Page 89 of Sight of Fate

Ever since I gave him my blood, there’s been this underlying current between us. Not the intangible link between mates, like I feel with Teague and Macklin, but a very real physical need that’s growing with every passing second.

“You lied to me,” I tell him. “That day in your office when you told me vampires don’t have mates. Did you know? That there was a possibility I was your mate?”

He stiffens. “Teague told me about Raine’s vision, but I didn’t believe it was true. It’s exceedingly rare for vampires to have mates.”

“I see. Can you hear me? Like my thoughts,” I ask, stumbling over the question but needing to know the answer.

“No.”

Thank goodness. Although now I’m curious. “What else is different?”

His brow furrows, and he shrugs. “The only thing I know is the bond doesn’t happen until we exchange blood. Given that I’ve taken yours but haven’t given you mine, nothing is set in stone,” he replies, tilting his head, a curious glint in his eye.

“We don’t have to have sex to bond?” I squeak.

He spares me an amused but heated look. “We can fuck any time we want. Why?” Leaning in close, he skims his sharp incisors down the column of my neck. “Do you want me to fuck you?”

I swallow hard, my fingers flexing, wanting a taste of what he’s offering, but forcing myself to remember his words. “Not a chance.”

He laughs. “Liar. I can hear your heart racing.”

“Fear,” I state firmly, lifting my chin.

Placing his lips near my ear, he whispers, “Fear doesn’t make you wet.” He moves back a step, dropping his gaze to my chest. “Or your nipples hard.”

Asshole. Having had enough, I jerk myself from his arms and turn on my heel, leaving him on the dance floor with an amused expression on his smug face.

In my eagerness to get away, I bump into a server, and a couple of glasses crash to the floor. People turn in our direction, but I’m frozen, staring at him in horror.

I hear someone yell for Leif.

The server tosses his tray at me and pivots, but Macklin is there to grab him.

Teague and Andros move to stand beside me.

“Vision?” Teague asks tersely, his eyes locked on the man in front of me.

I nod.

Leif comes up along with Alex, Sofia, Torsten, and several of his men. “What’s going on?” He looks at the server. “Karl?”

The man starts squirming, fur rippling across his arms, but Macklin’s hold is unbreakable.

“He started the fire. At the cabin. The one that killed Annika,” I tell Leif.

“She doesn’t know what she’s talking about,” Karl sneers, trying to jerk his arm away from Macklin.

Sofia tilts her head. “Wait. You were there that day. I remember my mom arguing with you. About someone named Sven.”

The man glances around wildly. “I went by to talk to her. That’s it. I left after a few minutes.”

“He did leave,” Sofia says, a distant expression on her face.

Leif looks at Macklin. “Let him go.” Leif shoves the man toward Torsten, who grabs him in a tight grip.

White fur ripples along Leif’s arm, and Teague steps in front of me.

“I always thought it was somebody she knew,” Torsten murmurs, his smooth voice becoming garbled as his eyes begin to glow.