Covet (Crave, #3)

by Tracy Wolff

Hudson holds up the book. “A Lesson Before Dying.” “A little late for that, isn’t it?” Flint asks, and after a shocked pause, everyone cracks up. Especially Hudson.

His gaze is locked on mine now. “But on the plus side, at least now I know you’re wearing my favorite pair.” My blush gets about a thousand times worse as it registers what he’s referring to, that I’m wearing the black lace underwear that he’d dangled from his shoe in the laundry room what feels like a year ago.

He’s teasing me, I know he is, but there’s something more than just a few laughs kindling in his eyes. Something dark and dangerous and just a little bit hot.

I know I should correct her, but the truth is, I don’t have it in me tonight to explain Hudson is just as eager to break up with me as Jaxon was.

and by chimes, I mean the chorus of Uncle Finn’s new favorite song, Billie Eilish’s “Bury a Friend.”

“Well, then maybe you should see me after class, too. You and Miss Foster can spend your weekend working on an extra-credit project together.” “I would—” A loud cracking sound fills the air, and half of Jaxon’s pen goes flying across the room. It bounces off Ms. Virago’s podium before rolling across the floor to land at her feet. She turns her stink eye on Jaxon and Flint who, God bless him, cracks up. Just full-on starts laughing like a hyena in the middle of class.

“Beautiful.” But he’s not looking at the flowers when he answers. He’s looking at me…and somehow that makes everything better and worse, all at the same time.

Instead, the moment our eyes meet, he smiles just a little and says, “How could I not want to be mated to my best friend? I’ve known you were incredible from the first day we met.”

I don’t pout Hudson: Oh, right. Sorry Hudson: You’re deflecting Hudson: Grumpily Me: How do you know that? Hudson: Because I know you

Besides the ridiculously cool library, which a quick trip through shows is mostly devoted to ancient philosophy, plays and poetry from all eras, and modern-day mystery-thrillers, there’s also a whole section of the undercroft that Hudson has devoted to his very extensive, very eclectic vinyl collection. Next to that are shelves filled with photographic equipment, which surprises me, since I had no idea he even liked to take pictures beyond the requisite selfies all vampires take, since they can’t see their reflection in mirrors. There’s also a couple of top-of-the-line printers, including a 3-D one and some impressive-looking stereo equipment.

Hudson throws axes. And, judging from the number of knicks and gouges near the targets’ bull’s-eyes, he throws them pretty damn well—which, in its own way, is as unexpected as the photography equipment.

“My Grace,” he whispers so softly that I’m not sure if I imagined it or not. Right before he cups my cheek in the palm of his hand and leans forward.

One minute, we were in the friend zone, and the next all I could think about was ripping his clothes off and climbing with him under those oh-so-sexy sheets.

I study his eyes, fascinated as his pupils grow so large that they swallow almost his entire iris, so that I can only see a rim of stormy blue along the edges.

At least until she whispers, “The vampire king did this. The vampire king betrayed us all.”

“The promise must be fulfilled. Forever…or until you remove the ring or the giver dies,” Falia says. “Which is why, despite everything, I’m grateful for this small piece of silver. Because it tells me my Vander is still alive, even after all these years.”

I take a deep breath and exhale, slowly pulling the magic back, whispering a “thank you” to the trees as I do, and I hear a whispering answer in return. Goodbye, daughter.

He grins. “Yeah, well, giants aren’t the only ones with a little earth magic. Besides, you deserve something perfect.” And then he reaches over and drops the most gorgeous, flawless diamond I have ever seen right into my hand. “Happy birthday, Grace.”

I roll my eyes but giggle anyway. I have the cockiest mate in history. And I wouldn’t change a thing about him. “Well, thank you.” “You’re very, very welcome.” His grin turns softer, more intimate, more…vulnerable than I’ve ever seen it.

“With all due respect, this isn’t about my family line,” Eden snarls. “This is about your son never being the man you wanted him to be, and everyone here knows it. You can pretend all you want, but I’ve spent almost my entire life at Court, and it was common knowledge. I’ve also gotten to know Hudson, and he’s turning out to be ten times the man your son was.”

Underwear and glass slippers optional. —H

And this dress, with its deep, deep V back is going to hit him somewhere a little lower than his heart…

Hudson groans low in his throat even as his hold goes from proprietary to full-on caveman.

We all laugh, and then I turn to Hudson. “Your turn.” He shakes his head. “I’ve got everything I need.” The fact that he’s staring at me when he says it doesn’t make my stomach flip at all.

Hudson groans low in his throat, and then he’s kissing me back, his lips and teeth and tongue ravaging mine like it’s the end of the world and this is the last kiss any two people will ever share.

He’s full-on laughing now, and it’s a good look on him. His eyes crinkle at the corners just a little, and that tiny dimple flashes in his left cheek.

“Eden, you shouldn’t have,” he says dryly. “Bro.” Flint narrows his eyes. “Unhand the shawarma and no one gets hurt.” “I am, quite literally, quaking in fear.” Hudson holds up the sandwich—in a rock-steady hand.

Rage explodes through me at the idea that that monster just gave up on him. She caused all of this and then, when he needs her, she just throws him away? She just cries a little bit and says too bad, so sad?

And as Hudson walks away, as he disappears down the hallway that leads to his room—the room I was supposed to spend the night in with him tonight—I tell myself it doesn’t matter. And that the breaking I feel deep inside myself is just my imagination.

“When I count to three, say ‘Fuck Cyrus’ as loud as you can,” she tells us. “One, two, three!” “Fuck Cyrus!” we all shout, and she takes the pic. And as I open it up a couple of minutes later and stare at the eight smiling faces, I pray to the universe as hard as I can that somehow, someway, we all make it through what’s to come in one piece…and together.

Hudson keeps tapping his thumb and middle finger together.

Hudson is the mate the universe gave me, and I’m the mate the universe gave him. But we still can’t be together…

Turns out, we’re quite the possessive pair.

I’ve never been more relieved to see someone wake up in my life. At least until he looks at me and whispers, “I don’t deserve to ever leave.”

“I know. But I think that’s the first time anyone has smacked my bum since I was…” He pauses to think about it, then shakes his head. “No, that’s the first time anyone has ever smacked my bum.” He doesn’t sound upset so much as contemplative. “Look at you,” Flint teases as he follows Calder down. “All kinds of new experiences in prison.”

The fact that he doesn’t even try to beat me to the bottom shows what a gentleman Hudson truly is.

His eyes darken at my tone, and just like that I’m back in that hotel room in New York, my arms and legs wrapped around Hudson while he does all the right things to those pieces he likes so much.

“It is real,” he says, and his voice is shaking in a way it so rarely does. “I hurt everyone. It’s what I do. It’s all I know how to do.”

Oh.

I can’t do anything but get hurt over and over again. Or, worse, get Hudson hurt, since he’s so hell-bent on trying to save me.

But he dashes a quick hand across his face, wipes the wetness aside as though his pain is unimportant. He’s in my face now, and I have never seen such rage and such love on one face at the same time in my entire life.

He’s smart and funny and sarcastic and sweet and strong and kind and hot. He’s everything I could ever ask for in a guy, everything I could ever want, all rolled into one unbelievably sexy package.

I reach deep inside myself and grab on to our blue string. I squeeze it as hard as I can and watch Hudson’s eyes widen. And I say, “I choose you.”

“When it’s done, when Flint is healed… I know I don’t have the right to ask anything else of you, Grace. But please, I don’t want…” He closes his eyes, as if ashamed. “I don’t want to die alone.”

I remember the story she told me of the price a dragon paid to the Crone in order to leave the Aethereum: his dragon heart. A fate worse than death, she’d said.

I would have done anything to take his place again. Anything for it not to have been my brother lying there cold and lifeless. Anything, that is, but give up Grace.

Even before she whispers, “I love you. I think I’ve always loved you.” And just like that, the bird takes flight. Still, I don’t throw myself at her feet and gush the way I’m desperate to—a man needs some dignity, after all. Instead, I smile and whisper, “I know,” right before I take her mouth with mine.

“I love you. I love you, I love you, I love you.” This time she kisses me, and there’s nothing brief about it. We don’t pull away until we’re breathless, our lips swollen and our bodies gasping for air. “I love you,” I tell her one more time.

“Ladies first,” Jaxon says as he waves Grace toward the portal. She elbows him a little on her way but then turns and blows me a kiss before diving headfirst into it. And she wonders why she never lands on her feet on the other side…