Total pages in book: 53
Estimated words: 48827 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 244(@200wpm)___ 195(@250wpm)___ 163(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 48827 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 244(@200wpm)___ 195(@250wpm)___ 163(@300wpm)
I drop my fighting stance, letting my arms hang loose at my sides, feigning hurt.
“I would never want to hurt you, Zachariah,” I say in my most weak and sad-drenched tone.
He immediately shifts out of his stance, concern lining every inch of his features as he steps toward me. “Talia, I'm sorry, I didn't mean—”
I strike, kicking his feet out from underneath him, my hand at his throat as I take him to the ground, straddling his chest.
I grin down at him triumphantly, his eyes flaring wide with shock and a little bit of pride that I can't help but feel radiate through me. “I win,” I say.
A blink is all it takes before my spine kisses the mat, his muscled body atop mine, his hand at my throat as his delicious weight settles between my thighs.
“That's right,” I say, need flaring through me, exhilaration flooding my body at the sensation from sparring with him. “I forgot, you used to be the most powerful vampire on the planet.”
“Used to be?” he says, and I roll my hips, using everything I have in my arsenal to distract him. He shudders at the way I move beneath him, and his pupils blow out just slightly—
I tighten my hips and flip him, regaining the upper hand as I look down at him. “One would say that our king is the most powerful vampire on the planet now.”
Zachariah groans, his hands falling to my hips, the fight going right out of him. “Fine,” he says. “I'll gladly take second place to our king, as long as I'm first with you.”
I roll my eyes, gripping his throat just a little bit tighter as I lean down, my lips an inch above his. My every instinct is begging me to bite him, to drink his blood in the way I always fantasized about.
I'm so fucking thirsty, desperate for sustenance only someone like him can offer, someone like my mate...
Not my mate. Not anymore, I argue with myself.
“Say I win,” I say with a lot more gusto than I actually feel.
Zachariah glances down at where our bodies are connecting, at where I’m straddling him. “I'd have to argue that I'm the winner in this situation,” he says.
I can't help but laugh.
“I have my hand at your throat. One good squeeze from me and...you'd at least go to sleep for a minute,” I admit begrudgingly.
His smile is wide and beautiful as he looks up at me, not a hint of fear with me atop him. “You win,” he says, and I tremble at the way that admission makes me feel. “You'll always win with me, Talia,” he says with more determination.
I release him, hopping to my feet and offering a hand to help him stand. “That hasn't always been the case,” I say, the pain catching up and stealing the fun away from the game.
He doesn't let go of my hand, instead drawing me closer to him, his eyes locking with mine. “And I'm prepared to spend an eternity making up for that,” he says.
“That's a very long time,” I say, my voice almost a whisper as I'm caught between the need to get closer to him and the desperation to get away to protect myself.
He gently grazes a knuckle down my cheek. “An eternity with you wouldn't be long enough for me.”
A response gets tangled in my throat, my heart begging me to let him in. To welcome him back as if nothing ever happened.
But it’s the memory of being left behind and alone for centuries that has me gathering enough strength to take my hand back, and walk with my head held somewhat high as I leave the training room and all of Zachariah’s promises behind before I do something terribly reckless…
Like fall for him again.
CHAPTER 9
Zachariah
“Ineed you to come with me,” I say by way of greeting when I find Talia laughing with the girls in the informal dining hall in the residence.
It doesn't go unnoticed that they fall silent the minute I walk into the room, every single one of them looking at me with a mixture of disappointment and anger.
Jesus, I know I have to make amends with Talia, probably every day for the rest of my existence, but now it looks like I have a whole gaggle of females to apologize to.
“Where?” Talia asks, but she pushes away from the table and rises as if the destination doesn't matter, which gives me a little hope.
“The war room,” I explain. “Alek has called a meeting.”
Her eyebrows raise as she glances down at Lyric. “I don't have clearance for that,” she says, looking back at me.
“I do,” I say without a hint of hesitance in my tone. “And I need you there.”
Talia looks at me, interest shaping her features as she dips her head.
The rest of the girls smile at her in a mischievous way, Every single one of the mates at the table, minus Annika, knows how monumental it is to be let inside the war room. It’s reserved for assassins and hunters alone, with the exception of their mates. And while Talia might not officially be mine, she is in every way that matters.