Pure Blood_ A Nocturne City Novel - Caitlin Kittredge [89]
Dmitri stopped us at his black road bike. “Luna…” He sighed, fishing for his keys. “I don’t love Irina. She’s my mate. It’s my duty to my pack. That’s why you can’t understand.”
Any other day, in any other place, what Dmitri said would have made me jubilant. But with the clarity of trauma, I knew he was right. I didn’t understand why duty came before desire. I never had. And that was why a woman like Irina would always be chosen over someone like me.
“Ready?” Dmitri said, sticking the key into the ignition.
I whimpered, digging my fingers into the leather of his jacket as he set me gently on the bike, sidesaddle, and then swung my left leg over. He mistook my sounds for pain, which was fine by me. “Okay. Almost there.”
He got on in front of me and kicked the starter. “Hang on to me. I’ll take you home.”
CHAPTER 26
“Home” turned out to be the Redbacks’ flophouse. Dmitri carried me up the stairs and laid me gently on a bed that stank of Irina. He rattled around in the bathroom and eventually emerged with gauze, peroxide, and sans his shirt. He saw me staring and shrugged. “You smeared blood all over it.”
“Wouldn’t it make more sense to take me to the cottage?” I croaked. “I’m not exactly welcome around your pack.”
Dmitri shook his head. “They’d know to look for you there. What kind of white knight would I be if I dumped you off?”
“Crappy,” I said. He poured peroxide onto a wad of gauze and dabbed at my forehead. It stung like I’d walked into an electric fence. “Hex it!” I shrieked, knocking his hand away. “Just let me heal up on my own!”
Dmitri’s mouth pressed into a thin line, then he grabbed a hand mirror from the bedside table and thrust it in front of me. “Look at yourself. You’re not healing from that any time soon.”
In the mirror, I barely recognized my own face. My cheeks had swelled, I had an oozing cut on my forehead from hitting the wall, and my right eye was swollen almost shut, blue-black deep-tissue bruising kohling the skin around the socket. Joshua was good at what he did.
“Gods,” I said, pushing it away. “How can you even stand to look at me?”
“Please.” Dmitri snorted. “If I can get past your attitude, a little swelling ain’t gonna stop me.” He put peroxide on fresh gauze and handed it to me. “Clean yourself up. The blood smell is driving me crazy.”
“Making you crave virgin necks and fear garlic?” I said in a flippant tone as I dabbed at my cut lip. It stung even worse than my forehead and I hissed.
“No,” said Dmitri, pacing to the far side of the bedroom. “No, necks aren’t what I’m craving.”
I stopped dabbing at my face and met his eyes. They were cloudy and inscrutable. I took a breath, automatically scenting Dmitri like he was prey. His forehead creased. “Don’t do that.”
Arousal slammed into me, the mingled adrenaline from my escape and Dmitri’s pheromones colliding in midair. He groaned. “Look, this was a bad idea. I’m going to leave.”
“Don’t,” I said. Sometimes you just know when your life pivots on the next tick of the clock, and this was one of those times. If Dmitri still cared, he’d stay. If not, I’d well and truly lost him and anything we’d shared.
Simple. Animal. A lot less complicated than couples therapy.
“Don’t go, Dmitri,” I said again. “It’s okay.”
He hit the doorframe with the side of his closed fist. “Gods-damn it, Luna. If I stay, I’m not responsible for what happens.”
I set down the peroxide and sat up, drawing my legs under me. Daring him to come closer. “Fine. Neither am I.” My heart was beating loudly in my ears, and blood was rushing to all the tips of my body as the were reacted to Dmitri’s scent and the endorphins my body was pumping to cope with my injuries.
This was a lousy idea, but my animal brain didn’t care. It wanted what it wanted. Dmitri crossed the room in a few strides and pinned me back against the headboard, purring as he scented deeply of the blood on my face and neck.
“Stay with me,