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“If you asked me,” he said. “I’d give you it all.”
“Your blood? I told you. We’re not barbarians here. There’s an answer to all of this. What’s making them sick? We’re going to figure it out. We have to.”
“We?”
“Me,” I said. “Pat. My father. Dr. Olivet. I’m not letting anyone die. That includes you. There’s a reason why you haven’t gotten sick like they did. Whether it was Lissa or the fae who originally cursed you. You’re inoculated somehow. If we can figure out a way to synthesize your blood, maybe we can find a cure.”
“They don’t have that kind of time,” Anson said. “You’re too close to it, maybe. But your family, the other packs here. They’re dying, Tempest.”
“They’re not,” I said. “They’re getting better. My father shot you! He had the strength to get up out of bed. My mother said my name. They’re getting better.”
Anson gave me a sad smile. It made me want to rip his face off. I would not hear of it. There would be no death on Wild Lake. Not today. Not ever.
“I love you,” he said. His words might have been a different kind of gunshot. They speared through me, taking the air from my lungs.
“Don’t.”
“Don’t what? Don’t say it? Don’t love you?”
“Just…don’t,” I said. “This isn’t love. It’s never been love between us.”
He still held my wrist. He reached out with his other hand and touched my face. “Tell me you don’t love me.”
“Stop it.”
“Tell me that even now, you don’t burn for me. That if I kissed you, you’d stop me. That if I bent you over this table, you wouldn’t want to spread your legs right here.”
I jerked away from him. Heat flooded through me, settling in my core. Anson’s wicked laugh incensed me.
“Stop it,” I said.
“I can feel it in you, Tempest. I’m the only one who can. There will never be another man who can serve you the way I can. Who can satisfy your darkest nature? Who understands what it is better than you do?”
“That’s not love,” I said. “It’s lust, Anson. You’re a good fuck. I’ll admit it.”
“The best you’ve ever had.”
“You’re the only…” I let my voice trail off, shocked that I’d nearly admitted it to him. But it was the truth. As X, he had been my first. My only lover. I thought Anson had been my second. Every time I’d implied otherwise, I’d been lying.
His eyes went wide.
“Enough,” I said. “What you feel for me. Certainly what I feel for you. It’s not love. I could never love you. You’ve hurt me too much. Betrayed me. Lied to me. Even now, I think you’re still lying.”
He let go of my wrist.
“Well,” he said. “You can believe what you want. You can lie to yourself. But I meant what I said. My promise. I’ll help you until your family gets well or until they…”
“Don’t,” I whispered. I would not hear it. I would not let him say it.
I rose, exhaustion finally winning out. I left the table and headed for the stairs. I never made it up.
Instead, the front door flew open. Pat stood there, hair wild, breathless. Behind her, Dr. Olivet came up the walk.
“She’s back,” Pat said. “And she’s brought some news.”
Chapter Twelve
She took care with my mother, slowly tilting her head so she could sip from the straw she held. “You’re looking better, Neve,” Dr. Olivet said. “Stronger.”
