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I moved my mouth to the other side of her abused neck and sealed one of the bites closed, then another. “She’s given too much.”

“If you have ever trusted me in your four hundred years, Alekxander, trust me now. Trust me as you did the night your parents died.” He stared down at me with determination in his eyes. “I took Avianna away from these shores. I took her to safety. I will do the same for you. Drink. I will not let you kill her.”

Already I could feel the bites of electricity in my brain, the poison refusing to let go. It surged like it was a living, breathing thing, fighting off its own death at the hands of its unwilling host. Get the fuck out.

I latched onto an open cut in Lyric’s neck and drank gently, listening to the sluggish beats of her heart that came further and further apart.

“There. Almost,” Julian leaned over me in a way I never would have allowed if I wasn’t tied to my fucking bed like the beast I’d become. No male should ever witness something this intimate between a mated pair, but it wasn’t like I had a mirror over the bed.

Another pull. Then another.

There were now almost two—no, three seconds between the beats of her heart.

Julian put his fingers over her pulse point and stared at me clinically, his eyes narrowing slightly as I took another tiny sip, my fear for her life overwhelming the basic drive to survive. I felt the poison dissipate as my powers came back with a roar, vibrating the very stones in the walls.

“There! Now!” His hands touched the clasps of the chains at my wrists and ankles, and they fell away with a clatter.

“Get the fuck out!” I roared, flipping Lyric under me.

“My pleasure!” he called over his shoulder as the male sprinted for the chamber door, which I already had open for his departure. “He’s okay! Hopefully they both will—”

I slammed the fucking thing.

“Okay, baby. Here we go.” I angled my neck over hers, but she didn’t strike. “Feed, Lyric!”

Her breaths were shallow, and those beautiful green eyes were shut. If not for the random beats of her heart, I would have thought she was dead.

I ripped open my wrist with a fang and held the cut over her parted lips. “You’d better fucking be right,” I muttered at Julian even though he wasn’t here. If I was pouring Night Thistle down my wife’s throat I was going to slaughter the goddamned scholar.

“Come on, baby, drink,” I ordered, stroking the column of her throat with my thumb and coaxing her to swallow. Drink, Lyric. Please, my love. I won’t live without you. Pushing the words down the bond that flickered between us, I used my powers to move the muscles in her throat, forcing each movement.

She came awake with a gasp, her eyes flying open. Bloodlust. She could have whatever the fuck she wanted out of me.

“My love,” I leaned my forehead against hers as my chest swelled to bursting. She was still with me. She would live.

She ducked her head and struck at my throat, her fangs sinking deep as she drank. Fuck yes. Just as she’d risked her life to save mine, now it was my life pouring back into her with every greedy gulp and sigh of pleasure.

Heat licked up my spine and my cock leaped against her thigh. I needed her with a ferocity I’d never felt before. Every pull of her mouth at my neck sent a jolt of pleasure through my nerves and the hunger that had held me captive for the last—who fucking cares how long—was now pure, primal lust for my mate.

“God, Lyric,” I groaned.

She flipped me onto my back like I was nothing but a rag doll, and I let her. She could do whatever the fuck she wanted with me. She could drain me dry and my only thought would be for her health, her life.

The bloodlust was easing slightly, but she still feasted at my neck as her hands worked between us, unbuttoning my pants and taking me in hand.

“Fuck!” I gripped the exquisite curves of her hips as she stroked me from root to tip, groaning at my neck as she kicked something—her shoes—from the bed. Damn, the woman had just survived an abduction and beating, and then I’d almost drained her dry. She needed a little recovery time. “Lyric, my love, we don’t have to—”

“Alek, please,” she whimpered at my throat, her hands shoving at her jeans as she continued to suck, the wet sound managing to make me even harder.

A growl rumbled up from deep within my chest as she wiggled her ass out of those jeans, taking her panties with her. I used my powers to strip the cloth from her body, then did the same with my own.


Tags: Samantha Whiskey Onyx Assassins Fantasy