For a second, just a split-second, I let myself feel it. The weight of her. The faint warmth that was still there.
“Don’t die on me,” I murmured, low enough that it barely carried. “I won’t allow it.”
My lips brushed the side of her neck, feeling for what little pulse remained beneath her skin.
I’d never turned anyone before, but I understood how it worked. I knew what was coming. The way the pain would take hold as her body began to change and what she would crave to sedate that pain.
I could feel the shift in myself at just the thought of her instinctual need. Heat coiling low, my body reacted before I could shut it down. The thought of her needing me, depending on me, sent a dangerous thrill through my veins.
Hell, it made me feel like an ass for even thinking it… And still, I knew I was going to enjoy it. Every fucking second of it.
My fangs slid free, and I dragged my tongue along their sharp edges before my gaze lifted to meet those familiar purple eyes. Guilt hit me hard, and I swallowed against it.
“You sure you want to be here for this?” The words were edged with something real, a courteous warning. “You know how this ends. What's bound to happen.”
He didn’t flinch or look away. Just stared at her in utter devotion.
“I’m not going anywhere, no matter what happens.”
Of course he wasn’t. Something bitter curled in my chest, sharp, irrational, but I shoved it down.
Fine, you fuckinggirl stealing asshole! I was going to enjoy this, and he could watch all he wanted.
My focus dropped back to her, my hold tightening just slightly as instinct kicked in along with something darker beneath the surface.
This wasn’t just about saving her anymore. It was about claiming something, even if only for a moment.
My fangs slid free, the familiar sensation grounding me as everything else fell away. Resting my lips against her neck, I let myself feel the faint thrum of her pulse against my lips before I widened my jaw and bit down.
The rush of ecstasy flooded my veins as her taste burst across my tongue. It was rich and sweet, like a sip of caramel, followed by the crisp bite of fresh apple. That intoxicating blend of sugar andfreshness pulled me closer, and my grip tightened as something darker and more possessive stirred within me, driving the way I consumed her.
Her body cooled in my arms. I felt it before I fully registered it—the warmth slipping away, her pulse thinning beneath my lips. Somewhere in the back of my mind, a voice screamed at me to stop, to pull back before I took too much, but I didn’t listen. I couldn’t. Not yet.
I held on and kept drinking, forcing myself to take what I wanted even as her body weakened against me. Each pull dragged more of her into me. Heat flooded my veins, and I was drowning in her scent, her taste, everything that made her… her. It wrapped around me, inside me, and settled deep. For a dangerous second, it felt right.
My body told me I’d taken enough. Every vampiric instinct I had said stop, but my fangs stayed buried. Instead, a darker voice pressed in, hard and insistent.Just a little more. Don’t let go. Take it all. Then she’ll be yours. No one else’s. Ever again.
My grip tightened around her without meaning to. I was losing the battle between my wants and what was right.
A faint trace of roses filtered through the monstrous mess. Soft. Familiar. It cut through everything.
Via.
The name grounded me hard enough to snap out of the haze. With a sharp breath, I tore myself away, turning my head as I dragged my wrist across my teeth, splitting the skin open. Blood welled instantly, and I brought it to her lips, forcing myself into focus.
“Come on,” I muttered roughly as I held her up. “Take it.”
At first, nothing. I had to tilt her head back and keep her mouth open, guiding the blood in as it spilled over her lips. My eyes dragged over her as I did, taking in every detail like I was afraid it would be the last time.
The feel of her dark, silken hair slipping through my fingers, the way her body aligned so perfectly with mine, and how, even in death, her lips still seemed soft, inviting a kiss.
Behind me, I could feel Rack watching, sharp, unrelenting, but I shut it out. This wasn’t about him, and I’d given him his warning already.
Her fingertips twitched, then moved, faintly brushing against my arm before curling weakly. Then her chest stuttered, a rough inhale dragging through her nose like her body was remembering how to breathe.
“Yeah… that’s it,” I breathed, shifting closer.
Her hands found my wrist next, clumsy at first, then tightening. Her lips sealed around the wound, the pull strong and desperate, almost frantic, but alive.
