Veronica's Fallacy

25.

-HER-

I focused on making the salad while Grim cooked the chicken. Even after the heated moments, the sexual tension sizzled between us, reminding me of what he could have been doing instead of making me dinner.

I was feeling slightly sore from being eaten so intensely, yet I hadn't gotten the opportunity to touch him or please him. Even though he moved gracefully and seemed calmer than before, I could feel the heat of desire radiating off him. I should've done something for him in return, but I got overwhelmed by his intensity. Not in a bad way, though. It was because I hadn't had any action in an awfully long time.

His back was turned to me as he cooked the chicken. He was still shirtless, letting me watch his back corded with muscles and the ink swirling all over them in patterns and letters I didn't understand. Nonetheless, he looked mouthwatering, and a part of me wanted to drag him back to finish what we started.

"I know you're watching me," He commented, a hint of amusement in his voice. I bit my lip. There was no denying that.

"What do your tattoos mean?" I asked, not wanting to admit that I was ogling at him for entirely different reasons. The tattoos were just one aspect of it. He looked over his shoulder at me, and I didn't miss how his neck and upper back muscles flexed so beautifully that my hands itched to touch them.

No....Veronica, focus!

"They are runes," He explained. "I got them a long time ago,"

"Runes... do they work?" I had to ask. I wanted to know why he got them, but asking that felt too personal.

"Mostly," He let out a bark of a laugh, "They're majorly ceremonial,"

"Ceremony for what?" I asked, abandoning the veggies and stepping around the kitchen counter to look at his tattoos closely. They were interesting, especially with all the intricate details in them. It must've been painful to sit through the whole process of the inking. I couldn't resist tracing one of the ink swirls that travelled along his spine with my fingers. I felt him grow tense beneath my fingers.

"It's similar to coming of age," He replied, his voice somewhat distant while he seemed to replay a memory. I continued tracing the swirls, but when he turned around, I stepped away. His eyes were dangerously dark as he watched me fervently. I tried to fight off the blush threatening to taint my neck and face.

"Is this an Underlord thing?" I asked, curious.

"No. It's a thing in my family," He nodded. "The chicken is done. Let's eat," He declared before I could ask him more questions. I noticed a pattern— he'd always divert the topic whenever it lingered around his family.

"The chicken tastes great," I nodded after taking the first bite. We ate together on the kitchen island instead of eating at the dining table. He smiled at me, pouring pomegranate wine for the both of us.

"I'll cook for you every day, and all you have to do is sit on my face," He teased, but the hunger remained in his voice. I tried not to choke on the food at that comment. It immediately shot a tinge of heat down my core, making me clench my thighs. I swear I could feel his tongue down there whenever he looked at me.

As if he knew about his effect on me, he smiled at me devilishly, his eyes filled with mischief.

"That's very generous of you," I said, simultaneously fighting the curl of heat between my legs and the blush. It felt like I was all over the place. But my wolf purred at his words, too eager to take his offer since she did all her thinking with the womb.

His smile widened, and the hunger in his eyes intensified.

"It's my pleasure, Veronica. You're my mate," He replied, and immediately, the small gushy feeling I had in my chest vanished.

Of course, he was generous with me because of the mate bond. Otherwise, I doubted if a man like him would ever consider doing such a thing for someone like me.

It further made me wonder if this was all a play. It had to be. It had been only a few days since I met him, and he was swooning over me, staring at me as if I meant the world to him. This wasn't a rational reaction. Of course, it was that damned mate bond making him act like that... or it could be all part of his facade altogether.

"I want to talk about Victor," I told him, starting to pull back from him. I felt foolish to have allowed myself to be vulnerable with him. I should've been more cautious around him. Mate Bond wasn't a joke. It was nothing but a dangerous illusion...but a part of me ached to know that his fervent stares, bright smiles and caring acts were all nothing but an effect of the mate bond. They weren't real. They couldn't be.

His expression changed at the mention of Victor. His jaw tightened, and so did his body.

"He's alive," He answered after a tense pause. I straightened up, stunned. I was expecting him to be dead after going missing for more than six months.

"Are you sure?" I asked.

"I'm certain he's alive, but I haven't found much other than that," He replied, his eyes searching my face for the playfulness that had been there a few moments ago.

"How did you know?" I probed. He clenched his jaw and looked past me; something dark flashed in his eyes. He was thinking of an answer... or rather thinking how much he should let me know. This was one of the aspects of our brief relationship that was already frustrating me. He never revealed the whole picture all at once.

In a way, we were similar, and it irked me.

"I maintain the records of the dead. I didn't find Victor's name anywhere on it," He answered, "I checked with my other sources too. They confirm the same and..." He trailed off.

"And?" I pushed, and his eyes returned to mine, tacking me with a harrowing look.

"He has been involved with the Underlords for a while," He told me. "I haven't uncovered what it was, but it's something shady,"

I leaned back, digesting the information. This was something new. I had thought Victor primarily dealt with cases regarding the packs and the rogues. I didn't know he had connections with the Underlords. This explained why I couldn't find any information on him earlier.

"Do you know the Underlords he had been involved with?" I asked, treading cautiously. The look on Grim's face was the darkest; it made the hair at the back of my neck stand up.

"I cannot name them yet," He answered, his jaw tight, "But he had some connections with the Night Court," I blanched, realising Victor might've dug his own grave where he was likely going to be buried alive.      

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