A breeze shifted behind him, across his backside, and Elissa grabbed his arm. He refused to heed her command when she tugged on it and remained facing away from her. She pulled harder and Payne turned on her, snapping his arm out of her grip and smacking her hand away when she tried to touch him again.
She flinched and cried out, the sound startling in the quiet room, and clutched her left wrist to her chest. Tears swam in her eyes and he could feel the pain beating in her heart, rushing through her blood. He had heard the bone crack.
He stopped himself from taking a step towards her and took a step back instead. “That was your fault.”
She didn’t deny it. She simply held her wrist and stared at him in silence. His guilt couldn’t erase his rage and his pain. It did nothing to dampen it and he only felt worse as he looked at her. He turned away again, unable to bear the sight of her now that he knew the truth.
“Payne?” she softly whispered his name and it stirred heat within him that he pretended not to feel.
He looked over his shoulder at her. Her silver eyes were beautiful, glittering with diamond dust as she used her magic to heal her broken wrist.
“It was my fault.” She looked down at her arm and then back up into his eyes. “And it isn’t about offspring or you being an incubus.”
He roared. “I’m a vampire.”
She shrank back, her fear flooding the room, and nodded even though he could see in her eyes that she wanted to mention that he wasn’t wholly vampire. He hated her for it but it didn’t stop him from wanting her. She fascinated him and made him weak, stripped his strength away and left him needing her, willing to do anything for another taste or touch.
Desperate to do anything to win her heart.
Impossible.
She had proven that barely a few minutes ago. His little witch wasn’t his after all. She had merely played him for a fool to make him do exactly as she had wanted. She had manipulated him.
He growled and glared at her, not hiding any of his anger or hurt. He wanted her to see what she had done. He needed her to know just how much she had hurt him and that things would never be the same between them.
“Witches are not supposed to mate with demons, and dark fae species like incubi are considered demons by my kind and others,” she whispered, as though afraid to voice it any louder in case it drew a violent reaction from him.
He kept his head and spoke calmly even though he wanted to grab her and scream it down her ear so she would finally get the message. “I’m not a demon. I’m a vampire.”
She didn’t nod this time. His hatred of her grew as she stared straight into his eyes in that way that always made him feel as though she was tearing his mask away to reveal the ugly truth beneath. He turned his back on her again.
“Don’t leave.” She moved behind him but stopped short of grabbing him. She was learning after all.
He wasn’t sure how he would react if she touched him again. His incubus and vampire sides were both angry and hurt, both out for blood and violence because neither understood why their mate had betrayed them. He didn’t understand. She was supposed to be his. He had foolishly begun to believe that the wonderful, incredible time they had spent together would blossom into something he had only ever dreamed would happen to him. He had wanted a mate. He almost laughed at himself.
He had spent so long denying his nature and his needs, shutting down his emotions and keeping his distance to protect himself, that he hadn’t realised that he wanted that from Elissa. He needed her to be his salvation. He had begun to hope that she would be the good that would balance out the bad in his life, the reward at the end of so much pain.
“I didn’t mean to upset you. It’s just... I have my reasons.” Her voice was soft, edged with warmth and concern that only hurt him all the more because he wasn’t sure how to react around or how to feel about her now.
“Other than using me to come here?” He wouldn’t let that one go. She had been gunning for him from the moment they had met. She had wanted to get into his pants and she had succeeded in doing what his last lover had failed to do. She had enslaved him, but rather than using his name to do it, she had used her body as the lure and his own heart as the shackles.
He pressed his hand to his chest and cursed himself for being idiotic enough to trust anyone again, let alone a witch.
“Please, Payne. Let me explain,” she said and he did her an honour she didn’t deserve.
He turned to face her because he needed to see in her eyes that she believed whatever poison was about to come out of her pretty mouth. She looked lost as she stood before him, body bare, vulnerable. He probably looked the same. Weak and pathetic. Easily broken.