She waited for him to speak. Waited some more. And to pass the time, she reminded herself that his upbringing had been a bitch and that remaining stoic and unyielding had been the only way to survive.
Except that rationale simply wasn’t enough. At some point, the love they had deserved better than silence that was grounded in the past.
“Was it Butch?” she said, hoping that was the case. At least if it was V’s best friend, she knew that any release had been incidental. Butch was a totally faithful guy to his mate and he would do any Doming only because it was the strange, dark medicine V needed to keep level. As bizarre as it sounded, that she could understand and get past.
“Was it?” she said. “Because I can deal with that.”
Vishous seemed momentarily surprised, but then he shook his head. “Nothing happened.”
“Then are you telling me I’m blind?” she croaked. “Because unless you give me a better explanation, all I have are these leathers . . . and the pictures in my mind that are making me sick.”
Silence, only silence.
“Oh, God . . . how could you?” she whispered.
V just shook his head, and said in the same tone, “Right back at you.”
Well, at least she had a reason for what had happened with Payne. And she hadn’t lied about it.
After a moment, V stepped into the room and picked up a duffel bag that was empty of his gym clothes. “Here. You’re going to need this.”
With that, he tossed it over . . . and walked away.
TWENTY-THREE
Down in the exam room, Payne’s healer was looking halfdead, but entirely happy with his partial demise.
As she waited for him to answer her question, she was rather more concerned with his condition than he was. His blood had been shockingly rich on her tongue, the dark wine slipping to the back of her throat and tunneling into her, flooding not just her gut but her whole body.
It was the first time she’d ever taken a vein at the neck. Chosen, when they were in the Sanctuary, required not the sustenance of blood, nor did they cycle through their needings. And that was when one wasn’t in suspended animation, as she had been.
And she barely remembered feeding from Wrath’s wrist.
Strange . . . the two bloods had tasted much the same, though the flavor of the king’s had been bolder.
“What is this coming?” she repeated.
Her healer cleared his throat. “It’s . . . ah, what happens when you’re into someone and you’re with them.”
“Show me.”
The laughter that came out of him was velvety and deep. “I would love to. Trust me.”
“Is it something I . . . can make you do?”
He coughed a little. “You already have.”
“Really?”
Her healer nodded slowly, his eyelids dropping low. “You most certainly did. So I need a shower.”
“And then you will show me.” It wasn’t a request; it was a demand. And as his arms tightened up on her, she had the sense he was aroused. “Yes,” she growled. “You shall show me everything.”
“I’ll so fucking do that,” he said darkly. “Everything.”
When he stared at her as if he knew secrets she couldn’t begin to guess at, she realized, even with the paralysis, that this was worth living for. This connection and excitement were worth more than her legs, and she had a sudden, stark terror that she had nearly missed this.
She had to thank her twin properly. But however could she balance this gift?