Chapter 16

ChapterSixteen

Gods forbid his little pet was bored.

Gluttony was a fool. He absolutely should not have given in to her request. Namely, because having her this close to him, in his space, did things to his head that he wasn’t proud of.

Like how a voice whispered that he could still smell other people on her skin. That maybe if he just rubbed his face against the crook of her neck, where most women would put perfume, then he could make her smell like him. And then he could run his tongue up that lovely column, feeling her heart beat against his lips when he sank his teeth into her throat. Drinking from her? He knew that would be as close to holy as he would ever experience.

And yet, another part of him realized these thoughts were foolish. He would never be anyone to her other than a monster. This was why he’d been treating her like royalty. She had food, time to herself, space away from the beast that demanded so much from her.

But if she wanted to sacrifice her time to him as well... He was too weak to resist.

Giving her new clothing had been, in part, a distraction. He needed time to get his head on straight and prepare himself for her nearness. The longer he was in her presence, the more it was likely he would beg for more than a taste of her blood.

His fangs already ached. His claws wouldn’t go back into his fingers because they wanted to touch her one more time. The desire to drag the tips along her freckled skin consumed him. What would she do if he touched her like that?

Would that lovely, lily white skin pebble with bumps? Would she shiver in anticipation at what he would do next?

Of course she wouldn’t, he reminded himself as he put the beakers back in their places. She would shudder in disgust because a monster dared to touch her. That was what she would do. He had no reason to think she would do anything otherwise.

Sighing, he shook his head to clear it of all those terrible thoughts. She only wanted to feel useful. As anyone else would wish to do.

The door to his laboratory opened—this time he heard it just fine—and she approached him, already muttering. “The man thinks my clothes would get in the way? What does he think this will do?”

He’d given her some of his own clothing to wear. Just a plain white peasant shirt and some pants that would cover her legs. Her skirts would have gotten in the way. She could so easily trip over them, or knock into a table. It was easier to wear pants here, and much easier to be able to roll her sleeves up. They were in a lab, not some silly human house, where they tried their best to heal people.

This was real work. Not just stitching.

But then he turned around, and all thoughts fled from his mind. His clothing swallowed her up. Entirely. She could have just worn his shirt and belted it around the waist, and it would have been perfectly fine to wear. The sleeves came down so far over her hands that he couldn’t guess even where they were. The pants fared better, or at least he assumed so. They weren’t down around her ankles, although they were bunched up at the bottoms since they were so long.

A soft smile crossed his face before he could catch himself. “Ah,” he breathed, then gestured for her to come closer. “Those are much too large for you.”

“And you think they would be better in a laboratory? You realize I’m going to set this on fire if I lean forward at all?”

That smile refused to leave his face. Even though that was a terrifying situation to imagine, she was just so... adorable. All flustered and angry with him, with clothing that was far too big for her.

“Come here,” he said, gesturing for her to approach him where he sat on his stool.

And when she stood between his legs, he was shocked to realize she was only barely taller than him while he was seated. How was he only now realizing how short she was? How small?

It made him want to wrap her up in his arms and tuck her away for good, but he could already see the fire in her gaze, like she knew what he was thinking. Like she dared him to say that she was small or needed to be taken care of.

So instead, he reached for her sleeve and tugged her a step closer. “We don’t wear these down,” he said, gently rolling them a few times before he discovered her hand. “Roll them up until they’re above your elbow, pet, then you won’t have to worry about the fire.”

He settled into the pattern of rolling fabric and making sure she was all right. And in doing so, he realized how easy it was to just... be with her. There was no difficulty, no nervousness, no awkward feelings of whether or not he was messing this up or doing it in a way that made her uncomfortable. None of that.

She just stood there, watching him roll her sleeves with a soft expression on her face. And when he looked at her, his red eyes flicking up to her green, he wondered what she was thinking. Why she was looking at him as though she wanted to touch him, to lean in and press her lips to his own so he could feel how sweet it was to be thanked by her.

Katherine cleared her throat and took a step back. “Right. Well, thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

He sat there, just looking at her. He wasn’t afraid to do so, obviously, considering he’d stalked her for weeks before this moment. But he’d never noticed how the light could sparkle in her eyes, or how she stood with most of her weight on one hip. It tilted her body in a lovely curve, on display for his eyes if he so wished to let them linger on her curves.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” she asked.

“Like what?”

“Like you do when you wake me up in the middle of the night.” She brushed a stray curl behind her ear. “I could... If you wanted to...”

The poor dear really thought he was hungry all the time, didn’t she? He was, he was ashamed to admit. Gluttony would feast upon her if she offered it, but he knew she didn’t want him to. She only offered because she didn’t know what to do with his eyes on her like this, and he was ruining it.

He turned his back to her and put his attention back on the table. “Ah, pet, there’s no need for that. My nightly visits are more than enough.”

“Are they really?”

Her words seared through him.

No.

They weren’t.

They would never be enough because what he wanted was to be buried so deep between her thighs that he couldn’t tell where he ended and where she began. He wanted to hear her whimpers in his ears, echoing with every one of his thrusts as he drank deeply from her neck, her breast, between her thighs. He wanted to be so covered in her that his sensitive nose would know where she was everywhere in his kingdom. No matter how far she ran.

But he couldn’t tell her any of that. He’d terrify her. She would run off to one of his brothers and only reiterate that he’d lost his mind. That he wasn’t safe for any of his people to be around.

So he reached for a beaker and he did not respond to that question. Instead, he blindly held it out for her to take. “Hold this.”

A pale hand reached past his shoulder and he could almost feel her against his back. A sudden desire flushed through him, turning his cheeks bright red. It wasn’t even that he wanted her blood, but he wanted to know what it would feel like to wake with her pressed against his back like that.

Would she be limp and quiet, like she was in the middle of the night? He’d wake, the sunlight playing across his face in a rare moment when they could actually see the sun. Her warmth spread across his back, her face pressed right between his shoulder blades as though she fit against him like a puzzle piece.

Warmth. When was the last time he’d woken and been warm?

She held onto the beaker and gave the liquid inside a little swish. “What is this?”

Breaking himself out of this strange melancholy, he looked over at what he’d handed her. “Sweet vitriol, it’s, uh—”

“Sulfuric acid and wine,” she supplied, swishing it again. “Why am I holding it?”

“So you have something to do.”

To his complete and utter shock, she gave him a gentle smack to the back of his head. “Don’t be sassy. Answer the question.”

“That is the real reason,” he replied with a soft chuckle. He ran a hand over the back of his head as if she could ever really hurt him, before turning back to his table. “I am uncertain what this substance is, and it’s been fighting with me every step of the way.”

“The black smoke?”

He nodded, trying to get his head back into the same place it usually was. Clear-headed. Capable of seeing straight through any material and knowing what was in it. But this smoke continued to evade him.

“Have you considered it may be magical in origin?”

“I’ve tried all the spells that I know of, and my brothers are also researching it.” Too much information, he reminded himself. She didn’t need to know what it was. She only needed to have something to do.

With that in mind, he picked up a pair of metal tongs and handed them to her as well.

“So it’s definitely not magical, then?” She moved, leaning past him to pick up another beaker and organizing them next to each other. To his surprise, she had organized them correctly. Both of them were magical in origin, spells that he’d funneled into beakers before they overheated the glass. “You aren’t lacking in knowledge that’s holding this endeavor back, I assume?”

“You truly enjoy thinking the worst of me.”

“I’m merely asking if you missed something, that’s all.” She smiled at him and he felt like the entire ceiling had ripped open and let the sun pour in. “I often watched the alchemists when they came into the almshouse. They were quite certain they always knew the correct answer to every question they had, but I often thought perhaps they were missing things.”

“Such as?”

“How human bodies work. How people think. What they should consider when they were trying to cure a person’s sickness. Most of the times they thought they knew what was wrong long before they even spoke to a patient. It was frustrating for the sick person, who often had an idea of what might be wrong. And instead, they were told they were wrong without the alchemist or healer even asking how they felt. It often delayed the healing process considerably.” A tiny wrinkle appeared on her brow.

He paused again, curiosity peaking from her expression. “And you thought you knew better?”

“I was certain I did.” Then she bit her lip and shrugged. “In most cases, at least. Sometimes they were right. But when they were wrong, it was always to the detriment of the patient.”

“Interesting.”

And it really was. She had become an object in his mind, an obsession. And honestly, he would have seen none of her flaws even if she waved them in front of his face. He would take them all. Beat him, try to murder him in his sleep, shove a knife in his throat. He didn’t care what she did to him as long as he could drink from her veins.

But now, he was faced with the reality of an actual person. A thinking, breathing, intelligent woman who tempted him more than he’d realized possible.

Katherine’s brows drew down again, and her glare seared right through him. “You’re looking at me like that again.”

“I...” He cleared his throat and turned his attention back to the table. “You are surprising, pet.”

“Am I?”

“Most women who come here have no interest in learning anything about the castle or myself. They had their desires. I gave them what they wanted in exchange for my own desires. I am... I find it difficult to know what to say or do with you.” Speaking of which, he handed her a small glass vial that was empty but didn’t need to be on his table.

She took that as well and then rearranged it on a table nearby. It was so easy for her to see where to put things, and even the tongs had gone to the waistband of her pants as though she was well aware that he’d need them again soon enough.

“I see,” she replied, when she reached his side again. “It’s rather difficult to speak with people and have them in your space when you’ve never had that before. Is that it?”

“That is part of it.” The other part was how badly he had to focus to not stare at the throbbing pulse at her neck, but he supposed she didn’t need to hear that.

“Then I don’t wish to distract you any further from your work. I can find something else to do in this giant castle.”

She moved to take the tongs out of her waistband, but he stopped her with a hand around her wrist. Holding her in place so she didn’t... Just didn’t.

He swallowed hard. “You don’t need to do that. It’s rather nice to have someone else around. I don’t mind it.”

“But it makes you uncomfortable.”

He stared up into those bright eyes and felt himself shatter a little. He didn’t want to be alone anymore. Couldn’t she see that? Even though he knew he and his brothers were monsters, and they had single-handedly ruined this entire realm, and torn apart the kingdoms, so they would never come back together again... He only wished he deserved an ounce of her attention.

“You make me nervous.” He shook his head and started again. “Stay. Please.”

Could she see inside his head? She stared at him as though she could, peering through the very vestiges of his soul before she nodded. “If you’d like the company, I can stay.”

Relief made him a little light-headed. With a clawed finger—when had those come out again?—he pointed to another table that was mostly empty of dangerous substances. “You can start there. I can already see you’re much better at organizing than I am.”

“I’d rather see if I can make something blow up.”

The strange spell she’d weaved around him shattered. Chuckling, he shook his head and turned back to his own project. “I imagine you would, pet. I imagine you would.”

And so they spent the rest of the afternoon in relative silence. But he could hear her. Humming underneath her breath as she tackled the arduous and rather impossible task of organizing his laboratory.

For an afternoon, he didn’t feel quite so alone. Gluttony feared he could get used to this.