Free Ice Man by KyAnn Waters

stealthily moved to Theron’s sleeping chamber. Theron rested beneath a shimmering black sheet. He lay unmoving. Calmness and regret meshed, choking the breath from Rowan’s lungs.
    He jerked his shirt over his head, determined to undress and climb into bed with Theron.
    And Rowan, don’t ever again come to my bed dressed. The words weaved through his thoughts. Their last encounter had been rife with tension. He hated to think how Theron would react to his defiance tonight. He wouldn’t have long to wait. Theron stirred beneath the sheet.
    He quickly shed his clothing and climbed onto the bed.
    “I can smell him on you.”
    Rowan paused then inched closer. “You usually like the smell of men.”
    “Not on you.” He turned over and touched Rowan’s cheek, holding his face. “I know you enjoyed him.”
    Of course he would. For part of the night, they had shared Brett—mentally. Never again. As possessive as Theron was over him, he felt the same over Brett.
    “Yes, I did enjoy him.” He lowered his head, unable to stare into the drowning depths of Theron’s amber eyes.
    “Then it’s done.” Theron threaded his fingers around the nape of Rowan’s neck and pulled him close.
    He inhaled, drinking in his scent. Fangs dropped from his gums, glinting like enamel knives. Rowan gulped. If he bit him all would be lost. Theron should have sensed the alcohol poisoning his blood. His eyes slid closed, as much anticipating the high and fearing the euphoric pleasure that came from hosting. He waited, poised to accept Theron’s wrath once he entered his thoughts, discovered his deception. He’d not come to his bed to feed him but to drive a wedge through their relationship like a stake through the heart.
    But the sting of the bite didn’t come. His eyes opened and panic seized his thoughts. Theron’s gaze narrowed, focused intently on Rowan’s face. His lips pulled back in a snarl and brows furrowed. The beauty of Theron’s face morphed into a mask of rage. His eyes turned crimson and a low, menacing growl unfurled from his chest.
    Rowan scrambled back but Theron moved like lightning, straddling his torso. Unbelievable strength pinned him to the bed. Theron’s long, strong fingers closed around his throat. “Why?” he seethed.
    The one word sent a shiver over his flesh. He hadn’t expected violence but Rowan realized with perfect clarity that there was a side to Theron he’d never seen.
    “Do you think my charity has no bounds? That I would let you betray me, my breed?”
    Rowan shoved his palms against Theron’s chest but the vampire was as immoveable as steel. “I haven’t betrayed you.”
    Theron stretched his neck and his fangs dropped farther. He roared—a deafening thunder that shook the walls. Rowan clawed at Theron’s arms but his strength was waning. “Please,” he rasped, but couldn’t push the words from his throat. “I’m sorry.” He nearly blacked out from the pressure on his neck. He couldn’t breathe, couldn’t focus. Darkness closed in. He was passing out, perhaps dying. What had he done?
    * * * * *
     
    Pressure squeezed his head in a vise. Pain sliced through his throat as he swallowed. He groaned and struggled to turn onto his side. Where was he? He hurt too much to be dead. He lifted his head and blinked the room into focus. He lay naked on the floor in Theron’s sleeping chamber.
    How much time had passed? Not nearly enough. “Oh God.” He held his head, still buzzing from the effects of the alcohol.
    His vision adjusted to the dim light. He rose to his hands and knees. His head slumped between his shoulders. Slowly he lifted his gaze.
    “Oh shit!” He jerked, scrambling back several feet. Theron sat in the chair in the corner of the room. He was shirtless and wearing jeans, leaning forward, his elbows braced just above his knees and his hands pressed together, steepled under his chin. His eyes focused with steely intent, drilling into Rowan.
    “I want an