But Marcus actually took a step back.
"You can't," he said, but there was uncertainty in his voice. "You don't know how."
"Want to test that theory?" Silver light pulsed brighter around her hands.
For a long moment, no one moved, but the air crackled with power and possibility and the very real threat of violence. I could feel our connection thrumming between us, feeding her strength even as it drained mine. She was using that connection to stabilize her power, whether she realized it or not.
We were a part of each other. Completely. Undeniably.
And I'd been a complete fucking idiot to think I could fight it.
Marcus glanced back and forth between us, his expression calculating. Then he smiled, cold and cruel and promising future pain. "Actually, I was just leaving." His gaze fixed on Talin. "Enjoy your mate while you can, little witch."
My fangs ached to rip out his throat when he called her that.
"When you come into my world for Alex, I'll be waiting. And all the threads and bonds in the world won't protect you from what I have planned."
He dissolved into shadows and was gone.
The moment he disappeared, Talin's knees buckled. With a sound of panic, I tore myself from the djinn's weakening hold and was at her side before she could hit the ground, catching her against my chest despite the screaming pain in my healing ribs. Her weight settled against me perfectly as I lowered us both to the floor.
"I've got you," I murmured against her hair. "I've got you."
Her eyes rolled back in her head, and I could feel her life force dimming. Panic drained the last remaining strength from my body. "Talin!" I shook her gently. "Talin!!" What the fuck did she do?
She needs yer blood," Killian said from behind me, his voice cutting through the haze like a blade. "She needs yer strength, Elias."
I shook my head, the movement jerky, desperate. No. Gods, no. I couldn't do that to her. She had no idea what my blood would mean. What it would bind us into, forever. The thought twisted in my gut, a mix of terror and longing that I couldn't shove down, not this time. My control, that iron grip I'd held onto for over a century, was cracking right there on the floor of this godforsaken club, with her limp in my arms.
"Yer blood!" he shouted, the Irish lilt in his voice sharpening with urgency, like he could sense the war raging inside me.
Her face was pale. Too pale, the kind of ashen that screamed death was closing in. I could see the life leaching out of her, her green eyes fluttering shut, those threads she'd wielded so fiercely now vanished, leaving her empty. My chest tightened, a vise squeezing my undead heart until it hurt more than any wound I'd ever taken. Talin—my little witch, my beautiful chaos—was slipping away, and I was helpless. How the fuck had it come to this?
"Elias, I'll rip yer damn wrist open myself if I need to," Killian growled, stepping closer, his presence a looming shadow. "I'll not have ye following her to the grave. Do ye hear me? Not today."
His words echoed through the tunnel of my mind, distant and muffled against the buzzing roar in my ears. I tried to focus, to pull myself together, rubbing my thumb against her cheek as if that could bring some color back. But the panic was rising, hot and uncontrollable, flooding my veins like venom. Her lips parted on a weak exhale, her body going slack against mine, that fierce spark I'd come to crave dimming to nothing, and something inside me shattered. A sob caught in my throat, raw and unfamiliar, as tears—actual fucking tears—burned my eyes. I couldn't lose her. Not her.
Putting my wrist to my mouth, I tore through my skin until there was an open, gaping wound, the sharp sting of my fangs ripping into my own flesh sending a dark thrill through me that I had no business feeling right now. But fuck, the pain was exquisite, a twisted pleasure that made my cock twitch even as I pressed the bloody gash to her mouth. "Come on, beautiful. Drink for me."
The moment my blood touched her lips, she stirred. A soft noise escaped her throat, raw and needy, not quite conscious but far from unconscious, like her body recognized me on some instinctual level before her mind could catch up. Her tongue darted out, tasting me tentatively at first, then again with more hunger, and then her sweet lips closed weakly over the wound, sealing around it like she was claiming me right back.
The first pull of suction sent fire straight through my veins, scorching a path from my wrist to my core, pooling hot and heavy in my groin.
My eyes slammed shut and my lips parted, a low groan rumbling in my chest that I barely managed to swallow down. My free hand fisted in her hair, fingers tangling in the soft dark strands as I held her mouth to my wrist, not letting her pull away even if she wanted to. Every nerve ending in my body lit up, electric and alive, making my fangs ache with the need to sink into her, to mark her as mine while she took from me.
This was nothing like the clinical feeding I'd imagined. No, this was intimate. Visceral. Stripping me bare, exposing every dark corner of my soul. It was erotic as hell, her sucking on my vein like she was pulling my very essence into her, and gods, it made my body respond with an intensity that bordered on violence. My hips shifting involuntarily, seeking friction I couldn't have. Not here, not like this, but fuck if I didn't want to pin her down and bury myself inside her while she drank me dry.
She sucked on my wrist again, deeper this time, her swallows growing stronger, more insistent, and I felt the pull all the way down to my bones. Felt her drawing not just my blood but me. My strength, my power, every drop of the twisted desire I'd been fighting since the moment I laid eyes on her. The bond between us flared to life between us like a physical thing, thrumming and pulsing and demanding more, wrapping around us in invisible threads that bound me to her tighter than any chain ever could. It was agony and ecstasy twisted together, her lips working against my skin in a rhythm that echoed the pounding of my heart, each suck making my cock harden painfully against the confines of my pants.
I bit back a curse, my body trembling with the effort to hold still, to not grind against her like some feral beast. The pain from the wound mingled with the pleasure of her feeding, feeding my masochistic side in ways that had me teetering on the edge, every sensation amplified by the bond screaming MINE, MINE, MINE.
"That's it," I heard myself murmur, my voice gone all rough and dark, laced with a hunger of my own I couldn't hide. "Take what you need. Take it all from me, little witch."
Her eyes fluttered but didn't open. Her hand came up to grip my forearm, holding my wrist to her mouth as she bit down to reopen the wound and drink with more purpose now. More awareness. Color was already returning to her cheeks, the deathly pallor fading with each swallow.
Beautiful. She was so fucking beautiful like this. Her lips stained with my blood, her body pliant in my arms, taking from me with an urgency that made every possessive instinct I had roar to life.
MINE.
