Total pages in book: 82
Estimated words: 77293 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 386(@200wpm)___ 309(@250wpm)___ 258(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 77293 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 386(@200wpm)___ 309(@250wpm)___ 258(@300wpm)
“Everyone is going to look at you and think you’re mine, which means they’re going to think you’re a, er, ‘lover-of-men,’” I pointed out to him. “Which you keep telling me you’re not. Are you sure you’re up for that?”
Saint frowned, his black brows drawing low on his forehead.
“It’s the only way to satisfy my Drake and keep others who want you away,” he said.
“They’ll stay away now that Megan has broken the spell,” I told him. Well, other than wanting to come after me and knock my teeth down my throat. But I didn’t say that.
“They’ll stay away because I’ve Marked you and you’ve Marked me,” he insisted. Before I could reply, he had taken my thumb and was pressing the pad of it to one long canine that was still razor sharp.
I gasped at the sharp little pain and watched numbly as Saint took my hand and pressed the drop of my blood to his forehead. He closed his eyes for a moment and I could feel a shiver running through his big body, since he was still lying mostly on top of me.
When he looked at me again, I thought I saw peace on his face.
“It’s done,” he said, cupping my cheek tenderly. “You’re mine, mi Corazon. And I am yours.”
“Does it make your Drake happy?” I asked, because I wasn’t sure how to feel about the Blood Markings that had just happened between us. I knew my body had accepted Saint’s Mark because I had feelings for him—romantic feelings, despite knowing it was a bad idea to catch feelings for my straight roommate.
But how had Saint been able to accept my Mark? He kept claiming he wasn’t gay. If that was true, my Mark shouldn’t have had any effect on him. And yet it had—I’d felt it go through him and now I saw it glimmering softly, like a faint star on his forehead. How was it possible?
“My Drake is satisfied…for now.” Saint looked relieved. He dropped his head to my shoulder and drew in a deep, shuddering breath. “Dios, it’s so fucking exhausting fighting with him all the time.”
Despite the traumatic scene we’d just been through together and my own confused feelings, I couldn’t help feeling sorry for him. How difficult must it be to live with that flaming, raging madness locked up inside him all the time? He must feel schizophrenic, constantly trying to control the angry, unreasonable Drake and keep his own sanity at the same time.
And now Saint had Blood Marked another male—me—just to keep the lunatic inside him happy, even though he didn’t consider himself to be gay. What kind of consequences was he going to face for that? He was already an outcast among his own people, but he would have to be ready to experience a whole new level of anger and scorn. I knew from experience that it wasn’t easy being out in the magic world.
Not that he was really out, I reminded myself. He didn’t really have feelings for me—he had only Marked me to please his Drake. He…
Saint moved against me and made a soft sound.
“Hmm?” Looking down at him, I saw that he had fallen asleep with his head on my chest. His long, black eyelashes looked like fans against his high cheekbones and there was a look of utter exhaustion on his stern but handsome features.
Since he was no longer holding my arms above my head, I wrapped them around him. Part of me knew this was wrong—I shouldn’t be cuddling with Saint this way. I ought to be upset about the way things had gone between us—the rough way he’d handled me, the way he had basically forced me to take his Mark and then made me Mark him in turn—none of that was okay. Not at all.
And yet, I couldn’t find any anger in myself for the tall, dark Drake. To the contrary, I found that the feelings I had been fighting for him had actually grown.
Don’t be stupid, I told myself. Don’t let yourself fall all the way, Avery. You’ll be sorry if you do!
But I couldn’t seem to help it. Cradling my roommate against me, I let myself drift off to sleep as well. It had been a long, tiring day and I knew for certain tomorrow was going to be rough as well.
19
SAINT
I woke in the middle of the night, cradled in warmth. There was a scent like masculine spice and clean clothes surrounding me and smooth, soft skin was pressed against my cheek and chest.
I blinked, trying to remember what had happened. How had I gotten here? The last thing I remembered was fighting with my Drake, who had been raging with jealousy that Avery was his, damnit, that he didn’t belong to anyone else, but only to him—to us. He—