Again.
With a groan, he eases onto his haunches like a shifting mountain.
The popping crunch of breaking bones curdles my blood, and I scramble to my feet, heart in my throat as midnight fur begins to recede. That thick, black mane curls into a scruffy head of hair, monstrous torso compounding, limbs refining until olive skin stretches across a broad, beautiful back.
Arms.
Legs.
Untilheis crouched before me, on his knees, head bowed between his bare, powerful shoulders while he heaves sawing breaths. The silver scrawls on his skin pulse in rhythm with the seed inside my chest—so slow and strong compared to my thundering thoughts and the rapid fire of my hammering heart.
Vines of relief sprout through my insides, twisting around that seed.
Nuzzling it.
Bursting buttery blooms.
I reach forward, brushing my hand across his cheek.
He shudders.
Slowly, he lifts his head, and there’s such raw vulnerability in his silver-stung stare that fresh tears slip down my cheeks.
He watches them fall, swallowing. With a deep inhale, he lifts both arms—an invitation that cups my heart and settles it in the safe spot behind his much stronger ribs.
I step forward, wrapping my arms around his neck, whimpering when he crushes me against his body, his hand spreading across my shoulder blades. He nuzzles into me as his chest inflates with an uneven breath, and more of those internal blooms burst, turning my insides into a sea of tiny suns.
Home.
I pull a shaken breath, intoxicating myself with his leathery scent. My tongue begins to tingle, and I become primitively aware of thethumpof his heart, a familiar ache spreading up the arch of my palate, down into my canines …
A taste flashes through my memory: thick, robust, silky warmth spilling down my throat, quenching my pain.
Him.
I swallow, wanting.
Needing.
“You fed me your blood,” I whisper—so loud against his silence.
I almost choke on the sharp scent ofguiltthat floods the room.
“Yes.”
His voice is black velvet, swathing me in its richness.
I dig my face farther into his hair, one hand at the back of his head, the other stretched across his shoulders—fingers swirling over his skin like silent whispers.
“Why?”
“Because I refuse to live in a world where you don’t exist.”
My heart cracks, the words passed to me so gently despite the rough timbre abrading my pebbling flesh. Glazing my eyes with another sheen of tears.
“It saved me.”
Not a question. I can feel his strength thrumming through my veins like liquid stone.
