Page 43 of His Eternal Temptation

His distraction was unacceptable. You’re so useless, that evil voice said, making Rowan desperate for his usual control. For distance. It was how he functioned.

“Fucking doesn’t mean I want a heart-to-heart,” he snapped, and instantly regretted his rudeness.

It wasn’t even true. He wanted Lane close in every way, his resistance crumbling. Lashing out was all he had left. Provoking Lane until he realized Rowan was too much work and gave up, proving he only wanted Rowan when neediness was hot. A sexy little game and not real.

“Sex doesn’t mean you have to share, but you don’t seem okay, Rowan. I’d ask regardless of what happened this morning.”

Would he really? He wanted Rowan to dump his problems on him? His emotions? To take care outside of play?

Cris’s cruel words were too fresh in his mind to believe it.

“Drinking blood isn’t sating my hunger,” Rowan ground out.

“Is that all?”

I feel like my sire is just out of sight, waiting to punish me. I feel alone, and the boundaries that used to comfort me are causing pain. I want something I told myself it wasn’t safe to have. “Yes.”

Lane put a hand on his shoulder. “Rowan, I know I have no right to make demands, but you can talk to me.”

There was a sharp knock at the door. Lane took a step away, his hand falling, and Rowan wanted to snatch it back.

Cecile strode in and stopped short at the sight of them. “Rowan…you don’t look yourself.”

He forced a neutral expression. “I’m fine. What is it?”

“Fine, my ass.”

“Cecile.” His voice came out sharper than he’d ever been with her, and his gut twisted.

She raised a brow. “I’ve changed my mind about coming in here.”

Rowan stood, his eyes glowing without permission, and the words he’d been about to say died on his lips. Shit.

Alarm flashed across Cecile’s fine features. “Rowan. What’s happening to you?”

“This curse.” He took a breath, grasping for control. “I’m hungry.”

“Wait here.” She darted out of the room at vampire speed and returned moments later with a cooler. “Feed until you can’t force another drop. Never mind why I came in. It’s handled. I’ll update you later.” Her attention landed on Lane. “Are you all right alone in here?”

“Rowan won’t hurt me. I’m fine,” he said as if he had any authority on the matter.

“I’ll trust your word, but call out if you need someone.” Cecile nodded to Rowan and left, closing the door on her way out.

Rowan wanted to rush after her and see what the problem was. To help. But he wasn’t the kind of leader who disregarded his coven, and he was no help to anyone right now.

He went to the cooler, and thankfully, Lane kept quiet as he worked his way through three blood bags. As he drained the last, the anger gripping him faded. Another glass, and he couldn’t force another swallow. He was full.

Thank fuck. He sagged against the couch cushions. The memory of his sire lingered, but it was bearable. He could breathe.

Lane perched beside him. “Better?”

“Yes. I’m sorry for talking to you that way.”

“No harm done.”

Rowan closed his eyes in relief. He believed Lane meant it, which tempted him to take this further. Perhaps Lane could be what he needed, not just sexually, but in everything. Maybe rejection wasn’t inevitable.

He’d guarded his independence for decades. By now, it should be all he wanted, but the desire to be taken care of not only remained, it grew stronger. With the right person, it didn’t have to be a risk, did it?