There was no pain this time when he bit her, only numbness. She almost cried in relief. He didn't hurt her, even when she had obviously infuriated him. He drank longer than he had before and withdrew at last with a satisfied growl.
"Can't take you anywhere without you beheading folks," she whispered.
"That I let them die fast is not something I'll do for you if you betray me again."
"I'd rather die than be stuck in a cave."
"You think I can't replace you with a willing nymph who knows her place?"
By the stillness of the body at her back, he was deciding her fate. She waited, her breathing growing shallower and faster.
"Now you have nothing to say," he snarled. "You taste like cheap whiskey."
His words were accompanied by a push. He walked away. She gasped in air, heart soaring. She'd escaped death again, but how many lives did she have? Near hyperventilating, she bent over and drew in deep breaths until moonlight revealed the dismembered hand near her feet.
She darted after him, cold on the inside yet still buzzing from whiskey. He walked through the town to a large bed and breakfast near its edge. She didn't look up as they walked through a comfortable living room with several guests talking loudly about the fire. They grew silent as Rhyn entered and stared her down as well.
She followed him up a set of regal stairs to the second floor, where multiple rooms lined a hallway. He disappeared into one without turning on the light. She trailed, groping around the wall nearest the door until she found a light switch.
There were two beds in the room and a single bathroom off to one side along with a small living area. He said nothing, and she sensed his simmering anger. She sat on a trunk at the end of one bed. He flung off clothing soaked with blood, stripping with his back to her without one concern about her watching.
He was muscled like the panther-beast he turned into. She felt both awed and terrified watching his rippling, shapely muscles move beneath the olive skin. His shoulders and upper arms bulged while his long torso was lean and chiseled. He changed mechanically, as if accustomed to removing bloody clothing several times a day. He tugged on loose judo pants and flung himself on his back on the bed nearest the door.
"You're acting like you're normal," she objected, tears rising. "What the fuck is wrong with you? You run around turning into animals and tearing off people's heads and then just…a bed and breakfast? Come on! Now you'll just lay there and go to sleep? Is this where you hung out while I was in that cave?"