Dark Need (House of Sin 3)
I shudder at the thought. “No thanks.”
I stay far away from him. Not because I’m scared—well, technically I am—but more because I just can’t handle looking at him when he’s eating those things.
“They’re sweet,” he says. “Like candy.”
“Candy?” I scoff, snorting. “I doubt that.”
“How would you know?”
It takes me a while to form a response. “Look, I know what candy is. I used to make sweet things. This ain’t it.”
A hint of a smile quirks up his lips—quite a sexy smile too—and it catches me off guard.
“You make candy?”
“Not candy. Cakes. And I used to,” I mutter under my breath, forcing myself not to look at him because he definitely isn’t supposed to be sexy. “But I was taken, and now look at where we’re at.”
“Hmm …”
The low, rumbling sounds emanating from deep within his chest set off all kinds of unwanted feelings I have no room for.
“Look, can’t we just hunt for food or something? You know, there must be a rabbit here somewhere.”
He frowns, not in an angry way, but in a surprised way. Like he just took offense to what I said. “No.”
“Why not? Unless you have some food hidden in that bag of yours, we’re going to need more than mushrooms and ants to survive. Meat can fix that problem.”
He looks me dead in the eyes with a razor-sharp gaze. “I hunt people. Not animals.”
My brows furrow as I’m flabbergasted by his response. “What do you mean? Those ants you were eating just now are animals too.”
He shrugs and looks away. “That’s different.”
I snort. “No, it’s not. And what about the bacon you ate at the house?”
“The pig was already slaughtered. Might as well eat it.”
I make a face. “That doesn’t even make sense. You’re just willing to make an exception because it’s a cute little bunny. Admit it.” I laugh a little when he ignores me. “This is ridiculous.”
He stands up and glares down at me from his towering height, and all of a sudden, I feel tiny as hell.
“Are you calling me names now?”
I stare up at him. “No. I just think it’s odd you’d make a distinction. That’s all.”
His nostrils flare. “Some life is worth more than others.”
I narrow my eyes, confused as he walks off. “That’s not true at all.”
But he ignores me and starts picking up more mushrooms and herbs from the ground. Great.
Soren
I can’t believe she would equate some ants with rabbits. And then to deny the mushrooms I gave her. What is going on with that woman?
She’s hungry, but she refuses the food I give her and then lambasts me for choosing what to eat. At least I’m not going hungry.
I grumble to myself as I pick the herbs off the ground and hand them to her.
“Eat.”
She looks down at her hands. “Are these even … edible?”
“Yes.”
“How do you know?”
“I was taught,” I reply.
I don’t want to make this a bigger deal than it is, but she keeps nagging me about everything, and it pisses me off. But we can’t continue until she’s at least eaten something. She was so pale she looked like she was about to drop to the ground. Can’t have this woman faint on me. I can carry her for a while, but I can’t carry her the entire way.
“Where? When?”
I roll my eyes and sigh. “When I was younger. Does it matter?”
“Yeah. They don’t teach this in the schools at the place where I’m from,” she replies, picking up one of the herbs and staring at it like it’s some kind of alien plant.
I don’t respond. She’s fishing for something, and I don’t like where this is going.
“Eat,” I repeat, hoping it’ll shut her up.
Instead, she asks, “So, where are you from?”
“The House,” I snap.
This is really getting on my nerves now, and I have no patience for a woman too curious for her own good.
“I mean, before that,” she says.
I turn my head to her and throw her a dirty look. I don’t like her digging around in my past. “Does it matter?”
She just raises her brows and sighs. Then she puts one of the mushrooms in her mouth and chews reluctantly. Swallowing seems to take a great deal out of her, and I can’t help but notice how her throat moves with every gulp, her chest rising and falling with every breath she takes.
I force myself to look away before my mind goes off somewhere it’s not supposed to be.
“Let’s go,” I say, and I unfurl the rope from the tree.
“But I’m not finished—”
“Eat while we’re walking,” I retort as I grab my bag and start walking.
She gets up, and by the looks of it, she can walk fine, so her ankle must feel better too.
Good. We’ve wasted enough time.
“Fine,” she responds as I tie the rope to my waist so she follows me. “But if I’m walking and eating these things, I wanna know more about you.”