She turned to aid Meg in her preparations. Meg was creating a small nest in which to rest. She had gathered leaves and vines to make a bed. Kaja didn’t need it. She would change and be perfectly fine, but Meg obviously wanted a bit of comfort. After the day she’d had, Meg deserved it.
Kaja was just about to lean over and gather leaves from the ground of the forest when a damp hand reached out and grabbed her elbow. She turned and looked up into stern eyes that were the color of the forest. Dante’s jaw was set in a firm line as he towered over her. He was so beautiful it hurt her heart to look at him.
“It wasn’t a question, Kaja.”
She tried to pull her arm away, but he held tight. “I am tired. I wish to rest.”
It would be easy to refuse, to run, if he didn’t move her in a way she’d never felt before. She’d been sure he wouldn’t come after her when she’d gone to save her gnome captor. She’d stared up at the ogre and realized that death had come for her. She would have gone down fighting, but she would have gone down.
And then he’d been there, yelling at her. His face had been contorted in rage and some strange worry. For her. He was so much smaller than the creature, and he’d only had Kaja to distract the ogre, yet Dante had triumphed. The ogre had fallen.
It had taken a piece of magic to force Dante to his knees.
That was the moment—when Dante had been struck with the nightmare magic that caused his big, beautiful body to shake—when Kaja had known she should leave. She’d felt the howl in her throat. It stuck there because she’d forced her jaw to stay closed, but the mating howl was inside her, and it was only for this man.
She could howl all she liked. He would not answer. He would not even understand what it meant, and if she explained it to him, his eyes would get that soft haze that told her she was an object of pity.
“I’ll take care of you,” Dante replied. “We’ll bed down close to Meg, but I want to spend time with my consort. This is our bonding time. I don’t care that we’re not alone. Meg can ignore it if she doesn’t like it.”
“There aren’t enough earplugs in the world,” Meg complained. Her hands went to her hips as she looked at Dante, obviously trying to keep her eyes on his face. “Now isn’t the time to bond, Dante. Like I don’t know what that means. Just lay your ass down and get some sleep. Beck and Cian will be here soon. Then you can paw the poor girl.”
The growl that came from Dante’s throat did all kinds of things to her woman’s parts. Pussy. Dante wanted her to call it a pussy. His fangs grew long. He moved toward Meg, never letting go of Kaja’s arm.
“And when your husbands return, I will have a long discussion with the warrior half about the way his wife places herself between me and my consort. We will discuss why you think you have rights over my consort and your definition of respect.”
Meg’s mouth dropped open, and Kaja didn’t miss the way Meg’s eyes slid away. “Wow, way to Dom a girl, Dante.”
Dante relaxed slightly, his arm curling around Kaja’s waist. He pulled her into the hard plane of his body. He brushed her hair with his nose, breathing deeply as though her scent brought him comfort. “Vampires get possessive of their consorts, Meg. Rather like Fae warriors and their bondmates. You should get used to me being a bit more dominant than I was before. And I’m hungry.”
A little thrill of fear went through Kaja. Dante was hungry. He needed blood. Her blood.
“Dante, I didn’t even think about that,” Meg said. “Kaja and I ate, but you don’t have any meal pills.”
Kaja didn’t miss the way his chest hitched or the feel of his cock against her thigh. He’d covered the lower portion of his body with hers when he’d begun to talk to Meg. Now his cock lengthened and hardened and caressed her butt.
“I have a consort. That’s all I need.” His nose ran along her hair. He spoke to Meg, but all of his attention seemed to be on Kaja. She’d never felt so attended to, so fixated upon. It was like she was his prey, but he wasn’t going to kill her. That was not his intent. He didn’t want her dead, merely willing to feed his hunger.
He’d saved her life. She did owe him a bit of blood. Without his intervention, she would have stayed in her cage and died when the ogre came. She would never have known what it felt like to be pressed against another body, scents mingling until she couldn’t tell where she ended and Dante began.
“I will feed you,” Kaja said quietly. She was going back on what she knew was right, but she seemed to take every opportunity to stay close to him. She couldn’t seem to help herself. She would pay for this intimacy, but she would have it.
Meg nodded. “There’s some space behind the waterfall. It’s nice, and the moon filters in so you can see. The grass is soft. I found it when I bathed earlier. I’ll stay out here and get some sleep.”
“Come, Kaja.” The command was still there in Dante’s voice, but there was a smoothness now as well.
Still, she hesitated. The pond was so much bigger than the tub. “I can feed you here on land.”
“That’s not what I want, Kaja,” he growled. He placed his forehead to hers and took a long breath. “I’m on edge, sweetheart. Please forgive me. It’s been a trying day. I’ll try to explain it to you. This first time is important. I’ve never fed from a woman before. I want it to be special.”
Special. She understood the word, but now she felt it. He’d never fed from a woman before. She’d never been so close to a man before. He’d given her that. He’d been the one to make her feel included. When he commanded her, it made her feel safe and wanted. He seemed to know all of her weaknesses.
Now he said a word that tugged at her.
“Please, Kaja. Come with me. Trust me. I’ll take care of you.”
No one had ever said please to her before. Kaja placed her hand in his.
“I don’t understand your preoccupation with water,” Kaja said, her hand shaking a little as she pulled the shirt over her head and let it fall to the ground. She hadn’t drowned in the tub, but she still would prefer to not go into the pond. Her feet hit the water. It was slightly cool. The ground under her was a soft sand. Yes. She sought that magic memory Dante had given her. Sand was the word for this ground. She sank slightly, her toes wiggling around in the soft stuff. It felt nice.