Page 120 of Dhampira

Vander watched me with steady eyes. “You wanted to speak with one.”

And it was as simple as that. I’d expressed a desire, and they’d made it happen. They’d chosen me over their duties to my father. My heart sped up. Heat prickled over my skin as both men waited for me to make the next move. The weight of their trust settled on my shoulders, rooting me in place.

But I couldn’t stand still. Every second we conspired under Rasimir’s nose was fraught with unspeakable risk.

Swallowing hard, I turned to the werewolf. I lifted my chin, and I willed my voice to stay steady as I said, “Remove his gag.”

Lorcan reached around and wrenched away the fabric. The cloth ripped and fell to the ground.

The werewolf spat another damp wad of cloth from his mouth, then worked his jaw as if it pained him. Red marred his cheeks where the gag had dug into his skin. His eyes brightened a shade as he raked a contemptuous look down my body.

“If you think my alpha will ever agree to serve a bloodsucker whore—”

His words ended in a strangled whimper as Vander flashed in front of him and wrapped a big hand around his throat. Claws burst from his knuckles and pressed into the werewolf’s skin. Blood trickled down the man’s neck, and the scent bloomed, iron and sugar touched with the sour stench of fear.

Lorcan hissed, his fangs less than an inch from the werewolf’s ear. “That was a mistake, dog.”

Vander’s broad back blocked my view of the werewolf except for the man’s face, which rapidly turned purple as Vander spoke in a low, even voice that curdled my blood.

“Insult her again, and I’ll slice off your balls and feed them to you. That’s a promise, boy, not a threat. And I always keep my promises.”

The hair on my nape lifted. I’d always believed Lorcan was the colder of the two men. Now I knew how badly I’d miscalculated. Vander’s anger was a sharp blade concealed by an easy smile.

The werewolf made a gurgling sound. Vander loosened his grip, and the man nodded as more blood ran down his neck and soaked his collar. When Vander removed his hand, the werewolf sucked in air like a fish flopping on the shore.

“All right…” he wheezed. “I…understand.”

“Apologize,” Vander said, letting his claws hover at the man’s collarbone.

The werewolf fastened his yellow eyes on me, anxiety supplanting his hatred. “I’m sorry.”

Vander seized the man’s throat again.

“What?” the werewolf croaked, his eyes bulging. Vander must not have gripped as hard as before because the wolf managed to produce a string of panicked-sounding babble. “Wh-What more do you want? I s-said I was sorry!”

Vander dropped his hand. His claws slid back under his skin with a soft click. “Nothing. Just making sure you meant it.”

I stepped closer. “That’s enough, Sir Vander.”

Vander moved back at once, but he stayed close as I faced off with the werewolf.

“What is your name?” I asked.

The werewolf hesitated. Lorcan punched him in the side of the head.

“Ow!” the werewolf cried, shuddering in Lorcan’s grip. “What was that for?”

“You want another?”

“Fuck you!”

“Tell her your name,” Lorcan growled, the tips of his stolen wings fluttering at his hips as he gripped the werewolf more tightly.

“Daryn!”

I motioned for Lorcan to ease up. When he did, the werewolf straightened, wariness in his eyes as he looked at me.

“It’s nice to meet you, Daryn,” I said. “Is it true you serve Kristoff?”