Page 114 of King of Hollywood
Enraptured, I watched in real time as Felix came to that conclusion too. He stared at Barry, his eyes wide, a slow, curling smile stretching across his lips. His gaze snapped to me, and I…well… I shuddered, unable to help myself.
Then, just as quickly as he’d become a predator, my little love melted. The bloodlust faded, his eyes warm, his broad shoulders relaxed.
“You’re filthy,” Felix said softly, clucking in concern as he crossed the distance between us, reaching out to smooth his hands over my tux. He got icing on them, and I smiled—unable to help myself.
“You’ve got a little—” I grabbed a handkerchief from my pocket, reaching out to gently dab at the blood on Felix’s face. Normally, I’d want to taste it. To taste his depravity. But apparently, even I had my limits.
And tasting anything that had been inside Barry (the soon-to-be bloated) was one of them.
“Thank you,” Felix smiled at me. He looked…a little nervous. But I quickly soothed his fears, pulling him in tight, my lips at his ear.
“I have never been harder in all my life,” I murmured, just to feel him shiver.
“Fuck,” he responded, fingers finding my hips, digging in.
“Soon,” I countered—teasing him, like he liked to tease me.
The crowd continued to stand around the edges of the lawn, expressions vacant. As though they hadn’t witnessed the bloodbath we’d caused at all. Barry’s corpse, lying in the wedding cake, felt like a symbol if I’d ever seen one.
“Felix…” I said softly, kissing the shell of his lovely, almost pointy ear.
“Marshall,” he murmured, tipping into the touch.
“I know I’m covered in cake—”
“You are.”
“I know you’re probably disappointed that tonight did not go as planned.” I knew I was. A bit—maybe not a lot, as this had ended far more entertaining than I’d been expecting. There were a few beats we hadn’t met, however, that I was missing.
“I am,” he tipped his head up, and I moved back to look down at him. To look down at the monster I loved, as the beast inside me roared with pride. He was mine, mine, mine. Sharp teeth, murderous tendencies, and all.
“How long can you maintain control of the crowd?” I asked softly, grabbing his face, smearing icing with my fingers. Felix grinned, his eyes crinkling. The lovely swoop and dive of the waltz that played over the speakers filled the air. Crickets chirped. The stars were high above.
“A while.”
I reached into my back pocket, removing the item—the gift—I’d bought him weeks ago from it.
I offered it to him, and his dark brow furrowed as he opened the tiny velvet box. A startled sound escaped him, his eyes widening as the two matching rings glinted up at him. “Marshall…” he said softly, voice hoarse.
“It’s not a wedding ring,” I said softly. “At least…not yet.”
“I see.” I grabbed one of the rings from the box, bringing his hand up—his blood-streaked hand—and slid the ring onto his ring finger.
“But it could be. When you’re ready.”
“When I’m ready,” he said softly, staring down at it, eyes flickering with emotion.
“See?” I slid the other one on, allowing him to pocket the box himself, as I pressed our hands together, fingers tangling. The rings tapped, and Felix stared at them—stared at our mismatched hands, his small, mine large. He sucked in an overwhelmed little breath. “We match.”
“We do,” he murmured, and I knew he wasn’t just talking about the rings.
But something deeper, something more central.
It wasn’t often a monster found his mate.
He knew that as well as I did.
“Now that that’s over with,” I hummed, catching his gaze, my heart pounding. “We’re here. We’re dressed—the music is still playing.”
