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Will I survive it?
Vampires can go into a frenzy when they fuck. It doesn’t happen often as long as everyone’s getting regular feedings, but Malachi has been alone in this house for at least as long as I’ve been alive. I don’t know why he doesn’t hunt, but the last sacrifice my father sent was before I was born. No matter how good his control right now, it might not hold.
He might kill me.
“Let me go,” I say quietly.
He slowly releases me and leans back to prop his hands on the floor. He’s studying me like I’m a puppy who’s done something unexpected. “You enjoyed what just happened.”
Yes, I did. A lot. I also want it to happen again as soon as possible. I have too much self-preservation to admit as much, though. “Your bite is orgasmic. Of course my body liked it.”
“Ah.”
I need to get up, especially when I can feel his cock pulsing against me, but my legs aren’t cooperating. Or that’s what I tell myself as I glare at him. “And stop ambushing me. I get you need blood, and that’s what I’m here for, but unless you want this sacrifice to be short-lived—literally—you need to knock that shit off.”
His brows inch up, and he’s back to looking like he’s half a second away from laughing at me. “I’ll take that into consideration.”
“I’ll need food, too.” I brace my hands on his shoulder to push to my feet, but somehow my wires get crossed and I rock my hips against him. Just a little. I bite my bottom lip. “What are you doing to me?”
“Nothing.” He very slowly, very gently, replaces his hands on my hips. “Nothing at all.”
“I don’t believe you.” My desire is spiking again, my body hot and pliable. I have to get out of here, and I have to do it now. Otherwise I’m in danger of doing something unforgivable, like reaching between us to free his cock and taking him deep inside me. I want it. I want it more than I want my next breath.
I shove to my feet.
Or at least, I try.
My bad knee buckles halfway up, and Malachi catches me before I make harsh contact with the floor, his hands beneath my knees. I barely have a chance to register what happened when he moves us, lifting me up and setting me on the counter. He pushes my dress to bare my knee and frowns at it. “This is recent.”
No point in denying it. The truth is written right there on my skin in ugly purple scars. “Yes.”
“I was under the impression dhampirs heal quickly.”
“Not as quickly as vampires.”
“That is not an answer.”
He’s like a dog with a bone. I don’t understand where he’s headed with this line of questioning. “Yes, I heal quickly.”
“And yet you have an injury like this.” His face takes on a forbidding look. “Explain.”
Oh, for fuck’s sake. I shove at his shoulders, but I might as well try to shove a mountain. Frustration bubbles up inside me, hot and cloying. “As I’m sure you’ve probably figured out, I didn’t exactly volunteer for this gig. I tried to run. My father made sure I wouldn’t be able to again.”
He goes still in that predatory way that makes every instinct I have scream at me to flee, which might be laughable under other circumstances. Flee. Sure. That’ll work out great.
Malachi’s thumb traces the most prominent bit of the scar, the spot where my father beat my knee again and again, until the bones were little more than pebbles. “There is no quick fix for this type of injury.”
“Thanks for that, Doctor Malachi, but I’m already aware. Even with my accelerated healing, I’ll never walk right again.” It’s something I can’t think too closely about or it might be the thing that breaks me. My entire life has been spent running, even if it was contained within the colony walls. I’ve escaped beatings and worse because of my ability to flee. No longer.
He presses a hand to the center of my chest. “Stay.”
“I am not your dog to command.”
“Stay,” he repeats.
I don’t know why he bothers to tell me what to do. He moves so quickly, I barely have a chance to tense before he’s back between my thighs again, this time holding a knife. I freeze. “A vampire with a knife. How novel.” Which reminds me. I narrow my eyes, trying to ignore the blade glinting between us. “Return my knife.”
“When I’m sure you won’t try to carve out my heart, I will.”
“Looks like someone already tried and botched the job.” I jerk my chin at the mangled scars on his chest. “I’m more than happy to do it properly.”
He chuckles, a dry rasping sound. “What’s your name, little dhampir?”
As much as I want to dig in my heels instead of answering, it won’t serve any purpose. I’m here for the foreseeable future. Might as well be on a first name basis with my captor, willing or no. “Mina.”
