(BLUE'S POV)
Looking into Mason's brown eyes-Goddess, those eyes that always seemed to hold me in place without even knowing it-I suddenly felt like I'd been caught doing something I wasn't supposed to be doing.
Which... okay, fair enough. I had been watching him sleep like some kind of creep. Totally normal behavior. Absolutely nothing strange about that.
I blinked at him, caught off guard, and my-yes, my, very much supposed-to-be-dead heart-decided to act up again. This time it wasn't even a faint, forgettable dance either. No. It was loud. Fast. Completely out of control, like it had come back from the dead and lost whatever sense it used to have.
Even when I was human... it had never ever, beaten like this before.
"You-" I stopped, then tried again, suddenly very aware of myself. "You're... awake?"
Great.
Brilliant.
That was what I went with.
I let out a quiet, awkward huff, rubbing the back of my neck with my free hand like that would somehow fix anything.
"Of course you're awake," I muttered, half under my breath, a little flustered now. "That was a dumb question."
That single word-my name-fell from his lips and hit me like a goddamn impact. It wasn't gentle. It wasn't soft. It slammed straight into my body, heat detonating low in my gut, my cock jerking hard against my jeans before I could even catch a breath.
"Yes," I murmured, barely audible. I'd spoken louder on battlefields soaked in blood centuries ago-commanding, roaring, unshaken. But this? This dragged something raw out of me. Something unguarded.
His eyes were half-lidded, unfocused, caught somewhere between sleep and waking. "You... stayed. Protected me."
There was a question buried in it, but it made no sense. Of course I stayed. There was never another outcome. Not when it came to him. Not in any lifetime.
He hummed softly, content, like something deep inside him had settled. Then his hand lifted-unsteady, weak-and caught the front of my shirt, fingers curling tight like he needed the anchor.
"Hold me..." he breathed.
Just two words. That was all it took.
Something ancient inside me snapped its restraint.
If I still had a pulse, it would've been deafening. Hunger surged up my throat-not for blood, not this time, though his scent alone made my fangs ache-but something deeper. Darker. I wanted him. Not carefully. Not gently. I wanted to press him into the mattress, tear those thin clothes away, and sink into him until he was shaking, until my name broke from his mouth like a prayer. I wanted to mark him everywhere-inside, outside-leave no part of him untouched, flood him, ruin him, make him mine in a way that could never be undone.
I almost did it.
My hands flexed. My body leaned in before I could stop it, lips parting, the beast inside me snarling, take him-take him now.
No.
I shut it down so hard my jaw clenched.
He didn't know. Not yet. One careless moment, one slip, and I'd destroy the only thing I'd ever... cared about like this. I could break him. And I wouldn't. I refused.
Carefully-more carefully than I'd ever handled anything-I covered his hand with mine and eased it back onto the bed. My voice came out rough, dragged over gravel. "You need sleep, Mason."
"You're nice," he mumbled, already drifting.
Nice.
The word scraped something bitter and almost laughable out of me. After everything I'd done-every life I'd taken, every throat I'd torn open-this was what he saw.
A quiet, broken laugh slipped out before I could stop it.
I shouldn't have stayed. I knew that. I should've left him there, safe in his sleep, far away from everything I was.
But I didn't move.
Instead, I leaned down, meaning to press something harmless-something safe-to his forehead. Just a brush of lips. Nothing more.
But Mason moved first.
His fingers tightened in my shirt, unexpectedly strong, dragging me down, and then out of blue, his mouth crashed into mine. Warm. Soft with sleep. Clumsy, open, real.
It descended on me like a shockwave.
Panic tore through me. My body went rigid. I should pull away-I needed to-but then his lips shifted, his tongue brushing mine in the faintest, hesitant way, and a broken sound dragged itself out of my chest.
My control shattered.
My cock throbbed, hard and aching, pressed painfully against my zipper. Every filthy, possessive instinct inside me came roaring back. I wanted to push him down, spread his thighs open, fuck him slow and deep until he couldn't think, couldn't breathe without me. I wanted to drink from him, that sweet scenting blood, while I moved inside him, drag it out until his heartbeat matched mine, until something irreversible locked into place between us.
Instead... I kissed him back.
Carefully. Goddess, so carefully it hurt. Every movement was controlled, restrained-the slow slide of my lips against his, the faintest touch of my tongue. I tasted him; he tasted like beer, warmth and sleep-and it was its own kind of torture.
Then it was over.
He sighed softly against my mouth and slipped right back under, like none of it had happened. Like he hadn't just undone me completely.
I stayed there for a second, forehead resting against his, my lungs burning out of habit even though I didn't need the air. My hands trembled where they gripped the sheets on either side of him.
"You're dangerous, Mason," I whispered, my voice wrecked. "Not because you try... but because you don't. You drive me crazy."
I pulled the blanket up around him, tucking it in like it could somehow protect him-from me, from what I was. Then I lay beside him, close enough to feel his warmth, far enough to keep my fangs buried where they belonged.
My hand found his again. Our fingers laced together.
Just that. Just contact.
And for the first time in nine hundred years... the monster inside me went still. No blood lust. No noise. No endless hunger clawing at my insides.
Just the steady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath my thumb.
Just him.
Tomorrow, I'd stop pretending this was anything less than what it was. Tomorrow, I'd stop hiding it.
Tomorrow, I'd claim him-properly, carefully, the way he deserved.
Hell, I'd even ask him out. A real question. A real start. Even if word "boyfriend" felt too small, too human for something this consuming. I'll use it. Baby steps.
Because this time...
My mate wasn't getting away and I was done watching him suffer.