Binding Ties
Page 60

 Shannon K. Butcher

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The first time he’d seen her, he hadn’t exactly been at his best. He’d been nearly dead, starving for blood, animalistic in his hunger. He’d attacked her, fed from her, held her against her will.
It was no wonder she was afraid of him now.
He took in the curly black hair that fell just past her shoulders, gleaming in the dim light. Her skin was a deep tan that made her silvery green eyes stand out like faceted gemstones. Signs of weariness stained her face but made her no less lovely. All those marks did was increase Ronan’s need to see to her care and safety. If she was his, she’d never suffer again. He would make sure she was rested and fed, comfortable and warm—whatever she needed, he would provide it.
But she wasn’t his. Didn’t even want to be near him. At least she hadn’t until now.
Ronan pulled to a stop and turned off his engine. He turned on the headlights to help ease her fears, and then stepped out of the van inside the protective confines of the metal building.
He would be more careful this time. Be gentle with her. Respect her wishes.
Everything in him that was ravenous and demonic laughed at the idea that he would be anything more than his true self.
As he stepped around to the back of the van, she held up her hands. “That’s far enough.”
Ronan forced his feet to stop. It was an act of willpower, but one he made for her comfort.
“Who are you?” he asked.
“Justice.”
Ah, so she was here to inflict some kind of punishment on him. At least she was honest about her intent. Even though he hated it that she wanted to hurt him, he had to give her credit for owning up to it.
“What is your name?” he asked, clarifying his question. “Mine is Ronan. I should at least know the name of the woman who’s come to mete out justice.”
“No, Justice is my name.”
“I didn’t see it on the manifest for your flight.”
She frowned. “I have no idea how you got your hands on that, but, for your information, I flew under an alias.”
“So, your friends call you Justice?”
“I have no friends.”
He couldn’t help but feel the sting of pain saying that caused her. Protective instincts rose to the fore, and all he wanted to do was take her in his arms and soothe her hurts. “I will be your friend, Justice.”
She laughed, and the sound was so musical, he wanted to dance. “Nice try, bloodsucker. But I think I have enough friends.”
“You just said you had none.”
“Exactly.”
“Why are you still here?” he asked. “Why didn’t you run from me the way you have every other time I’ve come close to finding you?”
Her mouth tightened in anger. “They wouldn’t let me.”
“They who?”
“No one you know. Now, let’s just get this over with so we can both go on with our lives.” She stepped out from behind her car. Bruises darkened her arms, along with what looked like scabbed-over cuts.
Ronan was at her side before he realized he was moving. Magic fueled his speed and scared the living hell out of his woman. She wheeled back from him so fast, she left a dent in the metal siding of the outbuilding.
“Do not touch me,” she said. “The last time you did, you nearly killed me.”
How could he explain to her the hunger he’d felt at the time? He hadn’t meant to take so much of her blood or to be so rough with her. If he’d been in his right mind, he would have been gentle with her, cherishing the gift of blood she’d given him.
But he hadn’t been gentle, and she had no way of knowing that he didn’t make a habit of ravaging women who showed up out of the blue to save his life. All he could do now was respect her wishes and hope that in time she’d find some sliver of trust for him.
Because he really did need to get his hands on her again, feel her warm skin against his lips and taste her sweet blood as it flowed over his tongue, replenishing his cells with the magic they craved.
Ronan held up his hands and backed away a step. “I’m sorry about that, Justice. I deeply regret how I treated you that day. If you’d stayed, I would have explained that I’m not usually so rough with—”
“Your prey?” she supplied.
“I don’t see you like that.”
“No? So if I tilted my head and pulled my hair out of your way, you wouldn’t come after me again? Tear into my skin with your teeth and drink my blood?” She angled her head so that her hair fell away from the smooth lines of her throat.
He could see her pulse pounding beneath her skin, feel the power of the magic that beat there, rich and intoxicating.
She was meant to sustain him the way Hope sustained Logan. He was certain of it. Why else would she compel him so completely?
Ronan had expended a lot of energy chasing after her, and more healing Joseph. He was still functional, still strong enough to keep going despite the hunger rolling around in his empty belly—a hunger human food couldn’t touch. Nothing had eased that bone-deep, gnawing starvation the way her blood did, and now she was posed as if offering him another taste.
He saw the glow his eyes cast as his gaze slid over her body, homing in on her throat. His mouth watered for her. His chest worked overtime trying to draw her scent into his lungs and hold it there. Normally, his sense of smell was much stronger, but the sun had weakened all his abilities. Until it set, he would never be able to get enough of her scent.
He needed this woman in a way he couldn’t understand or describe. The urge to feed from her nearly overwhelmed him, but he reminded himself that this was about the war, not the battle. If he was to win the woman, he had to let her think he was nice and safe, not the ravenous predator that lurked within him.
“I would be so very gentle with you,” he told her. “I could make you feel so good, make your whole body shimmer with pleasure.”
She swallowed hard, the movement a helpful distraction from the hot pulse pounding along her neck. He was able to break the spell her blood held over him and look into her beautiful eyes. Midnight pupils ate up the silvery green ring. “Yeah. Not going to happen. Ever. Keep your damn fangs to yourself.”
He was losing ground with her. He could feel her slipping away, feel her nervousness rising with every passing second. If he didn’t do something fast, she was going to bolt.
Ronan forced himself to back up and put a vehicle between them. That seemed to ease her nerves and got her to move away from the dented wall.