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Mission completed, Riaz’s beast cocked his head as if waiting for her to admit defeat. In her defense, she hadn’t tapped out, and wolves couldn’t climb trees. So technically, she was still unbeaten.
Huffing a sigh as if understanding her resistance, Riaz lowered himself to the ground, belly against the earth and stretched his massive, white-kissed paws out in front of him. Then, as if knowing how cute it was, he laid his snout between said paws, his beautiful orange eyes blinking up at her sadly.
Even Cortana had to confess: the wolf was adorable.
Not that she’d admit it out loud. “I can smell you from here. Eau de Wet Dog is not my favorite cologne.”
A wolfy whine earned a giggle from the vampire. Shaking her head, she leapt from the branches that were supposed to have concealed her and met the earth below.
Now, face to face with Riaz’s huge wolf, she smiled shyly. All her attention was focused on his silken coat. She tentatively extended her fingers toward him.
When he happily bumped his nose against her hand, she sunk her fingers into his fur. A noise of excitement involuntarily left her, delirious with the fluffiness that kissed her skin and left her wanting more.
Without asking, she moved closer, lowering herself to her knees and wrapping her arms around his scruff. Downy fur tickled against her cheek, and as she inhaled, the cedar scent that she associated with the man assaulted her senses.
The wolf was unquestioningly Riaz.
It didn’t stop her from sighing in contentment, continuing her leisurely caress. He stood, still panting a wolfy-smile, as she took her fill and nuzzled her face against his soft ears.
Then he was backing away, out of her grip. A question in her eyes, the wolf lowered his head and forelegs, his tail wagging wildly in the air as he assumed a playful stance.
“What’s wrong, Lassie? Did Timmy fall down the well?”
He leapt back to his feet and spun before pinning her with an inquisitive gaze. He clearly wanted to be chased, and she should stop torturing him pretending she didn’t understand.
“Ok, Mister Wolf. Go hide and I’ll start the count.”
Sixty seconds was an excruciatingly long time to wait. He’d bounded off happily, all wags, with a taunting bark or two thrown in for effect. But then he was gone.
Fangs extended with the thrill of the chase, Cortana’s inner huntress waited in fervent anticipation. Shifting back and forth on her feet, she opened her senses, using her keen hearing to track the wolf through the brush.
Three. Two. One.
Zero.
She shot off like a rocket, following his trail and the distant sound of four paws sprinting over dry earth. Closer and closer she drew, her heart kicking in her chest with a kind of thrill she always denied herself. In her eagerness, she’d forgotten why.
Icy blue eyes, dilated with hunger and lust for the chase, targeted her prey as he raced ahead of her. Riaz was a blur, a ruthless hunter built for agility, but he was no match for a vampire.
He heard her coming, pivoting on four legs before shifting seamlessly to two, and caught her against his chest as she collided with him.
They ended up tangled together on the ground, their lips connecting with a savagery Cortana had never experienced in her entire immortal life. Each kiss was a bruising connection, deliberate and wanting, a necessity to quell the powerful urges within. Her mind was driven by the chase, her higher reasoning gone as her baser nature took over.
Together they tumbled, their momentum catapulting them over the dry earth, their lips never separating. His arms caged her body, taking every hit of the rocks and flora that scratched over their forms. The scent of his alluring blood punched through the air when they came to a stop.
As though a switch had been flipped, the vampire became the apex predator. Her eyes caught his, pleading, and he understood. Nodding, he lifted his chin. Razor-sharp fangs extended to their full length, and in the next instant, they were buried in Riaz’s neck.
Blood was life to a vampire. No matter if the game was pleasure, power or simple survival, blood won.
There were the unsatisfying cold bags of donor blood and the live veins that she’d taken before it’d been outlawed … and then there was liquid ambrosia. Riaz’s blood stood alone, by far the most heady Cortana had ever sampled. Feeding in greedy, wild swallows, his blood gushed down her throat.
While many of the live veins she’d taken were lost in a sea of faceless feeds, some were stamped on the fabric of her mind. A memory took over, of fingers combing through her deep brunette hair, lightly at first, then tightened with building urgency. The fingers had tugged, getting more desperate as seconds ticked on, finally yanking backward on the tendrils of her hair, a formless groan the only sound that broke the ardor of her feed. That was the last sound Aeneas had ever made.
Lost to the past, Cortana’s mind hit a wall the second Riaz’s fingers reached her scalp. Her fangs were still lustfully attached to his carotid when her muscles locked.
She leapt from where she’d pinned him to the earth, withdrawing from his flesh without trusting herself to seal the wounds. Aghast, her hand slapped over her mouth, despair pooling in her gut.
Blinking up at her from where he lay beneath her, Riaz frowned. “Are you okay?”
