Yes, he could lose himself in a book for a few hours while the sun rose and the wolves slept. That would be a useful way to occupy his time.
Bel turned to leave the kitchen again, but Wyatt was standing in the open doorway, watching him.
“What’s wrong?” Wyatt asked. Unlike River, there wasn’t the same wariness in his expression. Maybe just concern.
“Nothing. Everything is fine. I wanted to check on you and River. Make sure you were comfortable,” Bel quickly said and inwardly winced. Did that sound creepy? It probably sounded creepy and stalker-y. He hadn’t meant it like that.
Wyatt frowned and Bel dropped his eyes, turning toward the center island. He traced his fingers along the marble, waiting for Wyatt to bark at him to stay away from him and River.
“Bel,” Wyatt started again, his voice incredibly gentle despite its deepness. “Are you hungry? Do you need to feed?”
Bel’s head snapped up, and his mouth fell open in a kind of soundless horror. When he could pull his thoughts away from a disturbing mix of revulsion and longing, he said, “God, no! I wouldn’t—couldn’t…you’re my guest. I would never.”
Wyatt said nothing for several seconds, only stared at him with dark eyes that seemed to see too much. Bel quickly looked down at the counter. It was the safest place when Wyatt blocked his only exit.
The werewolf stepped closer, and it was a struggle to not retreat a step for each of his.
“You could, though.” Wyatt’s voice had become a rough whisper. Thick with sleep and something Bel couldn’t put a name to. “If we became your wolves, you could feed from us any time you wished. You wouldn’t hurt us.”
“No. Absolutely not. Especially if you were…mine.” His words had started strong but faded at the end.
“Why?”
Bel sighed and shook his head. “I take too much now that is not freely offered. I try to help those I don’t give a choice. Usually with a bit of money in exchange for their blood. My brother Marcus prefers to hunt criminals to assuage his conscience. Rafe pays in sex and pleasure. Of course, with Philippe in his life, I’m sure he’s found another viable exchange. And Winter…” He sighed again. “I don’t even know what Winter does anymore. I don’t want to take from you because you feel it is owed to me.”
Wyatt closed the distance between them until Bel could feel the heat falling off him in thick waves. The werewolf stood several inches taller than him, placing his throat right at the level of Bel’s lips. He hadn’t felt a single pang of hunger before, but it was as if Wyatt had placed that insidious longing in his head.
“What if I begged you?” Wyatt whispered. “Would you prefer that?” His mouth was so close to Bel’s ear, he could feel the brush disturbing some strands of hair.
Bel closed his eyes and shuddered. He’d been right about Wyatt’s smell. Hints of sleep, soap, and River wafted from him, but it was all laced with the deep, haunting scent of Wyatt. Bel wanted to press his face against his throat and just wrap himself in all that. The longing pulsing through him was so sharp, his body was trembling. His fangs ached.
But there was an underlying sense of anxiety running through Wyatt that helped to keep Bel’s urges under control. Was he offering only because he thought it was expected of him? Was this the wolf trying to be the perfect servant, doing anything to see to his master’s needs? This wasn’t what Bel wanted at all.
God, yes he was tempted. Everything about Wyatt and River tempted, not that he could understand it. He’d seen plenty of attractive men in his long lifetime, but this was so much more.
Yet, it was damn complicated, because he wanted Wyatt to want him freely. Not out of some sick obligation to protect his life and River’s.
“I can’t.” Bel forced out those two broken words, not caring what Wyatt thought of his crumbling will. “You and River deserve better.”
Wyatt took a step back and very slowly lifted his hand. Fingers grazed his cheek for only a second and then returned to his side. Bel looked up to find the man smiling at him while a strange look of confusion filled his eyes. “I think we have found better.”
Bel wasn’t sure what to say to that. Luckily, he was saved by the chiming of his phone again. He jumped and frantically grabbed it from his pocket, rushing to silence the noise.
“What’s that?”
“Just a reminder,” Bel muttered.
“For an experiment?” Wyatt asked. There was a hint of amusement but also interest.
But before Bel could reply, the shades started to fall over the handful of windows in the kitchen, deepening some of the shadows. He looked up to find Wyatt watching them in fascination. His sharp eyes suddenly jumped to Bel.