helped me roll onto my side, then sat on the couch beside my hip and played his fingers over my arm. “Good as new.”
What is with this vampire? His actions and words made my head spin. They weren’t at all what the university had prepared me for.
Lycans and vampires broke human bones all the time at the university, and then they made the mortal suffer through the pain of healing. It served as a reminder of their power and their ability to injure those who stepped out of line.
From my experience, their cruelest punishments didn’t always equal death.
Torture could do a lot more to hurt someone. And forcing that person to live with the memories of their torment was the ultimate castigation.
Yet Ryder had healed me. Twice.
It didn’t make any sense. Royal vampires took what they wanted. They were savage creatures. And while Ryder exuded that same air of violence, he treated me as if I were something precious. Not just a snack.
His dark eyes captured mine as he drew his touch up to my neck, his fingers finding my pulse. “What has you so unnerved, sweet pet?” he asked, bending to run his nose across my cheek in a decidedly animalistic manner.
Because he’s not human.
“You smell distraught,” he murmured. “Is it your arm? Does it hurt?”
“No, it’s… you healed me…” I trailed off, having said the first thing that came to my mind, then didn’t know how to finish it.
He lifted just enough to stare down at me, his proximity a hot caress against my senses. “Yes. Are you wanting to thank me?”
The way he said it had goose bumps pebbling down my arms. I could only guess what he wanted me to do to show my gratitude.
His hand traveled from my neck up to my face, where he cupped my cheek. “Are you still in pain?”
I slowly shook my head.
“Good,” he whispered. “And how are your memories?”
His minty breath clouded the air between us, seducing my senses. It would be so easy to taste him, his lips only a few inches from mine.
Stop it, I told myself. He’s dangerous.
I recalled the way he killed those two vampires in his living area, how brutal and precise his actions were in destroying their lives. He hadn’t even blinked, so lost to his rage that he exterminated them without a second thought.
It was exactly what he would do to me when he grew tired of my presence.
No, my death would be worse. He’d drain me with a bite, take back all the blood he’d fed me and then some.
I trembled at the notion.
“Are they still foggy?” Ryder asked, drawing me back to his questions regarding my memory.
“Yes,” I admitted. “Like I dreamt my entire life before waking up in your basement.”
“Hmm.” He brushed his thumb across my cheekbone, then lowered his grip to my throat again. “You seem to have an adverse reaction to my blood, or perhaps it’s something with the drugs you were given at the breeding camp. Maybe a combination of both.” His gaze fell to my lips. “I’ll look into it for you next week.”
I blinked at him. “Why would you do that?” Why do you care? was what I really wanted to know.
“Because I can,” he replied. “And you’re my pet. I’d like to know what happened to you to make you forget. It’s a sign of a programming failure, something I imagine society would find fascinating.”
I’m sorry I asked, I thought, swallowing roughly.
“Don’t worry, sweet Willow. I won’t let them touch you. You’re mine.” He brushed a kiss against my mouth, similar to the one he’d gifted me in his sparring room. Quick. Warm. Underlined in promise.
“What am I to you?” I asked, my eyes searching his. “What classification is my role in your world?”
“You’re my pet,” he said, his lips curling at the sides. “Mine to play with and stroke as I please, and in exchange, I’ll keep you safe.”
“Why?” The university hadn’t discussed the classification of a pet, and something told me Ryder had just made it up. Like everything else. Is he even a royal? I wondered again, confused by his antics.
His mouth met mine again, this time lingering for a heartbeat before he repeated, “Because I can.” Those three words scattered heat throughout my body, awakening a forbidden emotion I didn’t know how to handle.
For twenty-two years, I refused to allow myself even an ounce of hope. Until Blood Day, when I thought for sure I would become a Vigil. When