Eira's POV
"Don't worry," he murmured, his voice low and unhurried, "I will never drink from you."
My brows drew together at once. I despised the way he always implied that I smelled shitty, that even my blood would taste the same to him. "Because it's shitty to you?" I asked coolly, refusing to let the sting show.
He smirked and leaned closer, his breath warm against my skin. "Are you disappointed to know it?"
He could have softened the moment. He could have chosen a gentler answer. Instead, he admitted it without remorse, almost as if he took pleasure in provoking me. I should have been relieved. What sane person would desire a beast sinking his fangs into their flesh? And yet, somewhere deep within me, a faint ache stirred.
I did not want him to see that.
When I gave him no reply, he tilted his head slightly. "That's some badass kink you seem to have."
I raised a brow. "What are you talking about?"
