I stopped short when Mason pounced in front of me and grabbed my chin between his fingers. “Needs? You think he can measure your needs? Am I doing such a horrible job?”
“You’re angry,” I whispered, tears filling my eyes. “Why are you angry?”
His nostrils flared. “Am I not doing a good enough job for you? What else could you possibly need? I fed you. I gave you a blanket. I made you comfortable, and I healed your scars!” Each word came out louder than the next until his body was humming with barely pent-up aggression.
I instinctually tried to pull away.
He just held onto me tighter.
“What. Do. You. Need?” he repeated.
“B-blood.” I felt shame. I didn’t know why. Maybe it was because I felt weak, and I hated it; maybe another part of me didn’t want to seem dependent. But it was a way of life, and it was what helped give me life.
He dropped my chin immediately and staggered backward. You’d have thought I’d just told him the boogey man existed and was living in my head.
“Mason?”
He shook his head and then bit back a curse so loud that my ears rang before he stomped away, and from the sounds of it, was breaking things in the kitchen.
Tears overflowed my eyes until I heard him coming back. I quickly wiped my cheeks and tossed the blanket over my body, not only so I looked like I was comfortable, but also to put a barrier between us.
Like a fur blanket would do anything if he wanted to pounce. I was a weak little lamb compared to his bear-like stature.
“Here.” He thrust a glass in my direction, causing some of the contents to slip over the edge and onto his hand.
Blood.
He looked down, his breathing heavy. “Take it, damn it!”
I grabbed the glass before it spilled, noticing how his hand shook as blood dripped down his fingertips. His eyes flashed blue again, and then he was bracing himself against the mantle on the fireplace. I was afraid he was going to break it in half.
“Drink,” he urged in a gravelly voice that didn’t sound at all like him. It sounded more beast than man.
I chugged the blood, gulp after gulp; its tang was like thick tonic to my soul as it healed me from the inside out, knitting things back together that had been broken and numbing the pain that had been debilitating for two days.
I carefully put the glass on the table. “I’m done.”
He exhaled and turned; his blue eyes locked on to mine. “How did it taste?” His voice was still animalistic by nature, his eyes crazed. If I hadn’t known better, I’d have thought he was… Aroused… which should have terrified me; instead, I felt hot all over as his gaze raked up and down the blanket as if he could view me beneath, see my skin.
“Good.” The word finally tumbled from my blood-stained lips. “It tasted good. Thank you.”
He inclined his head and eyed the glass.
Did he want it?
I frowned at him.
He shook his head and then grabbed the remote and tossed it on the couch. “Go wild.” He started to walk off.
“Wait!” Why was I calling the monster back into the room again? “Um, where is everybody?”
He stiffened. “The council is out on official business for a few days. It’s just you and me.”
I couldn’t help the gulp, just like he probably couldn’t help the look of pain that flashed across his face as he glanced at me and the glass again.
“So, stay and watch Outlander?” I offered.
“Out what er?” he repeated, “Is that a movie?”