Total pages in book: 53
Estimated words: 51358 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 257(@200wpm)___ 205(@250wpm)___ 171(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 51358 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 257(@200wpm)___ 205(@250wpm)___ 171(@300wpm)
He shrugs. “You can’t,” he says matter-of-factly. And yeah, he’s a bajillion-year-old hunter, but still. He could pretend to be intimidated. “But if it gets you there, then use it.”
“Gets me there?” I gape at him. My entire body feels too hot. The island is warm and humid even at night, and normally I’d be jumping up and down at the prospect of wearing nothing but bikinis and sundresses all night long, but now? God, I can’t breathe with him looking at me like that.
Dagon steps closer, until there’s only a few inches of space between us. “I told you, emotion is your way in. It’s a powerful tool. Use it. If it’s anger, go for it. If it’s sadness or happiness or whatever, use it.”
My heart races. He’s so close I could reach out and touch him if I wanted. Could run my fingers over that muscled chest and see what he feels like. My fangs ache, desperate to sink into—
Nope.
He’s my teacher.
And he wants nothing to do with me.
Focus.
I take a breath. “Okay,” I say, hating the way my voice sounds so small.
I turn toward the water, doing my best to focus on that sensation in my blood, the one altering me to the mass of liquid around me. I can feel it, but it’s also like it’s trapped behind something. A roadblock whenever I try to grab it.
“Are you trying?” Dagon asks after a few minutes.
I glare at him. “Yes.”
He raises his hands in defense, falling quiet again as I focus.
Move. Come on. Move.
“What emotion are you using?” he asks after another few minutes goes by and nothing happens.
“I don’t know,” I sigh. “Frustration?”
He laughs. “That’s not going to work.”
“You said use whatever I was feeling!”
“I said use what works,” he fires back. “What gets you there.” He rolls his eyes. “Get in the water.”
“What?”
“Come on,” he says, kicking off his shoes and wading into the water.
I hesitate, stunned by the way the bottom of his white shirt looks clinging to his carved abdomen.
“There’s nothing in here that will bite you,” he chides me.
Except him.
A flutter ripples down the center of me, the image of him sinking his fangs into my neck making my skin feel too tight for my body.
Damn. I need to stop using that fantasy when I touch myself. It’s bleeding into my reality a little too much.
I hurry out of my shoes, and timidly step into the water, stopping a foot away from him.
“Now what?” I ask.
“What do you feel?”
I sigh. “The water feels nice. It’s warm—”
“Not physically,” he says. “Emotionally?”
I press my lips together. Hungry. Needy. Achy.
“Frustrated,” I admit.
He groans. “Draw up anything else,” he says. “Whatever you were thinking about when you froze everything in the bathroom. Or whatever you were thinking when you made the water explode yesterday.”
A knot forms in my throat.
Him. I was thinking about him both times.
“Okay,” I say. “But then what? After I think about that…what do I do?”
He opens and closes his lips a few times. “You use it.” He shrugs. “It’s hard to explain.”
“You can’t even try to break it down into steps for me?”
“There isn’t an instruction manual for this,” he says. “You just make it work.”
“I’m so glad you’re my teacher. You make it so easy.”
“Hey, I didn’t ask to be here,” he snaps.
“So you keep reminding me,” I fire back, humiliation clinging to the sharpness inside me.
The water ripples between us, just enough to splash his chest.
Dagon smiles. “Seems like anger gets you there.”
I press my lips together, holding onto it.
Clinging to the fact that Alek had to order him to teach me, to work with me. To the fact that I can’t get him out of my head, even when I try. To the way he looks, grinning at me like he’s actually proud of me when he never says as much.
Another wave builds between us, and excitement thrills through me at the way it feels, like I’m one with the water—
It drops.
“Ugh!” I smack the water in frustration.
Dagon chuckles.
I glare at him. “You do it then if you’re so perfect!”
His grin deepens as he raises his arms, his biceps curling. Water rises in two large pillars behind him, gathering in soft, swirling spirals as they shoot toward the sky.
He’s breathtaking, standing there holding the water, wielding it like it’s as easy as breathing. He’s...incredible. I can’t deny it.
“How long would you like me to hold it?” he asks, not a hint of exertion in his voice.
“Point made,” I grumble.
He drops his arms, and the water crashes over us both.
The coolness shocks me as it soaks my hair. “Prick!” I say, but I’m laughing, because he’s soaked too, every muscle evident beneath the white shirt that now clings to his body.
Hunger snaps through me like a lightning strike, not just because of his body or display of power, but his smile, that laugh. God, he looks so amazing when he smiles like that.