Paul thought that he was going to put up a fight. He got to his feet and raised his hands as if to shield or to threaten. He probably took one look at her and hoped he could manage a two-for-one. She waited for him to make a move, and when he finally lunged in her direction, Haydn didn’t even bother to kill him. She just tossed him back to a companion waiting in the shadows. The man dragged Paul back into the trees. If I couldn’t hear his screams, I might have pretended he had never been there.
Haydn looked down at me. She gave the tiniest bit of a smile and, in that instant, I was lost to her. By the time she lowered herself beside me, put her hand behind my neck and pulled me up to her, she could have done anything she wanted with me. I could feel her lips on my neck, small points against my skin. She could have drank her fill and left me for dead on the forest floor, and I would never have hated her for it.
But I had to ask. I’m sure I wasn’t the first, but I wanted it so badly.
“Don’t kill me. Please. I haven’t lived.”