His jaw flexed. “Even so, I should’ve been able to control myself instead of becoming a man with no control over his body.”
I laughed. “You are not only a man.”
“Just because I’m a Primal doesn’t mean my body responds differently.”
“I didn’t realize that Primals—or men in general—had such little control over their cocks,” I snapped, annoyed that he wouldexcuse his reaction,his pleasure, as something he had no control over.
“That’s not what I—never mind.” His eyes flared bright briefly. “Let me see your wound.”
“Whatever.” I grabbed the hem and the slip underneath, lifting them to my ribs. “It’s not bad. See?” I looked down, cringing slightly at the thin gash running along the left side of my waist. “Just a flesh wound.”
“There’s no such thing as a flesh wound.”
I started to lower my sweater, but Nyktos palmed my hips. The contact startled me enough that I didn’t protest as he lifted me onto the desk. His hands lingered there. The reminder of his strength was always a surprise. It made me feel incredibly dainty, and I was not even in the same realm asdainty. No part of me wasn’t, as Tavius had once said,plump.
Fucking gross bastard.
Gods, I almost wished he was still alive so I could shove something harder than a whip down his throat.
Nyktos’s eyes lifted to mine. “You’re projecting again.”
“Sorry,” I muttered as he reached for the cloth. “You don’t have to do this.”
“I know. I’m doing it because I want to.”
He’d said that before. And my reckless heart leapt, just like then. He pressed his fingers to the skin beneath the wound, the touch gentle and yet another shock. I jolted.
“Sorry.” He withdrew his hand. “I didn’t mean to cause pain.”
“You didn’t. It’s just…I wish your touch was warm again,” I said, which wasn’t entirely untrue. “Did it warm because you fed?” I asked, knowing that Nyktos rarely fed. From what I could gather, Primals didn’t need to feed often unless they were wounded and weakened. And I had weakened him, just a little, when I hit him with that blast of eather.
He shook his head. “My skin has never warmed to the touch after feeding. It has always been cold.”
“Then why…?” I figured it out. “The embers?”
“I am Death,” he reminded me. “And you carry the embers of life in you.Yourblood is what warmed my skin.”
“Will my blood have any other effects on you?”
There was a quick upward curl of his lips. “That is yet tobe seen.”
I was staring way too hard at his mouth, so I shifted my gaze to his…throat. Something about what he’d said didn’t make sense. He wasn’t the true Primal of Death, justaPrimal of Death. So why would his skin be cold in the first place? Then again, maybe it was because he was a Primal of Death.
Now I was just confusing myself. “I wonder if Taric could taste it. I mean, he knew I had at least one ember in me when he went through my memories, but if he hadn’t, would he still have known?”
Eather flashed brilliantly in Nyktos’s eyes. “No other will feed from you, so that’s not something you’ll need to worry about.”
My brows rose.
“But, yes,” he said, his voice thin. “He would’ve tasted it.”
“Does my blood taste like it smells?”
He was silent as he dipped the cloth into the water. “It tastes like a summer storm and the sun.”
An unsteady laugh left me as my chest warmed. “What does that even taste like?”
“Heat. Power.Life,” he said without hesitation. “Yet soft. Airy. Like sponge cake. Like…”