He looked down at his body and a very male, very satisfied smile spread on his lips. “That you have, love. And I’m more than happy to bear your mark.”
Love. Somehow, that word, no matter how innocently he’d used it, no longer filled Naya with fear.
CHAPTER
24
Ronan had never known a more extraordinary female. Naya was everything he could have ever asked for in a mate: strong, fierce, sensual. She was a warrior and a protector. Brave.
And ah, gods, when she’d asked for his blood … The request alone had nearly made him go off. Naya wasn’t a vampire. Neither magic nor biology would allow for her to be turned. Ronan had despaired of ever experiencing that aspect of the bond with her: The sharing of blood was a sacred act between mates and lovers alike. But perhaps he and Naya could overcome that hurdle. It was a small thing in comparison to the many obstacles that still stood in their way.
“I need to go talk to Paul.”
Her voice was little more than a whisper in the darkened room. Ronan shifted, rolling over and tucking her back against his chest. He slung one arm over her torso and she wove her fingers with his while she traced his knuckles with her free hand. Such a peaceful, blissful moment. And it fucking sucked that one of those obstacles he worried about would interrupt the intimacy that had begun to grow between them.
“Wait for sundown. I’ll go with you.”
Naya let out a soft snort. “The hell you will. Did you forget there’s a bounty on your head? You’re not going anywhere near Paul or Joaquin.”
Her tone didn’t carry the usual sharp edge. Ronan reached up to comb his fingers through the dark tangles of her hair. Gods, he loved the way it slid against his skin like silk.
“Tell me about Siobhan,” Naya said just above a whisper. “What sort of female is she?”
A twinge of jealousy and hurt flared through their tether. It pissed Ronan off that the spiteful dhampir would affect Naya in such a way. Siobhan should have been a part of his past, already forgotten. Not a glaring presence that would have to be dealt with before their relationship could move forward.
“The sort that would eat her young,” Ronan said with a soft laugh. “She’s a fighter. Intelligent. Calculating.” Obviously. She’d secured his troth, hadn’t she? “She’s loyal to those who are loyal to her.”
“Is she beautiful?”
Siobhan’s beauty was fierce, like a fire burning through dry forest. “Yes.” It wouldn’t do either of them any good to lie for whatever reason, and Ronan knew that Naya would consider it an affront if he tried to spare her feelings. “But so are roses. And yet, they’re riddled with thorns.”
“Heh,” Naya chuffed. “True.” A pregnant pause followed and Naya continued to trace up and over his knuckles. “Did you love her?”
Ronan had felt many things for Siobhan, but none of them was love. “No. Siobhan is not a female who you love.” In fact, Ronan couldn’t imagine her feeling a tender emotion for anyone or anything.
“I see,” Naya said. Pity rippled through the tether and it turned Ronan’s stomach. “She’s just a female you fucked?”
He supposed the context of his relationship with Siobhan came off as callous. They’d both been aware of the terms, though, and Siobhan had never been the sort of female to cleave to any male. She was above the sort of weaknesses created by love and attachment.
“Naya.” He’d never been an articulate male. Ronan took action and asked questions later. He’d never had to explain himself to anyone. “If you knew Siobhan, you wouldn’t feel sorry for her. What we had was a mutually beneficial relationship with no strings attached.” That is, until she’d felt the need to claim ownership of him. “Siobhan didn’t demand the blood troth because she harbored a deep affection for me. It’s because she hates to lose. Anything. And she knew I was slipping away.”
“I don’t feel sorry for her.” Naya turned in his embrace to face him. Her expression was etched with so much tender emotion that it settled as a deep ache in Ronan’s chest. She reached up to cup his cheek in her palm. “I feel sorry for you. You must have been lonely to seek out such a cold and emotionless relationship with a female who would treat you like you were some sort of possession.”
Had he been lonely? Ronan had never thought about it. He existed. Worked. Though his line of business was hardly morally rewarding. He spent time with Jenner and Mikhail. Fed when his thirst crested. Fucked when there was a willing female. Siobhan had satisfied his needs well; she’d been a skilled lover and never held back in bed. But there had not been an ounce of tenderness between them. He’d never held her in her arms. Never stroked her hair. He’d never searched her emerald and silver gaze and wondered what she might be thinking.