Total pages in book: 111
Estimated words: 105144 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 526(@200wpm)___ 421(@250wpm)___ 350(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 105144 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 526(@200wpm)___ 421(@250wpm)___ 350(@300wpm)
“I know,” I whisper back. My lips part as I look into his dark blue eyes and he leans in. Slowly, moving inch by inch. Everything fades around me and, for the first time in my life, I feel completely seen. If anyone could look at me knowing the things I did before, the way I let myself get pushed around and used by the Order, and not judge me…it’s Xavier.
He’s been alive for nearly seven hundred years. He’s killed and fucked his way through his afterlife, I’m sure, and the Malus family doesn’t have the reputation it does by being reasonable people.
I know exactly who Xavier is.
Maybe there’s something wrong with me for not balking and wanting to figure out a way to stake him in his sleep. Yet for some reason, he’s not like the Order members who kill anyone who’s different.
My heart leaps in my chest and Xavier brings a hand up, cupping my chin. My pulse increases and warmth floods through me, reminding me that Xavier said he can tell the difference between my heart speeding up out of fear and my pulse increasing because I’m getting turned on.
And right now, it’s the latter.
Everything inside of me is being pulled to him, and desperation to feel his body against mine starts to take over. A tingle runs down my spine, all the way to between my legs. Holy shit. He’s had years and years—centuries—of pleasing women. Vampires in general are said to be great lovers, and I want more than anything to find out just how good Xavier is.
It’s more than that, though. I won’t have to hold back. I won’t have to worry about accidentally sparking him with magic. He won’t push me away out of fear, call me a freak, or even be hurt by it. He’ll heal instantly, and I can fully let go.
“Xavier,” I start, but my voice dies in my throat as he puts his lips to mine. I melt into him, hands landing on his waist. He pulls me closer and I arch my back, pushing my hips into his.
“Perfect!” the photographer exclaims, and I blink a few times, feeling like I need to reorient myself to the here and now. Because for a moment there, I had totally forgotten everything else around me.
I wasn’t thinking about the way the Russos betrayed me. I wasn’t thinking about how much I hate Xavier and want to find a way to escape. I wasn’t thinking about the pain Ryder caused me or how I’ll never feel anything for another person ever again.
And I wasn’t even thinking about how Devon is stirring something inside of me, how looking at him is like looking at a mirror and I want nothing more than to comfort him and help him find his place because in doing so, I’m also finding a place for me.
No, in that moment, only Xavier existed. And fuck, I want to go back to that moment. Because I’ve never felt so seen before in my life. And not just seen, but understood and respected for what I am.
A witch, raised by demon hunters. I’m a skilled assassin, better than anyone I get assigned to go out with and yet I’ve been treated differently—as less than just because I’m different. My differences should have been celebrated, or at the very least recognized for making me a better hunter.
I can just hear Larissa’s voice in my head now, trying to chastise me and tell me that I think I’m better than everyone and me trying to explain to her that just because I’m more skilled doesn’t mean I’m fundamentally a better human being. It takes emotional intelligence to differentiate between the two, and Larissa, and most of the world probably, is lacking.
“Time for the second location,” the photographer says, yet neither Xavier nor I move. I’m still standing there, wrapped in his embrace. Then it hits me: I’m wrapped in his embrace.
The man—no, vampire—who has been trading not attacking the order for women. Women who he holds spellbound so they think they want to contribute to adding to the messed up Malus family.
“We’re good with this,” Xavier says, eyes locked on mine. There’s something so utterly human about the way he’s looking at me, and I wish so badly right now I could get a read on his emotions. Because I have no idea if he’s feeling the same way.
“Oh, okay.” The photographer looks taken aback but has enough sense not to push it with Xavier. Still feeling a little breathless, I reach up and touch my lips, remembering how smooth and cool Xavier’s own lips felt against mine. The memory makes a tingle go through me and I know, without a doubt, that if he kisses me again, I won’t be able to resist him.