But it didn’t matter. There wasn’t time.
Bel was little more than a blur before sharp pain stabbed into Rafe’s throat. Fingers dug into his shoulders, holding him in place. He cried out. The stabbing sensation gave way to intense burning throughout his body. The dryness in his veins was replaced by rushing acid, flowing to fill every part of him.
The pain was nothing compared to the shock that Bel had bitten him. Was feeding off him. Beneath it all, he could sense his brother’s hunger, the feeling of desperate gnawing starvation. And the hints of relief that followed with the first taste of Rafe’s blood.
Closing his eyes, Rafe tried to force himself to relax. Bel needed him. Bel needed to feed. He’d do anything for Bel. Anything for his three brothers.
“Release him, Bel! Release him!” Aiden commanded.
Rafe opened his eyes to see Aiden standing behind Bel and trying to pull him off Rafe, while another set of hands grabbed Rafe, dragging him in the opposite direction. Winter was pushing to his feet, his face so very pale and worried. For a flash, he thought Winter looked so much younger than his actual twenty-three years. Too young for this.
Flesh ripped, and Rafe cried out again. Aiden and Bel tumbled backward, Aiden landing on his ass. Rafe and Marcus crashed into a chair, but Marcus was quickly scrambling to his feet, putting distance between him and Rafe.
Or as Rafe was coming to guess, distance between himself and Rafe’s open wound. They were all starving for blood, and Rafe was now losing more than he could afford to be without.
Marcus tossed him a pristine white linen handkerchief. “Press it to the wound,” he ordered.
Rafe snatched it up and held it to his throat. The pain was easing, and he could now focus on Bel, who was sitting on the floor just a few feet away from him. Blood covered his mouth and dripped down his chin. Rafe’s blood.
But as horrifying as the sight of Bel was, there was no missing that his eyes were clearer, back to their crisp deep blue. Some of the paleness of his cheeks had disappeared. He blinked and cocked his head at Rafe a little. A motion that was so familiar, it sent a little ache through Rafe’s heart.
“Hello, Rafe. Are you okay?” Bel inquired in his usual cheerful and sweet tone.
Rafe smiled and breathed a quiet sigh of relief. “Just fine, Bel. Everything is fine.”
Closing his eyes, Rafe tried to ignore the feel of the blood seeping through the cloth pressed to his neck.
Anything for his brother. Anything for his family.
Chapter Two
October 14, 2019
“Marcus has lost his bloody mind.”
Rafe leaned heavily against the bar, sipping his blood-infused scotch. He glanced over at the violin resting within reach in its case. The warm red-and-brown wood seemed to glow beside the red satin interior, calling to him, but he picked up his glass instead and tossed back the last of his drink. The calming song of the violin or the hypnotic slide of the bow across the strings would not help this time.
He opened his mouth again to continue, but Lola held up a finger, halting his words. She was standing on the other side of the bar that graced the living room of his new penthouse. The crystal decanter clutched in her hand hovered over his now-empty glass. Rafe gave a small nod, and she refilled it as his ears finally picked up the soft patter of bare feet across his marble floor.
A woman appeared in the doorway leading from the master bedroom. Her hair was more than a little mussed, and the sparkly purple lipstick she’d been wearing was now missing, though there was still plenty of it smeared across Rafe’s body. Strappy black pumps were hanging off one finger as she crossed the room with a sated smile.
As she reached Rafe, she gave a little spin, presenting her back to him and the zipper that was only halfway up its track.
“Could you?” she asked softly.
Rafe almost missed the little smirk Karen, Sharon…no, Tara, tossed at Lola. His companion rolled her eyes and grabbed a glass for herself.
Pinching the tab between his thumb and forefinger, Rafe slid it slowly up her back and placed a kiss to her neck. To the exact place he’d fed from her just a couple of hours earlier. Not that she remembered that part. No, her brain was likely a bit fuzzy, but then she didn’t seem too worried about it after the multiple orgasms he’d given her in his bed just afterward.
“There you are, my dear,” Rafe purred.
Tara turned to face him. Rising up on the tips of her toes, she brushed a kiss across his cheek. “See you around,” she whispered and strolled toward the elevator that would take her to the ground floor, where he had a car already waiting for her.