Page 24 of Blood Moon Bound

He studied me for several seconds, a muscle in his jaw jumping. “No, I won’t leave you alone.”

His voice, that accent, rolled over me and set off little tingles across my skin. When I first saw him, I found him terrifying. I didn’t anymore. He was fierce, yes, but also kind in his own way. And I liked his face. He was all angles and darkness and scars, but that suited him. Who gave him that scar? I assumed he got it during battle. Maybe the same time his heart stopped beating? Vampires usually healed completely, no matter the injury, but his injuries hadn’t for some reason, permanently marking his skin. He had all those warrior tattoos as well. I liked those too. Seeing his inked hand with mine last night as he’d slid our linked fingers up my thigh—a shiver slid through me—had been mesmerizing.

“What are you thinking?” he said, startling me from my musings.

“Nothing,” I said quickly.

His gaze locked on mine, so impossibly intense. “That was the wrong answer, Delphine.”

“What do you mean—”

“You’re lying to me.”

Another shiver slid through me, but not from fear. From his voice, the way he looked at me, the way he said Delphine in that deep, rough way. He said there should be nothing I couldn’t tell him. “How do you know I’m lying?”

He flashed his teeth. “It’s all there in those pretty eyes of yours.”

My pulse picked up speed. “Do I really have to tell you?”

“Yes.”

Butterflies gathered in my belly. “I was wondering how you got the scar on your face.” And before I knew what I was going to do, I touched his cheek with the tip of my finger and traced it down to his jaw. “And what happened to make your heart stop beating?”

He watched me, perfectly still. I quickly snatched my hand back, not sure what came over me.

“A fae blade,” he said. “The steel they forge in their territory is the only thing that renders us as good as mortal.”

I stared at him stunned. To survive a war like that, against weapons that could have killed him, he must be an incredibly skilled warrior. “I had no idea.”

“As for my heart, I was a prisoner, held by the fae for some weeks.”

“And they hurt you badly?”

He dipped his chin. “Then I slaughtered them and escaped. What else?”

I blinked, still processing what he’d just said. “Pardon?”

“What else were you thinking?”

I took a fortifying breath. “I was thinking how I love your accent, and how I was afraid of you the first night we met and, now, not so much. And that I like your face and your warrior tattoos, and I even like those things when you’re being surly. That got me thinking about the things we did in the library and how much I enjoyed it, and that I’d like to do it again.”

His nostrils flared.

The car pulled to a stop, and we were engulfed in silence.

“Constantine?”

He reached for me—

Someone opened his door and he muttered a curse. His gaze lingered on me for several beats, then he cursed again and climbed out, came around, and opened my door.

“Are you all right?” He seemed agitated.

His gaze dipped to my mouth and back up. “I’ve been better.”

“Is there anything I can do to help?”

The violet of his eyes deepened. “Yes, but not while we’re here. Let’s go.”