forward, accepted the beaker, and extended her arm wrist up.

“This might sting a pinch.” His pupils drifted to her nose, but no higher. He plucked vials from the stand on the counter and held one in both upper hands.

“I’m ready.”

He steadied her with his lower right hand on her hip, his lower left cradling her wrist like a wounded baby bird. Like it was precious. It reminded her of a lifetime ago, inside an impossible greenhouse.

He hesitated. Her wrist shrank in comparison to his strong jaw and the thick gray fingers curled around it. His cool breath breezed over her palm, then his fangs elongated, and she swore she saw them pulse before they sank into her skin.

A rush of something very, very cold chilled her bloodstream, the iciness spreading quickly outward until her whole hand was numb. She sucked an involuntary breath and threw back the shot of thick black liquid.

Qadaire pulled away with lightning speed, lifting the two vials under each fang. Cassandra’s frozen hand dropped like lead. She cradled it to her chest, rubbing it feverishly with her right, staring at the clear liquid streaming down the erotic curve of his teeth.

She rose heavy, hooded lids to Qadaire, whose pupils were dilated to the max.

Drip, drip, drip.

She was entranced by the sensual fluid seeping from his fangs. Her mouth filled with saliva, so much that she had to lick her dry lips. She couldn’t force herself to turn from the alluring stream as it drip, drip, dripped. She hauled her gaze up to his and caught the same hunger reflected there.

She was drunk. Groggy. And hopelessly empty.

She was hyper aware of all the places their bodies touched, including the firm hands on her waist holding her utterly still. She tried to roll her hips forward, to coax him to touch her more. She reached for the hem of his pants, her hands making decisions her brain wasn’t able to block. Her body slumped forward when the gray hands on her waist swiftly moved to prevent her from reaching the buttons. A low warble emitted from Qadaire’s throat, evoking memories where those warbles vibrated against her pussy, quaking through her. Those fucking delicious sounds, they’d appeared every time they came together. He wanted her. She knew it.

“Take me, Q.” Her voice sounded far away. “Take me. I know you want to.”

His noises darkened. He shifted her wrists together into one of his deft hands, and she buzzed with excitement, hoping that meant his free hand would whip out his cock and impale her on it. He didn’t. She heard the clinking of glass but couldn’t force her mind to give a fuck.

“Please, Q. Please. I need you to fill me.”

“Cassandra.” His voice was distorted, by her fogged brain or his own desire, or possibly from having his mouth hanging open. She wasn’t sure. But the hoarse timbre was further encouragement, and she leaned her weighty body forward. It was like wading through molasses, but she managed to rub herself against him.

“Oh, fuck, Q.” He was hard. She raised her knee to his hip and ground against his erection again. It was an impressive size and would surely fill her deliciously. She imagined if he pulled her down and shoved it in her mouth she would gag around it. She groaned and moved again, but this time, four strong hands stopped her. They spun her around and held her captive, making her whine in protest until she realized she could still feel his stiff cock against the seam of her ass. She moaned and bucked again, imagining him taking her from behind, bent over the steel table and rutting into her like a wild animal.

With a guttural groan and those goddamn noises still rumbling through him, he pushed her away. His sturdy grip kept her at arm’s length.

“Cassandra, find yourself.” His breath hitched, his dark tone like a beast’s. “I can’t take this torture much longer.”

At the loss of his hard body against hers, the need slowly began to fade.

“How . . . Much . . .” She struggled to speak without slurring her words. “Longer?”

“Any moment now.”

A few deep breaths later and she stepped away from his sturdy grasp with a clear mind. Now she was the one struggling to make eye contact as she helped seal up the vials.

“Thank you.” She forced herself to face him. “For everything. Seriously.”

“You’re still leaving?” His voice sounded rough, as though he’d been snacking on burning coals. The sadness in his wide pupils battered her soul. “You’re welcome.”

She wanted to reach for him, to say something reassuring. Wanted to stay and fight together until they reached the end of this journey. But she couldn’t make promises she didn’t know she could keep. The words died on her tongue, and then she was standing in an empty room.