If I was bonded to her, I’d be unable to keep my distance. But as the seconds tick by, it seems my entire body, down to its tiniest cell, is being pulled toward her. My skin tingles, my stomach is a hot mess of twisted knots, and my mouth is watering already, remembering the taste of her blood. The feeling is similar to bloodlust. The difference is, I don’t want to drink from her until she’s dry. I just want to be near her.
Come on, Saxon. Don’t let Solomon get in your head.
My foot moves an inch forward and it’s a herculean effort to stop in my tracks. I switch my attention to the clock mounted on the wall to my right. Five minutes. If I can stay still for five minutes, I’ll call it a win.
I don’t last one.
Aurora
I knew Saxon wouldn’t leave me alone, but I didn’t expect him to come after me on the same evening of that stolen kiss. I wish he had waited longer because I sure as hell have not recovered from it yet. As a matter of fact, I’ve been doing nothing but replaying the moment in my head since I got back.
When I raise my eyes from the book I’ve been trying to read for the past hour, I find him looking all smug and fine, staring at me with a wolfish grin on his lips.
“Evening, Aurora.”
“What are you doing here?” I shout-whisper.
He pulls up the chair next to mine and takes a seat awfully close to me. “I’m considering enrolling here. I think I need a refresher.”
I shut the book with a loud thud, trying to mask how much my heart supports that idea. My body begins to hum at his proximity, which doesn’t bode well for me. The last thing I need is Saxon living in the same building as me, tempting me with his delicious body and smoldering eyes. There’s a high chance that I might develop some kind of attachment to him as a way to reject my impending doom. But it wouldn’t be real.
“Why?”
“Why not? It’s been a while.” He leans back on the chair, folding his arms behind his head, which makes his shirt rise up and reveal a patch of golden skin.
I’ve licked that area and farther south. Now I want to taste it again. Crap.
“That’s ridiculous. You can’t simply enroll whenever you feel like it.”
“Oh? I can’t? Says who?” He raises an eyebrow.
I don’t really have an answer for that. “When was the last time you were here?”
“Forty years ago. Why do you ask?”
It’s so easy to forget Saxon has hundreds of years over me when he looks like that. “No reason.”
I begin to collect my things. It’s getting harder and harder to keep pretending I don’t want to jump his bones again.
Saxon picks one of the books from the pile and opens it to a random page. “What were you reading with such intensity?”
Intensity? I want to laugh. I was thinking about how good your dick felt inside of me, you idiot. My face is on fire. I’m glad I don’t blush easily, but surrounded by vampires, it makes no difference. They can sense any change in a human’s body, which means Saxon knows exactly how fast my heart is beating.
“This is a druid book about vampire hibernation. You were looking for a way to help Lucca.” He meets my gaze. Gone is the cockiness. All I see now is a male who is vulnerable and in pain.
“I know how important it is that Lucca returns. My mother is set in her ways. She won’t look for an alternative that’s a little unorthodox.”
“And you think druid magic has the answer? How different is their magic from witches’, anyway?”
“Extremely different. We draw our powers from Mother Earth. Druids were gifted their magic.”
“By whom?”
“I don’t know.”
Saxon’s gaze darkens. “You don’t think the Nightingales, do you?”
I let out a heavy sigh. The source of druid magic, like many other secrets, is something the witch and mage elders don’t like to share. They keep the information for themselves, like dirty little hoarders. Information is power. No wonder a witch’s grimoire can fetch a high price on the black market. The older the grimoire, the more valuable.
“It’s a possibility, but the Nightingales aren’t my specialty. Can I have my book back, please?” I turn my hand palm-up.
The solemn glint fades from his eyes, giving way to a heatwave. He returns the book, making sure his fingers brush mine.