Total pages in book: 85
Estimated words: 79244 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 396(@200wpm)___ 317(@250wpm)___ 264(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 79244 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 396(@200wpm)___ 317(@250wpm)___ 264(@300wpm)
I’d be lying if I said he could have told me. If I found out about this room on the night we met, I’d consider him a serial killer and make a run for it. Now? I’m either brainwashed or in love. Given the circumstances, aren’t they one and the same?
Even now, the scent of his cologne calms me, and I lean into his touch instead of avoiding it.
“So your great-great-grandfather started all this?”
Damen nods and leads me along the wall of countless specimens. Each used to be a person, but I find myself caring less and less. After all, Damen told me they all deserved their fate, and he did promise not to lie.
“Yes. It was meant to be a one-time thing, but everyone involved enjoyed the sport of it. It also makes for a good closure at the end of each year, and thus a new tradition was born,” he adds before gesturing at an antique cabinet holding many glasses, and bottles of liquor. “Would you like a drink?”
“The oldest one you’ve got,” I say in amazement. It feels like I’m part of a secret society now, and there’s nothing I’ve ever wanted more in life than to be special. “And you’ve always wanted to take part…” I leave it open for him to fill in and watch him pull out a bottle with a vintage-looking label. Even the seal looks different than on the wine bottles I know, but I don’t stop him when he produces a corkscrew and opens the bottle.
“It’s a mark of maturity. Of course, people get married at different times, and for different reasons, so it’s rather arbitrary, but this family stands on tradition, and I suppose I wanted to have my cake and eat it.” He pours some of the dark red wine into two glasses, then wipes the excess off the bottle’s mouth with something close to reverence. Moments later, we are both holding our drinks, and he’s embracing me. “I didn’t expect my rebellious decision would bring a treasure like you into my life. To a long and happy life, together,” he says and clinks his glass to mine.
I smile and take a sip of the wine, which for all I know might be more expensive than the engagement ring on my finger. I'm no wine connoisseur but even I can appreciate the depth of flavor on my tongue. It’s on the tart side, but with a hint of sweetness that only reveals itself after my next sip.
“To a forever,” I whisper, holding his gaze.
Damen bites his lip and strokes my cheek, keeping me so very close it has my heart skipping a beat. “Now this is also your legacy. You will always be a part of this family, mon chéri.”
My heart flutters, like it does every time he calls me that, and he goes on.
“I’ve wanted to take part in the hunt for so long. I was trained to kill and had the instinct for it, so being denied the honor just because I wasn’t married felt like a slap to the face after all I’ve done for my family. And until I met you, until you planted the perfect idea in my head, I thought I had to marry a woman to be granted the privilege. I thought the message was that I could either be gay or married, when now I see so clearly that I can have both.” He leans close and kisses my temple as we stroll along the wall filled with death. “Titus lorded his wins over me for many years, like the kills were comparable to the hard choices I had to make out there, working in much harsher conditions to secure our family’s position. I’m pretty sure that’s why he’s so furious. He can’t stand that tomorrow everyone will find out he’s far from being our most prolific hunter. All thanks to you.”
I ingest all this information as though it’s tastier than the wine. I’m greedy for every detail about Damen. We might not be married yet, but in my mind, he’s already my husband.
“And do you… like to hunt?” I ask as I take my last gulp of wine.
His lips crook like the crescent moon, and he finishes his own drink before placing both glasses on the cabinet. “Does that excite you? That I can track any prey of my choosing and take its life without it even noticing that I’m near?” he asks, pulling his very fingertips across my neck as if he’s assessing my pulse, wondering what it would take to still it.
I never thought about it, but when he puts it this way… yes, yes it does excite me. I swallow, hypnotized by his gaze. “Maybe a little.” Understatement of the year. He is a predator through and through—that is what always attracts me to men—but unlike my exes, he doesn’t use that power to make me small and unimportant. He wants to make me happy. He cares about me. Some would say it’s madness that a man like Damen, who quite literally keeps corpses in his basement, makes me feel safe, but I can’t stop my heart beating for him.