“Food is food.” As long as it wasn’t diseased like the blood that ran in the veins of Lijuan’s reborn, it would keep him alive.
Andromeda shot him a knife-edged glance that made him happy his mate had claws—and angry she was using them on him when he hadn’t done anything wrong. “I’ve heard the women in the Refuge talk about how sensual it is when you feed from them.”
Naasir shrugged. “Cooperative food is better than noncooperative food.” When he needed to hunt, he went after meat prey. For blood, he took no one who wasn’t consenting. “But the Refuge food is too cooperative,” he grumbled. “How much blood do they think I can drink?”
Mouth falling open, Andromeda shook her head. She’d braided her hair again so it was as restrained as possible, but her eyes sparkled with wildness. Then she began to laugh, clapping her hand over her mouth to stifle the sound. Fascinated, he just watched those bright, sparkling eyes. Every time she tried to speak, she started to laugh again, so he just let her until she’d tired herself out. And he enjoyed her pleasure.
“What’s so funny?” he asked when she finally spluttered into giggles.
“All those women,” she whispered, eyes crinkling up again. “They boast about how you feed from them, the implication being that you find each one deeply attractive—and you think of them as food!” She doubled over again, shoulders shaking as she tried futilely to stifle the sounds.
Not that it mattered; there was no one to hear but him.
Grinning at the wicked glee he’d glimpsed in her, he stroked his hand down the center of her wings in a petting gesture. “They have different-tasting blood,” he told her. “I think it has to do with their diet. I like the variety. Like going to different restaurants.”
She fell to the ground, she was laughing so hard by now. Tears leaked out of her eyes. “Stop it,” she managed to say between her giggles before setting her sword on the grassy earth and clamping both hands over her mouth as she lay on her back.
Straddling his fierce, sparkling, delicious-smelling mate with his knees on either side of her thighs, he braced his body on his palms above her. “Shall I tell you a secret?”
Laughter still holding her captive, she shook her head, but he could tell she wanted to know.
He levered himself down until he was bare inches from the lush-lipped mouth over which she still had her hands. “If Dmitri hadn’t taught me to be civilized,” he whispered, “I’d probably have eaten some of the women by now.”
When Andromeda’s eyes went huge, he realized he’d made a mistake, shown her too much of his nature. About to push off her before she screamed or acted terrified because he wasn’t sure he could handle the hurt, he was held in place by her grip on his T-shirt.
Hauling him down, she whispered, “Are you making fun?”
He knew he should lie, but he didn’t want to be with anyone who expected him to hide himself. Janvier and Ashwini didn’t hide themselves from each other. Honor knew all of Dmitri’s secrets. “No,” he said. “I’m fully capable of eating a person, but I’d have to hate them and be really hungry.” He thought about telling her what he’d done to the angel who’d created him, decided to see how she took this first truth.
Tiny lines formed between her eyebrows. “Do you think of me as food?” It was a snarl.
“No.” Muscles easing, he rubbed his nose over hers. “If I bite you, it’ll be in play. And if I eat you up, it’ll be because I have my tongue in your—”
She slammed her hand over his mouth.
*