Death Game: Supernatural Battle (Vampire Towers #3) - Kelly St. Clare Page 0,72
past, his urge to rip off my clothes spurred my libido higher. Our bodies were swimming around each other, touching, scenting, listening, and heating. Constantly.
I gulped back air. Hot air. The room was stifling. Not big enough for both of us.
While I still had faculty of my brain, I edged around the bed to stand by the open window. The cool air did nothing to soothe the uncomfortable heat building in my body.
“Eight days,” Kyros grunted.
Frowning, it took a second to realise he’d answered my question. Eight days until the end cascade is triggered. Forecasted to be triggered anyway. It could be several days after. It could also happen any day if Fyrlia scored another big deal or continued to throw obscene amounts of money at properties.
The temptation to tell Kyros my entire plan burned in my throat, if only so he’d stop looking at me like that.
Yes, he’d been forced to interact with me at first. I’d lost count of the times the vampire had lost himself to fury over my actions.
Never, never had Kyros looked at me like I was trash. I felt like the worst person in the world, the lowest of the low.
But I had a plan that could change his opinion of me. Like so many of my actions in recent times, my plan affected others. Other humans. People I respected who I couldn’t forcefully manoeuvre if they didn’t choose to work with me.
Ironically, Kyros and I fell down more often than not because we didn’t confide in the other. There were so many things I did discuss with Kyros. Many times where I’d sought his harmless advice.
And still, the same issue remained between us as it had from day one.
The game.
Perhaps I should bring him on board with this plan. Two heads were better than one, after all, but Ingenium was why I couldn’t bring him in on this last effort to fix everything.
His motives still weren’t my motives.
He played to keep his family alive at nearly any cost.
I played because I wanted our motives to be the same.
I wanted the game gone.
I wanted to live my life without a constant threat over my head. I wanted that for my loved ones too.
I wanted the humans of this city to be free.
I needed Kyros to be done with this game so we could be free.
To ensure that happened, I was willing to betray him one more time.
“Nothing to say?” He pressed.
I scrambled for a reply. “You can feel how that knowledge affects me. Has Sundulus figured out an exit point?”
My mouth dried as he straightened, looking as perfect as the first time I saw him.
His jaw clenched. “You lost the right to know our movements when you betrayed us to the Fyrlia scum.”
I flinched as though struck.
“Did you take any convincing?” he whispered, stalking forward until he stood before me. “Did you walk in and give up my family without second thought?”
One hundred and fifty years of constant struggle to keep his family alive. That was fuelling his bitterness now—and that his true mate was the person to lose the battle for them.
I didn’t answer.
“Tell me,” he snarled in my face.
I tilted my chin. “You know me, so I won’t answer that question despite the anger you feel.”
“I thought I knew you.” He whirled away, and I sucked in a large breath as his scent struck me full force.
Fuck.
Pressing my legs together, I bit my lip on a whimper.
His cruel laughter rang out. “It must torture you to feel so torn. Your body wants nothing but to wrap around mine, your mind wants nothing more than to see me dead.”
He was venting, but my ire finally rose in response.
“I don’t want you dead. And you won’t die,” I said calmly.
“You believe I’ll live happily in Fyrlia territory?” Kyros hissed. “You think that every day in there won’t be hell? My family killed before my eyes. My mother raped. Forced each day to hear their insults against those I love.” His voice swelled. “The need to get to you, to claim you, will drive me insane. I won’t physically die, Basilia.”
“I’m sorry,” I whispered. “It was a mistake to handle that situation alone. I know that.”
“That situation.” Kyros fixed both eyes on me.
Folding my arms, I returned his regard.
He blurred to me and clamped one arm around my waist, forcing my head upward with a grip under my chin.
Gasping, I clutched his arms so I didn’t topple out the window.