“The wolf wants to come out tonight.” I tapped my claws on his chest, thumping the collarbone.
“Looks like it,” he said, eyes shifting up to engage my gaze. “You're not quite everything you've been telling us, or maybe you're more. Werewolf?”
“Not fully,” I said. “And you might as well quit trying to pretend you're not at least ninety percent vampire.”
He smirked, then chuckled low. “How would you like to become my consort?”
I pushed him a little more, showing him my strength. “No, Drachen.”
“My room. Come and check it for Dreadfuls?” he suggested, thick brows wiggled.
“Nice try. There are no more Dreadfuls in this house,” I said, reading the leering look on his face. Vampire males were very possessive. Once a vampire had marked you, you were his, no matter who said different. Vasyl
