He really did remember her from the one time he’d seen her. Yes, she’d been more than aware of his existence, had seen him on numerous occasions, and sometimes…she’d actually sought him out on her own. She may have followed him a time to two as well.
But he’d only seen her that one time. The time he’d punched a hole through a car window and held her by her throat while Grace’s mate rescued her.
She didn’t bring it up, though. She understood why he’d done it. He thought she was the enemy. And she was, wasn’t she? Even if she hadn’t wanted to do the things Sir made her do, she’d still done them. “Yes, much better.”
“You feel up to a tour? I’ll show you around the place, introduce you to my brothers’ mates and the other demi staying here.”
She nodded. It’d be rude to say no after everything they’d done, even if the idea of meeting so many made her break out in a cold sweat. “Sounds good. So where will I be staying?”
Gunner frowned. “What do you mean?”
“I assume you have separate quarters for the demi you bring here?”
His frown grew deeper. “I thought that maybe you’d stay here, with me? You’re still recovering. If you need to feed again, if you need to…”
“No.” The word burst past her lips with far more force than she’d intended.
Gunner flinched, his body freezing in place.
Feed from him? No goddamn way. The humiliation was too much for her to bear. She didn’t want this male, of all people, to see her like that ever again. Nothing but a slave to her hunger. Once was more than enough.
Gunner was watching her, his jaw working.
What was he thinking? Probably how ungrateful she was. Here he was offering her his vein, despite how awful it must’ve been for him, and she’d recoiled as if he was the monster.
“I’m sorry,” she rushed out. “I appreciate everything you’ve done for me, but I won’t burden you any longer. I sure as hell don’t expect you to feed me again.” She looked down at the floor, unable to meet his penetrating gaze.
“You need to feed regularly, Luna.”
“I’ll figure something out—”
“How will you figure it out?” he said, so harshly, goose bumps rose all over her skin. “You need blood, I’m offering you mine.”
She shook her head even as her fangs tingled and her stomach gripped with the beginning pangs of hunger. “You’ve already done enough. I’ll find someone…don’t worry about me.”
“Look at me,” he said, softer but still harsh.
It was difficult, she didn’t want to look at his handsome face, not when her body was screaming at her to move closer to him, to seek out his incredible warmth, to breathe in his intoxicating scent.
She forced herself to meet his eyes. “You don’t need to offer yourself up like that.”
His eyes were bright, hard, determined. “When you need to feed, love, you will feed from me.”
She opened her mouth to argue and shut it again. That look brooked no argument. She didn’t understand why he was so adamant about this. Why he’d even want that?
Duty. The voice in her head whispered again. His strong, unwavering sense of duty.
She nodded but had no intention of doing as he asked. No, she couldn’t bear to be that…vulnerable with him again. That was asking too much. Her fragile emotions couldn’t take it.
He looked pleased, and she ignored the niggle of guilt that she’d lied to him.
He opened the door that led to the hall outside his apartment. “Right, now that that’s sorted, let’s go.”
Chapter 8
Hell
The door opened and, like always, Scarlet peered around it before she walked in. And, like always, Tobias’s heart smacked to life in his chest. From the moment she walked into this room, his world became her. And the moment she left, he lived until she would come back. Until he could see her again.
She was the only thing worth fighting for.
His body was a mess, worse than the day before. It had been “fun with knives” day, and the demon had enjoyed the hell out of himself. Fucker.
Scarlet moved into the room, and he fucking sucked in a pained breath. Oh, Christ. This had to mean something. How could it not? Yesterday, as she’d tended his wounds, he’d told her how beautiful her hair was, and today, for the first time since he was sent here, she wasn’t wearing a braid. No, her wild, glorious red hair was down and free.